Perform her part in the sweet cares of life,
Of sun-burnt charms, but honest fame,
Such as the Sabine or Apulian dame;
If, when fatigued he homeward turns,
The sacred fire, built up with faggots, burns;
Or if in hurdles she inclose
The joyful flock, whence ample produce flows;
Though unbought dainties she prepare,
And this year’s wines attend the homely fare;
No fish would I from foreign shore