Solvitur acris hiems grata vice veris et Favoni

Bitter winter is dismissed by spring and Favonius’ long-awaited winds,
Long neglected keels are beckoned back to sea,
The ploughman no longer wants for a fire, nor flocks for the fold,
Nor are the meadows clothed in whiteness
Now Cytherea leads the dances, the moon suspended o’erhead
Lovely Nymphs and Graces too, hand in hand
Beat the earth with melodic feet, whilst lazy Cyclops sleeps,
Fiery Vulcan sees to his sultry summer storms.
Now ‘tis time to entwine the head with anointed myrtle green
Or flowers, newly released from the ground
Now too, is right to offer to Faunus, who lingering in the shadows
Desires to his penchant, a lamb or kidling both.
Pale Death, impartial to wealth or worth, to paupers and princes
A writ is sent. As blessed as you are Sestius
Your dreams of perpetual pleasure are larger than your fading fate
Soon night closes its gloomy darkness upon you too,
Ensnared in Death’s desolate house; where, once there, no longer
May you decide upon the dice, nor sip upon aged wine,
Nor marvel at the tender youth of Lycidas, who boys now burn for
But with the pass of time, young women shall too