Book XVI, 227: On a Statue of Hermes

Throw thyself down here, wayfarer, on the green meadow, and rest thy languid limbs from painful toil; here where the pine also, tossed by the western breeze, shall soothe thee as thou listenest to the song of the cicadas, and the shepherd likewise on the hills, piping at mid-day by the fountain under the leafy plane-tree. Thus, having escaped the burning heat of the autumnal dog-star, thou shalt in good time cross the hill. Take this counsel that Hermes gives thee.