So, smit by loyal passion's restless stings,Rome for her Caesar yearns.In safety range the cattle o'er the mead:Sweet Peace, soft Plenty, swell the golden grain:O'er unvex'd seas the sailors blithely speed:Fair Honour shrinks from stain:No guilty lusts the shrine of home defile:Cleansed is the hand without, the heart within:The father's features in his children smileSwift vengeance follows sin.Who fears the Parthian or the Scythian horde,Or the rank growth that German forests yield,