Till by a Crime awaken'd; not e'en Song
Wore Semblatude of War;—Eternal Spring
From the unfurrow'd Field the heavy Ear
Drew smiling, and the undistinguish'd year
Brought willing plenty forth, nor scorn'd she then
A Common Call, enamour'd of her plough.
The Clinging Vine prest down the branching Elm
260
E'en to the Earth, and in her verdant Lap
The tributary Grape, yet growing, laid.