Georgic

1    I| earth assails, and makes the field his thrall.~Pray for wet
2    I|     Exceedingly rejoice, the field hath joy;~No tilth makes
3    I|   fain;~And when the parched field quivers, and all the blades~
4    I| Prune with thy hook the dark field’s matted shade,~Pray down
5   II|      autumn laden blooms the field,~And foams the vintage high
6   II|   the bare stumps within his field,~Truncheons cleft four-wise,
7   II|   corn is goodliest; from no field~More wains thou’lt see wend
8   IV|   now, both leaders from the field recalled,~Who hath the worser
9   IV| Which all my skilful care by field and fold,~No art neglected,