Metin
Autumn withfruit, with harvest summer's crown'd
The spring's adorn'd with flowers to charm the eye
And winter fires the absent sun supply.
At certain times you'll see the vintage full,
And for your wine-press may choice clusters cull;
195
At certain times your ponderous sheafs may bind,
Yet for the rake leave work enough behind.
In mellow ground, your plants no wat'ring need;
The thirsty you from neighb'ring springs may feed.
Then, grafting, make old stocks sprout fresh and green,
200
And various fruits in one proud branch be seen.
When once these pleasures have your mind possess'd,
Love soon departs like a neglected guest.
Hunt, if the dull distemper you'd remove;
Diana will too hard for Venus prove.
205
Thro' all her doubling shifts the hare pursue,
Or spread your toil upon the mountain's brew:
E'en when the stag's at bay provoke his rage,
Or with your spear the foaming boar engage.
Thus tir'd, your rest at night will prove so deep,
210
