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His life unites them all; but when he dies,
Some from such instances as these have taught
the deep of heaven;
Whene'er their balmy sweets you mean to seize,
Twice in the year their flowery toils begin, And twice they fetch their dewy harvest in; Once when the lovely Pleiades arise, And add fresh lustre to the summer skies, And once when, hastening from the watery sign, They quit their station, and forbear to shine.
The bees are prone to rage, and often found To perish for revenge, and die upon the wound:
Their venom'd sting produces aching pains,
When first a cold hard winter's storms arrive,
When sickness reigns (for they as well as we
up with hunger, and benumb’d with cold;
Mix juice of galls and wine, that grow in time
Besides, there grows a flower in marshy ground,
grow Into a bush, and shade the turf below; The plant in holy garlands often twines The altar's posts, and beautifies the shrines; Its taste is sharp; in vales new-shorn it grows, Where Mella's stream in watery mazes flows; Take plenty of its roots, and boil them well In wine, and heap them up before the cell.
But if the whole stock fail, and none survive, To raise new people and recruit the hive, I'll here the great experiment declare That spread the’Arcadian shepherd's name so far, How bees from blood of slaughter'd bulls have fled, And swarms amidst the red corruption bred.
For where the’Egyptians yearly see their bounds Refresh'd with floods, and sail about their grounds, Where Persia borders, and the rolling Nile Drives swiftly down the swarthy Indians' soil, Till into seven it multiplies its stream, And fattens Egypt with a fruitful slime, In this last practice all their hope remains, And long experience justifies their pains.
First, then, a close contracted space of ground, With straiten'd walls and low-built roof they found;
A narrow shelving light is next assign'd
and smooths the troubled seas, Before the chattering swallow builds her nest, Or fields in spring's embroidery are dress'd. Meanwhile the tainted juice ferments within, And quickens as it works : and now are seen A wondrous swarm, that o'er the carcass crawls Of shapeless, rude, unfinish'd animals. No legs at first the insects weight sustain, At length it moves its new-made limbs with pain ; Now strikes the air with quivering wings, and tries To lift its body up, and learns to rise ; Now bending thighs and gilded wings it wears Full grown,
and all the bee at length appears : From every
side the fruitful carcass pours Its swarming brood as thick as summer showers, Or flights of arrows from the Parthian bows, When twanging strings first shoot them on the foes.
Thus have I sung the nature of the bee, While Cæsar, towering to divinity,
The frighted Indians with his thunder awed,
MILTON'S STYLE IMITATED,
TRANSLATION OF A STORY OUT OF THE THIRD ÆNEID.
Lost in the gloomy horrors of the night
the coast where Ætna lies, Horrid and waste, its entrails fraught with fire, That now casts out dark fumes and pitchy clouds, Vast showers of ashes hovering in the smoke; Now belches molten stones and ruddy flame Incensed, or tears up mountains by the roots, Or slings a broken rock aloft in air : The bottom works with smother'd fire, involved In pestilential vapours, stench, and smoke.
"Tis said that thunder-struck Enceladus, Grovelling beneath the incumbent mountain's
weight, Lies stretch'd supine, eternal prey of flames, And when he heaves against the burning load, Reluctant, to invert his broiling limbs, A sudden earthquake shoots through all the isle, And Etna thunders dreadful under ground, Then pours out smoke in wreathing curls convolved, And shades the sun's bright orb, and blots out day.