“For there was a sheep’s fleece, and there was a vine,
And a libation, and grapes well stored;
And there was mixed with it fruit of all kinds,
And the fat of the olive, and the most curious
Wax-formed work of the yellow bee.”
Just so our Stromata, according to the husbandman of the comic poet Timocles, produce “figs, olives, dried figs, honey, as from an all-fruitful field;” on account of which exuberance he adds:
“Thou speakest of a harvest-wreath not of husbandry.”
For the Athenians were wont to cry:
“The harvest-wreath bears figs and fat loaves,
And honey in a cup, and olive oil to anoint you.”