Of Libya's shepherds why the tale pursue?Why sing their pastures and the scattered hutsThey house in? Oft their cattle day and nightGraze the whole month together, and go forthInto far deserts where no shelter is,So flat the plain and boundless. All his goodsThe Afric swain bears with him, house and home,Arms, Cretan quiver, and Amyclaean dog;As some keen Roman in his country's armsPlies the swift march beneath a cruel load;Soon with tents pitched and at his post he stands,Ere looked for by the foe.