What a lot of work it was to found the Roman race.
Sing in me, muse, of arms and a man, who first from the shores of Troy.
The accursed hunger for gold.
A fickle and changeful thing is a woman ever.
These passions of soul, these conflicts so fierce, will cease, and be repressed by the casting of a little dust.
What region of the earth is not full of our calamities?