To The Fountain Of Bandusia. - Translations From Horace.
OD. iii. 13. Bandusia, stainless mirror of the sky! Thine is the flower-crown'd bowl, for thee shall die, When dawns again yon sun, the kid; Whose budding horns, half-seen, half-hid, Challenge to dalliance or to strife - in vain! Soon must the hope of the wild herd be slain, And those cold springs of thine With blood incarnadine. Fierce glows the Dog-star, but his fiery beam Toucheth not thee: still grateful thy cool stream To labour-wearied ox, Or wanderer from the flocks: And henceforth thou shalt be a royal fountain: My harp shall tell how from yon cavernous mountain, Topt by the brown oak-tree, Thou breakest babblingly.
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"OD. iii. 13...."
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