GetPassage urn:cts:latinLit:phi0893.phi001.perseus-eng2:2.15.1-2.15.8 urn:cts:latinLit:phi0893.phi001.perseus-eng2:2.15.1-2.15.8

Few roods of ground the piles we raiseWill leave to plough; ponds wider spreadThan Lucrine lake will meet the gazeOn every side; the plane unwedWill top the elm; the violet-bed,The myrtle, each delicious sweet,On olive-grounds their scent will shed,Where once were fruit-trees yielding meat;