FRUIT OF OLD.
37
Hence proudly doth the charger paw the plain,
Hence snowy flocks, and bulls of lordly strain,
Besprent, Clitumnus, with thy stream divine, 175
Lead Roman triumphs to the altar shrine.
Here constant spring and summer charm the year,
Twice yean the flocks and twice the fruit-trees bear.
No tigers prowl, no savage lion seed;
No aconites the luckless hand mislead: 180
No serpent monster loops along the ground,
Or coils his scaly stretch in endless spirals round.
Then add, to all these products of the soil,
Our noble cities and constructive toil,
On beetling crags our castles' proud array, 185
And rivers gliding under bastions grey.
Why tell of ocean spread on either side,
The wash of upper and of nether tide
The lakes so vast, great Larius, and thee,
Benacus, rough and roaring like the sea? 190
Why tell of ports and barriers of Lucrine?
Where sullen surges lash the weather line,
While Julian waters murmur safe inside,
And Tuscan ripples through Avernus glide.
Our land as well the silver duct doth hold, 195
Hence snowy flocks, and bulls of lordly strain,
Besprent, Clitumnus, with thy stream divine, 175
Lead Roman triumphs to the altar shrine.
Here constant spring and summer charm the year,
Twice yean the flocks and twice the fruit-trees bear.
No tigers prowl, no savage lion seed;
No aconites the luckless hand mislead: 180
No serpent monster loops along the ground,
Or coils his scaly stretch in endless spirals round.
Then add, to all these products of the soil,
Our noble cities and constructive toil,
On beetling crags our castles' proud array, 185
And rivers gliding under bastions grey.
Why tell of ocean spread on either side,
The wash of upper and of nether tide
The lakes so vast, great Larius, and thee,
Benacus, rough and roaring like the sea? 190
Why tell of ports and barriers of Lucrine?
Where sullen surges lash the weather line,
While Julian waters murmur safe inside,
And Tuscan ripples through Avernus glide.
Our land as well the silver duct doth hold, 195
