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Up the mountains, o'er the vales,
Thro' the woods, and down the dales;
For this, if full the clufter grow,
Your bowls fhall doubly overflow..

So chear'd, with more officious haste
They bring the dung of ev'ry beast;
The loads they wheel, the roots they bare,
They lay the rich manure with care;
While oft he calls to labour hard,
And names as oft the red reward.

The plants refresh'd, new leaves appear,
The thick'ning clusters load the year ;
The season swiftly purple grew,
The grapes hung dangling deep with blue..

A vineyard ripe, a day ferene

Now calls them all to work again.
The Fauns thro' every furrow fhoot
To load their flaskets with the fruit ;
And now the vintage early trod,
The wines invite the jovial God.

Strow

Strow the roses, raise the song, See the mafter comes along; Lufty Revel join'd with Laughter, Whim and Frolic follow after :

The Fauns afide the vats remain

To fhow the work, and reap the gain.
All around, and all around

They fit to riot on the ground;

A veffel ftands amidst the ring,

And here they laugh, and there they fing;
Or rife a jolly jolly band,

And dance about it hand in hand;

Dance about, and fhout amain,

Then fit to laugh, and fing again..
Thus they drink, and thus they play,
The fun, and all their wits away.

But as an ancient Author fung,
The vine, manur'd with ev'ry dung,
From ev'ry creature ftrangely drew
A twang of brutal nature too ;

'Twas

'Twas hence in drinking on the lawns-
New turns of humour feiz'd the Fauns.

Here one was crying out, by Jove!
Another, fight me in the grove;
This wounds a friend, and that the trees;
The lion's temper reign'd in these.

Another grins, and leaps about,
And keeps a merry world of rout,
And talks impertinently free,
And twenty talk the fame as he :
Chatt'ring, idle, airy, kind:

These take the monkey's turn of mind.

Here one, that faw the Nymphs which stood,

To peep upon them from the wood,
Steals off to try if any maid

Be lagging late beneath the fhade:
While loofe difcourfe another raises
In naked nature's plainest phrases,
And every glass he drinks enjoys,
With change of nonsense, luft and noise;

Mad

Mad and careless, hot and vain :
Such as these the goat retain.

Another drinks and cafts it up,

And drinks, and wants another cup;

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Solemn, filent, and fedate,

Ever long, and ever late,

Full of meats, and full of wine:

This takes his temper from the swine.

Here fome who hardly feem to breathe,

Drink, and hang the jaw beneath,
Gaping, tender, apt to weep:
Their nature's alter'd by the fheep.

'Twas thus one autumn all the crew (If what the Poets fay be true) While Bacchus made the merry feaft, Inclin❜d to one, or other beast: And fince, 'tis faid, for many a mile He spread the vines of Lesbos ifle.

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