Echoes from the Sabine Farm

TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA

O fountain of Bandusia! more glittering than glass,
And worthy of the pleasant wine and toasts that freely pass; More worthy of the flowers with which thou modestly art hid, To-morrow willing hands shall sacrifice to thee a kid.

In vain the glory of the brow where proudly swell above
The growing horns, significant of battle and of love;
For in thy honor he shall die,--the offspring of the herd,-- And with his crimson life-blood thy cold waters shall be stirred.

The Dog-star's cruel season, with its fierce and blazing heat, Has never sent its scorching rays into thy glad retreat;
The oxen, wearied with the plow, the herd which wanders near, Have found a grateful respite and delicious coolness here.

When of the graceful ilex on the hollow rocks I sing,
Thou shalt become illustrious, O sweet Bandusian spring!