Classic Poem

Fresh from the page of Virgil's Pollio
I look'd abroad upon the wintry land,
And there I saw two dingy wethers stand
Beside a patch of soil'd and thawing snow.
With Maro's vision burning on mine eyes,
Alas! I said, how meagre is the view!
No wondrous ram with his spontaneous dyes,
No bright Amomum with its eastern hue!
But winter soon will pass, nor shall we need
Assyrian flowers to deck our May and June;
No sheep have we of that transcendent stock;
But Agnes, merriest of our household flock,
Will take a change of shawls into the mead,
And shift at will from saffron to maroon.