Georgic

1    I|  months,~And let the clods lie bare till baked to dust~By the
2   II|     the trench;~One buries the bare stumps within his field,~
3   II|     Bacchus, lastly, loves~The bare hillside, and yews the north
4   II|       and their upturned clods~Bare to the north wind, ere thou
5   II|        thus alone survives~The bare wild olive with its bitter
6   II| herself, with hooked fang laid bare,~Yields moisture for the
7  III|       nightlong makes the hard bare stones his bed,~And feeds
8   IV|      many a plaint to her that bare him cried:~“Mother, Cyrene,
9   IV|     war by deep~Euphrates, and bare rule o’er willing folk~Though