1What makes the cornfields glad, under what star it is fitting, Maecenas, to turn the earth and to wed vines to elms, what care there is for cattle, what tending for keeping a flock, how much skill for the thrifty bees: from here I shall begin to sing. 5You, O brightest lights of the world, who lead the year as it glides through the sky; Liber and nurturing Ceres, if by your gift the earth exchanged the Chaonian acorn for the rich ear of corn, and mixed draughts of Achelous with the grapes it had found; 10and you, Fauns, present deities of country folk, bring your feet together, Fauns and Dryad maidens: it is your gifts I sing.
12And you, O Neptune, for whom the earth, struck by your great trident, first poured forth the neighing horse; 14and you, dweller of the groves, for whom three hundred snow-white bullocks crop the rich thickets of Ceos; 16you yourself, Pan, guardian of sheep, leaving your native grove and the glades of Lycaeus, if your Maenalus is dear to you, be present, O god of Tegea, and favour me; and Minerva, discoverer of the olive, and the boy who showed the curved plough, and Silvanus, carrying a tender cypress torn up by the root; and all you gods and goddesses whose zeal it is to guard the fields, both you who nourish new crops sprung from no seed, and you who send down abundant rain from the sky on the sown land; 24and you above all, Caesar, of whom it is uncertain what councils of the gods are soon to have you: whether you will wish to watch over cities and to care for the lands, and the mighty world will receive you as giver of harvests and lord of the seasons, binding your temples with your mother's myrtle; or whether you come as god of the boundless sea, and sailors worship your power alone, furthest Thule serves you, and Tethys buys you with all her waves to be her son-in-law; or whether you add yourself as a new star to the slow months, where a space opens between Erigone and the pursuing Claws (the blazing Scorpion himself already draws in his arms for you and has left more than his fair share of the sky); whatever you will be (for Tartarus does not hope for you as king, and may so dread a lust for ruling never come upon you, though Greece admires the Elysian fields and Proserpina, sought back, does not care to follow her mother), grant me an easy course and nod assent to my bold undertaking, and pitying with me the country folk who do not know the way, step forward, and grow used even now to being called upon in prayers.