Georgics

Virgil

Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.

  1. First find your bees a settled sure abode,
  2. Where neither winds can enter (winds blow back
  3. The foragers with food returning home)
  4. Nor sheep and butting kids tread down the flowers,
  5. Nor heifer wandering wide upon the plain
  6. Dash off the dew, and bruise the springing blades.
  7. Let the gay lizard too keep far aloof
  8. His scale-clad body from their honied stalls,
  9. And the bee-eater, and what birds beside,
  10. And Procne smirched with blood upon the breast
  11. From her own murderous hands. For these roam wide
  12. Wasting all substance, or the bees themselves
  13. Strike flying, and in their beaks bear home, to glut
  14. Those savage nestlings with the dainty prey.
  15. But let clear springs and moss-green pools be near,
  16. And through the grass a streamlet hurrying run,
  17. Some palm-tree o'er the porch extend its shade,
  18. Or huge-grown oleaster, that in Spring,
  19. Their own sweet Spring-tide, when the new-made chiefs
  20. Lead forth the young swarms, and, escaped their comb,
  21. The colony comes forth to sport and play,
  22. The neighbouring bank may lure them from the heat,
  23. Or bough befriend with hospitable shade.
  24. O'er the mid-waters, whether swift or still,
  25. Cast willow-branches and big stones enow,
  26. Bridge after bridge, where they may footing find
  27. And spread their wide wings to the summer sun,
  28. If haply Eurus, swooping as they pause,
  29. Have dashed with spray or plunged them in the deep.
  30. And let green cassias and far-scented thymes,
  31. And savory with its heavy-laden breath
  32. Bloom round about, and violet-beds hard by
  33. Sip sweetness from the fertilizing springs.
  34. For the hive's self, or stitched of hollow bark,
  35. Or from tough osier woven, let the doors
  36. Be strait of entrance; for stiff winter's cold
  37. Congeals the honey, and heat resolves and thaws,
  38. To bees alike disastrous; not for naught
  39. So haste they to cement the tiny pores
  40. That pierce their walls, and fill the crevices
  41. With pollen from the flowers, and glean and keep
  42. To this same end the glue, that binds more fast
  43. Than bird-lime or the pitch from Ida's pines.
  44. Oft too in burrowed holes, if fame be true,
  45. They make their cosy subterranean home,
  46. And deeply lodged in hollow rocks are found,
  47. Or in the cavern of an age-hewn tree.
  48. Thou not the less smear round their crannied cribs
  49. With warm smooth mud-coat, and strew leaves above;
  50. But near their home let neither yew-tree grow,
  51. Nor reddening crabs be roasted, and mistrust
  52. Deep marish-ground and mire with noisome smell,
  53. Or where the hollow rocks sonorous ring,
  54. And the word spoken buffets and rebounds.
  1. What more? When now the golden sun has put
  2. Winter to headlong flight beneath the world,
  3. And oped the doors of heaven with summer ray,
  4. Forthwith they roam the glades and forests o'er,
  5. Rifle the painted flowers, or sip the streams,
  6. Light-hovering on the surface. Hence it is
  7. With some sweet rapture, that we know not of,
  8. Their little ones they foster, hence with skill
  9. Work out new wax or clinging honey mould.
  10. So when the cage-escaped hosts you see
  11. Float heavenward through the hot clear air, until
  12. You marvel at yon dusky cloud that spreads
  13. And lengthens on the wind, then mark them well;
  14. For then 'tis ever the fresh springs they seek
  15. And bowery shelter: hither must you bring
  16. The savoury sweets I bid, and sprinkle them,
  17. Bruised balsam and the wax-flower's lowly weed,
  18. And wake and shake the tinkling cymbals heard
  19. By the great Mother: on the anointed spots
  20. Themselves will settle, and in wonted wise
  21. Seek of themselves the cradle's inmost depth.
  1. But if to battle they have hied them forth—
  2. For oft 'twixt king and king with uproar dire
  3. Fierce feud arises, and at once from far
  4. You may discern what passion sways the mob,
  5. And how their hearts are throbbing for the strife;
  6. Hark! the hoarse brazen note that warriors know
  7. Chides on the loiterers, and the ear may catch
  8. A sound that mocks the war-trump's broken blasts;
  9. Then in hot haste they muster, then flash wings,
  10. Sharpen their pointed beaks and knit their thews,
  11. And round the king, even to his royal tent,
  12. Throng rallying, and with shouts defy the foe.
  13. So, when a dry Spring and clear space is given,
  14. Forth from the gates they burst, they clash on high;
  15. A din arises; they are heaped and rolled
  16. Into one mighty mass, and headlong fall,
  17. Not denselier hail through heaven, nor pelting so
  18. Rains from the shaken oak its acorn-shower.
  19. Conspicuous by their wings the chiefs themselves
  20. Press through the heart of battle, and display
  21. A giant's spirit in each pigmy frame,
  22. Steadfast no inch to yield till these or those
  23. The victor's ponderous arm has turned to flight.
  24. Such fiery passions and such fierce assaults
  25. A little sprinkled dust controls and quells.