placed a field which lay Deep in ripe wheat. With sickles in their hands The laborers reaped it. Here the handfuls fell Upon the ground; there binders tied them fast With bands, and made them sheaves. Three binders went Close to the reapers, and behind them boys, Bringing the gathered handfuls in their arms. Ministered to the binders. Staff in hand, The master stood among them by the side Of the ranged sheaves and silently rejoiced. Meanwhile the servants underneath an oak Prepared a feast apart; they sacrificed A fatling ox and dressed it, while the maids Were kneading for the reapers the white meal.
A vineyard also on the shield he graved, Beautiful, all of gold, and heavily Laden with grapes. Black were the clusters all; The vines were stayed on rows of silver stakes. He drew a blue trench round it, and a hedge Of tin. One only path there was by which The vintagers could go to gather grapes. Young maids and striplings of a tender age Bore the sweet fruit in baskets. Midst them all, A youth from his shrill harp drew pleasant sounds, And sang with soft voice to the murmuring strings. They danced around him, beating with quick feet The ground, and sang and shouted joyously.