The Salad. By Virgil Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDCCEECCCCFFCC CCCCCCGGEECCHHIICCGG CCCCJJKLCCCCMMCCCCNN OOCCGGCCCCFFPPQQCCRR SSCCCCTTUUCCCCCCCCCC CCVVCCCCQQCCCCQQQQQQ FFGGGGQQCCCCCCCCWXGC QQQQCCCCQQCCCCYYThe winter night now well nigh worn away | A |
The wakeful cock proclaimed approaching day | A |
When Simulus poor tenant of a farm | B |
Of narrowest limits heard the shrill alarm | B |
Yawned stretched his limbs and anxious to provide | C |
Against the pangs of hunger unsupplied | C |
By slow degrees his tattered bed forsook | D |
And poking in the dark explored the nook | D |
Where embers slept with ashes heaped around | C |
And with burnt fingers' ends the treasure found | C |
It chanced that from a brand beneath his nose | E |
Sure proof of latent fire some smoke arose | E |
When trimming with a pin the incrusted tow | C |
And stooping it towards the coals below | C |
He toils with cheeks distended to excite | C |
The lingering flame and gains at length a light | C |
With prudent heed he spreads his hand before | F |
The quivering lamp and opes his granary door | F |
Small was his stock but taking for the day | C |
A measured stint of twice eight pounds away | C |
With these his mill he seeks A shelf at hand | C |
Fixt in the wall affords his lamp a stand | C |
Then baring both his arms a sleeveless coat | C |
He girds the rough exuviae of a goat | C |
And with a rubber for that use designed | C |
Cleansing his mill within begins to grind | C |
Each hand has its employ labouring amain | G |
This turns the winch while that supplies the grain | G |
The stone revolving rapidly now glows | E |
And the bruised corn a mealy current flows | E |
While he to make his heavy labour light | C |
Tasks oft his left hand to relieve his right | C |
And chants with rudest accent to beguile | H |
His ceaseless toil as rude a strain the while | H |
And now 'Dame Cybale come forth ' he cries | I |
But Cybale still slumbering nought replies | I |
From Afric she the swain's sole serving maid | C |
Whose face and form alike her birth betrayed | C |
With woolly locks lips tumid sable skin | G |
Wide bosom udders flaccid belly thin | G |
Legs slender broad and most misshapen feet | C |
Chapped into chinks and parched with solar heat | C |
Such summoned oft she came at his command | C |
Fresh fuel heaped the sleeping embers fanned | C |
And made in haste her simmering skillet steam | J |
Replenished newly from the neighbouring stream | J |
The labours of the mill performed a sieve | K |
The mingled flour and bran must next receive | L |
Which shaken oft shoots Ceres through refined | C |
And better dressed her husks all left behind | C |
This done at once his future plain repast | C |
Unleavened on a shaven board he cast | C |
The tepid lymph first largely soaked it all | M |
Then gathered it with both hands to a ball | M |
And spreading it again with both hands wide | C |
With sprinkled salt the stiffened mass supplied | C |
At length the stubborn substance duly wrought | C |
Takes from his palms impressed the shape it ought | C |
Becomes an orb and quartered into shares | N |
The faithful mark of just division bears | N |
Last on his hearth it finds convenient space | O |
For Cybale before had swept the place | O |
And there with tiles and embers overspread | C |
She leaves it reeking in its sultry bed | C |
Nor Similus while Vulcan thus alone | G |
His part performed proves heedless of his own | G |
But sedulous not merely to subdue | C |
His hunger but to please his palate too | C |
Prepares more savoury food His chimney side | C |
Could boast no gammon salted well and dried | C |
And hooked behind him but sufficient store | F |
Of bundled anise and a cheese it bore | F |
A broad round cheese which through its centre strung | P |
With a tough broom twig in the corner hung | P |
The prudent hero therefore with address | Q |
And quick despatch now seeks another mess | Q |
Close to his cottage lay a garden ground | C |
With reeds and osiers sparely girt around | C |
Small was the spot but liberal to produce | R |
Nor wanted aught that serves a peasant's use | R |
And sometimes even the rich would borrow thence | S |
Although its tillage was his sole expense | S |
For oft as from his toils abroad he ceased | C |
Home bound by weather or some stated feast | C |
His debt of culture here he duly paid | C |
And only left the plough to wield the spade | C |
He knew to give each plant the soil it needs | T |
To drill the ground and cover close the seeds | T |
And could with ease compel the wanton rill | U |
To turn and wind obedient to his will | U |
There flourished star wort and the branching beet | C |
The sorrel acid and the mallow sweet | C |
The skirret and the leek's aspiring kind | C |
The noxious poppy quencher of the mind | C |
Salubrious sequel of a sumptuous board | C |
The lettuce and the long huge bellied gourd | C |
But these for none his appetite controlled | C |
With stricter sway the thrifty rustic sold | C |
With broom twigs neatly bound each kind apart | C |
He bore them ever to the public mart | C |
Whence laden still but with a lighter load | C |
Of each well earned he took his homeward road | C |
Expending seldom ere he quitted Rome | V |
His gains in flesh meat for a feast at home | V |
There at no cost on onions rank and red | C |
Or the curled endive's bitter leaf he fed | C |
On scallions sliced or with a sensual gust | C |
On rockets foul provocatives of lust | C |
Nor even shunned with smarting gums to press | Q |
Nasturtium pungent face distorting mess | Q |
Some such regale now also in his thought | C |
With hasty steps his garden ground he sought | C |
There delving with his hands he first displaced | C |
Four plants of garlick large and rooted fast | C |
The tender tops of parsley next he culls | Q |
Then the old rue bush shudders as he pulls | Q |
And Coriander last to these succeeds | Q |
That hands on slightest threads her trembling seeds | Q |
Placed near his sprightly fire he now demands | Q |
The mortar at his sable servant's hands | Q |
When stripping all his garlick first he tore | F |
The exterior coats and cast them on the floor | F |
Then cast away with like contempt the skin | G |
Flimsier concealment of the cloves within | G |
These searched and perfect found he one by one | G |
Rinsed and disposed within the hollow stone | G |
Salt added and a lump of salted cheese | Q |
With his injected herbs he covered these | Q |
And tucking with his left his tunic tight | C |
The garlick bruising first he soon expressed | C |
And mixed the various juices of the rest | C |
He grinds and by degrees his herbs below | C |
Lost in each other their own powers forego | C |
Nor wholly green appear nor wholly white | C |
His nostrils oft the forceful fume resent | C |
He cursed full oft his dinner for its scent | C |
Or with wry faces wiping as he spoke | W |
The trickling tears cried 'Vengeance on the smoke ' | X |
The work proceeds not roughly turns he now | G |
The pestle but in circles smoothe and slow | C |
With cautious hand that grudges what it spills | Q |
Some drops of olive oil he next instils | Q |
Then vinegar with caution scarcely less | Q |
And gathering to a ball the medley mess | Q |
Last with two fingers frugally applied | C |
Sweeps the small remnant from the mortar's side | C |
And thus complete in figure and in kind | C |
Obtains at length the Salad he designed | C |
And now black Cybale before him stands | Q |
The cake drawn newly glowing in her hands | Q |
He glad receives it chasing far away | C |
All fears of famine for the passing day | C |
His legs enclosed in buskins and his head | C |
In its tough casque of leather forth he led | C |
And yoked his steers a dull obedient pair | Y |
Then drove afield and plunged the pointed share | Y |
William Cowper
(1)
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