The Iliad of Homer - Get a Free Blog

The master meets them with his
goblet crown'd;
The hearty draught rewards, renews
their toil,
Then back the turning ploughshares
cleave the soil:
Behind, the rising earth in ridges
roll'd;
And sable look'd, though form'd of
molten gold.
Another field rose high with waving
grain;
With bended sickles stand the reaper
train:
Here stretched in ranks the levell'd
swarths are found,
Sheaves heap'd on sheaves here
thicken up the ground.
With sweeping stroke the mowers
strow the lands;
The gatherers follow, and collect in
bands;