Home  »  library  »  poem  »  The Harvest

C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

The Harvest

By Aristophanes (c. 448–c. 388 B.C.)

From ‘The Peace’: Translation in the Quarterly Review

OH, ’tis sweet, when fields are ringing

With the merry cricket’s singing,

Oft to mark with curious eye

If the vine-tree’s time be nigh:

Here is now the fruit whose birth

Cost a throe to Mother Earth.

Sweet it is, too, to be telling,

How the luscious figs are swelling;

Then to riot without measure

In the rich, nectareous treasure,

While our grateful voices chime,—

Happy season! blessed time.