Horace Ii, 13.
O fountain of Blandusia,
Whence crystal waters flow,
With garlands gay and wine I’ll pay
The sacrifice I owe;
A sportive kid with budding horns
I have, whose crimson blood
Anon shall die and sanctify
Thy cool and babbling flood.
O fountain of Blandusia,
The dogstar’s hateful spell
No evil brings unto the springs
That from thy bosom well;
Here oxen, wearied by the plow,
The roving cattle here,
Hasten in quest of certain rest
And quaff thy gracious cheer.
O fountain of Blandusia,
Ennobled shalt thou be,
For I shall sing the joys that spring
Beneath your ilex tree;
Yes, fountain of Blandusia,
Posterity shall know
The cooling brooks that from thy nooks
Singing and dancing go!
