Either to poplars tall he joins
The marriageable offspring of his vines;
Or lops the useless boughs away,
Inserting happier as the old decay:
Or in a lonely vale surveys
His lowing herds, safe-wand’ring as they graze;
Or stores in jars his liquid gold
Prest from the hive, or shears his tender fold.
And, if a chaste and prudent wife