Odes 2.15 (Gladstone): Jam Pauca Aratro

These kingly piles the acres take
Once ploughed. The ponds dug round us gain
Bounds wider than the Lucrine lake.
For elms, we plant the unwedded plane.

Myrtles abound, and violet-beds,
And every flower, that yields a scent,
O'er olive-ground its perfume sheds,
That whilome brought its lord a rent.

Dense laurel-shade shall stop the rays
Of summer. Ah! not such the rule
Of Romulus, nor Cato's ways
Too rude, nor all the elder school.

Romans were poor: but yet they made
Rome greatly rich. No measuring then
With ten-foot rod the colonnade
Tow'rd the cool North, for private men.

The common turf, that grew at large,
Those ancient laws bade all respect,
But freely at the public charge
With stone our towns and temples decked.