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The Georgics, specifically, were a beautiful read. I love the visions invoked by Virgil’s commentary on the art of farming both plants and animals (especially so, since I myself raise goats for milk).
Autumn drops her varied fruits at our feet, while far
Above on sunny rocks the vintage basks and mellows.
And all the time he has dear children who dote on kisses, A house that preserves the tradition of chastity, cows that
hang
Their milky udders, and plump young goats on the happy
green
Romping and butting with their horns.
The farmer himself keeps holidays when, at ease in a meadow, A fire in the midst and friends there to crown the flowing
bowl,
He drinks the health of the Wine-god and arranges for his
herdsmen
A darts-match, setting up the target upon an elm tree, And the labourers bare their sinewy bodies for country
wrestling.
- Georgics, book II, lines 521-531
Autumn drops her varied fruits at our feet, while far
Above on sunny rocks the vintage basks and mellows.
And all the time he has dear children who dote on kisses, A house that preserves the tradition of chastity, cows that
hang
Their milky udders, and plump young goats on the happy
green
Romping and butting with their horns.
The farmer himself keeps holidays when, at ease in a meadow, A fire in the midst and friends there to crown the flowing
bowl,
He drinks the health of the Wine-god and arranges for his
herdsmen
A darts-match, setting up the target upon an elm tree, And the labourers bare their sinewy bodies for country
wrestling.
- Georgics, book II, lines 521-531