Only do thou, at the boy's birth in whomthe iron shall cease, the golden race arise,befriend him, chaste Lucina; 'tis thine ownapollo reigns. And in thy consulate,this glorious age, O Pollio, shall begin,and the months enter on their mighty march.Under thy guidance, whatso tracks remainof our old wickedness, once done away,shall free the earth from never-ceasing fear.He shall receive the life of gods, and seeheroes with gods commingling, and himselfbe seen of them, and with his father's worthreign o'er a world at peace. For thee, O boy,first shall the earth, untilled, pour freely forthher childish gifts, the gadding ivy-spraywith foxglove and Egyptian bean-flower mixed,and laughing-eyed acanthus. Of themselves,