Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE GEORGICS: 2, 136. PRAISES OF ITALY, by PUBLIUS VERGILIUS MARO


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE GEORGICS: 2, 136. PRAISES OF ITALY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: But let not the forests of media, harbours of all wealth
Last Line: And roman villages greet me their minstrel of ascra.
Alternate Author Name(s): Virgil; Vergil
Subject(s): Rome, Italy


But let not the forests of Media, harbour of all wealth,
Nor glittering Ganges, nor golden soilure of Hermus,
Muster against Italy's praises; not Bactra, not Indies,
Neither a whole fragrant Araby's rich carpet of incense.
Here ne'er plough'd the bullocks that snorted fiery defiance;
Here the dragon's huge teeth were ne'er sown, nor to a harvest
Rose the thick encumbrance of spear'd and helmeted armies.
Nay, heavy-ear'd corncrops and vines of Massic elixir
Teem in it; here are olives and herds in goodly assemblage.
Hence the gallant war-horse high-prancing takes the parade-ground;
Hence the cattle snow-white and hugest trophy, the king-bull,
Dipt in thy hallowing fountain, Clitumnus, have oft-times
Drawn to the gods' temples our Roman victory homeward.
Here ever is spring-tide; summer here long lasteth against wont;
Twice a year herds bear young, twice trees bear service in orchards;
No ravening tigers are abroad, no lion in ambush
Murderous, or monkshood to the herb-picker harbouring evil;
And never o'er these tracts in coils all scaly the serpent
Hasteneth, or windeth with a train as enormous as elsewhere.
Add the cities unmatcht and works of toilsome achievement,
Towns upon escarpments rear'd high like sheer-dropping eyries,
Stately rivers that glide 'neath walls old story renowneth.
And what of our two seas that lave our country on each side,
And those lordly lagoons—thee, largest Larian, and thee,
Surging up in thy rage, sea-like Benacus, alongshore?
Or what of our havens, of locks added unto the Lucrine,
And of an indignant water's uproarious onslaught
Where with a yeasty recoil Port Julius hoarsely resoundeth,
And the Tyrrhene tide-race invades the Avernian inlet?
Yea, this land shows silvery veins; she richly revealeth
Her copper, and of gold most streamlike is she in issue.
She gives birth to valour: to the Marsian and the Sabellan;
She mothereth Ligur endurance and Volscian aptness
At spearcast: Decii, Marii, and doughty Camilli,
Those pitiless Scipio warriors, and master of empire,
Caesar, on extremities of farthest Asia this day
Driving a cow'd Hindoo from Rome's victorious outworks.
Hail to Saturn's own land! All hail great author of harvests
Great mother of mankind! 'Tis a theme I broach thee of ancient
Glory and art: the hallow'd fountains I venturous unseal,
And Roman villages greet me their minstrel of Ascra.





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