Chapter 12 of 24 · 51 words · ~1 min read

II.

Or his swelling grapes, that vie With the fleece of Tyrian stain! Such precious gifts his grateful cares supply To thee, Protector of his wide domain, Bounteous Sylvanus!--and to thee, The garden's watchful Deity; Beneath your favoring power he little cares Who wields the Lictor's rod, or who the fasces bears.