Hard by that wave-beat sire a vineyard bends Beneath its graceful load of burnished grapes; A boy sits on the rude fence watching them.

"In all vineyards care is taken that the prop should shelter the vine against the north wind.

It was in Champagne-Pouilleusemangy Champagne it is called, because it has none of the richness of the vineyard country, but is a great stretch of barren land through which the chalk breaks out in bald patches.

And then she shewed to the duke and Mariana two keys that Angelo had given her; and she said, "This bigger key opens the vineyard gate; this other a little door which leads from the vineyard to the garden.

When, as I rambled thro' thy vineyard-ground On the hill-side, thou sent'st thy little son, Charged with a bunch almost as big as he, To press it on the stranger.

Thus equipped, she wanders at will over the broader meadows, around the feet of vineyard-hills, visits villages and churches, or stops to gossip with the lusty young millers.

"I'm in a bad way, Garner," resumed the vineyard-master; "I fear we're all in a bad way, that are here.

Under the dominion of the Franks, who held wine in great favour, vineyard property was one of those which the barbaric laws protected with the greatest care.

Either hand Crete, with her hoary mountains, olive-clad In twinkling silver, 'twixt the vineyard rows, Divides the glimmering seas.

So we stand in the sun, but afraid of a probable shower; So we stand and stare, and see, to the left of St. Peter's, Smoke, from the cannon, white,but that is at intervals only, Black, from a burning house, we suppose, by the Cavalleggieri; And we believe we discern some lines of men descending Down through the vineyard-slopes, and catch a bayonet gleaming.

"WHAT PROFIT HATH A MAN OF ALL HIS LABOR THAT HE TAKETH UNDER THE SUN?" Must we forever train the vineyard sproutings, And plough in hope of harvests yet to come, Nor ever join the gladsome vintage shoutings, And sing the happy song of harvest-home?

Without a single hedge or fence, stood the long sweep of hills, covered with waving fields of grain, except where they were steep and rocky, and the vineyard terraces rose one above another.

Basking there in the genial heat, South of my sheltering vineyard wall, Strolling, I dream in my lov'd retreat, The smile of the sun-god over all.

But now thy flocks creep feebly through the fields, No purple grapes, thy half-drest vineyards yields: No primrose nor no violets grace thy beds, But thorns and thistles lift their prickly heads.