Aristophanes

(448 BC - 380 BC / Athens)

The Harvest - Poem by Aristophanes

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.


Comments about The Harvest by Aristophanes

  • Britte Ninad (4/5/2019 12:45:00 AM)

    great-
    In the rich, nectareous treasure,
    While our grateful voices chime, -
    Happy season! blessed time.....
    (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 21, 2010



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