They sallied; at their head Pallas and Mars
Both golden and in golden vests attired
Advanced, proportion each showing divine,
Large, prominent, and such as Gods beseem’d. 
Not such the people, but of humbler size. 650
Arriving at the spot for ambush chosen,
A river’s side, where cattle of each kind
Drank, down they sat, all arm’d in dazzling brass. 
Apart from all the rest sat also down
Two spies, both looking for the flocks and herds. 655
Soon they appear’d, and at their side were seen
Two shepherd swains, each playing on his pipe
Careless, and of the danger nought apprized,
Swift ran the spies, perceiving their approach,
And intercepting suddenly the herds 660
And flocks of silver fleece, slew also those
Who fed them.  The besiegers, at that time
In council, by the sound alarm’d, their steeds
Mounted, and hasted, instant, to the place;
Then, standing on the river’s brink they fought 665
And push’d each other with the brazen lance. 
There Discord raged, there Tumult, and the force
Of ruthless Destiny; she now a Chief
Seized newly wounded, and now captive held
Another yet unhurt, and now a third 670
Dragg’d breathless through the battle by his feet
And all her garb was dappled thick with blood
Like living men they traversed and they strove,
And dragg’d by turns the bodies of the slain. 
He also graved on it a fallow field 675
Rich, spacious, and well-till’d.  Plowers not few,
There driving to and fro their sturdy teams,
Labor’d the land; and oft as in their course
They came to the field’s bourn, so oft a man
Met them, who in their hands a goblet placed 680
Charged with delicious wine.  They, turning, wrought
Each his own furrow, and impatient seem’d
To reach the border of the tilth, which black
Appear’d behind them as a glebe new-turn’d,
Though golden.  Sight to be admired by all! 685
There too he form’d the likeness of a field
Crowded with corn, in which the reapers toil’d
Each with a sharp-tooth’d sickle in his hand. 
Along the furrow here, the harvest fell
In frequent handfuls, there, they bound the sheaves. 690
Three binders of the sheaves their sultry task
All plied industrious, and behind them boys
Attended, filling with the corn their arms
And offering still their bundles to be bound. 
Amid them, staff in hand, the master stood 695
Silent exulting, while beneath an oak
Apart, his heralds busily prepared
The banquet, dressing a well-thriven ox
New slain, and the attendant maidens mix’d
Large supper for the hinds of whitest flour. 700
There also, laden with its fruit he form’d
A vineyard all of gold; purple he made