The Building of Carthage

The Prince, with Wonder, sees the stately Tow'rs,
Which late were Huts, and Shepherds homely Bow'rs;
The Gates and Streets; and hears, from ev'ry part,
The Noise, and buisy Concourse of the Mart.
The toiling Tyrians on each other call,
To ply their Labour. Some extend the Wall,
Some build the Citadel; the brawny Throng,
Or dig, or push unweildy Stones along.
Some for their Dwelling chuse a Spot of Ground,
Which, first design'd, with Ditches they surround.
Some Laws ordain, and some attend the Choice
Of holy Senates, and elect by Voice.
Here some design a Mole, while others there
Lay deep Foundations for a Theatre:
From Marble Quarries mighty Columns hew,
For Ornaments of Scenes, and future view.
Such is their Toyl, and such their buisy Pains,
As exercise the Bees in flow'ry Plains;
When Winter past, and Summer scarce begun,
Invites them forth to labour in the Sun:
Some lead their Youth abroad, while some condense
Their liquid Store, and some in Cells dispence.
Some at the Gate stand ready to receive
The Golden Burthen, and their Friends relieve.
All, with united Force, combine to drive
The lazy Drones from the laborious Hive;
With Envy stung, they view each others Deeds;
The fragrant Work with Diligence proceeds.