Summer treads on heels of spring.

Content with his past life, let him take leave of life like a satiated guest.

He tosses aside his paint-pots and his words a foot and a half long.

Stronger than thunder's winged force All-powerful gold can speed its course; Through watchful guards its passage make, And loves through solid walls to break.

Happy he who far from business, like the primitive are of mortals, cultivates with his own oxen the fields of his fathers, free from all anxieties of gain.

What can be found equal to modesty, uncorrupt faith, the sister of justice, and undisguised truth?

The mountains are in labour, the birth will be an absurd little mouse.