Odes 1.21 (Martin): Dianam Tenerae

Ye tender virgins fair,
To great Diana sing,
Ye boys, to Cynthius of the unshorn hair,
Your dulcet anthems bring,
And let Latona mingle with your theme,
That dearer is than all to Jove, Heaven's lord supreme!

Her praises sing, ye maids,
Who doth in streams delight,
In whispering groves, and intertangled glades,
On Algidus' cool height,
Or Erymanthus with its dusky pines,
Or where with verdure bright the leafy Cragus shines.

Ye boys, in numbers meet.
Fair Tempe's praises chant,
Delos, that was Apollo's natal seat,
And loved peculiar haunt;
Sing, too, his quiver with its golden gleams,
And lyre, his brother's gift, that from his shoulder beams!

Moved by your prayers he will
Banish distressful war.
Famine, and pestilence, and then- trains of ill
From our loved Rome afar,
And from great Caesar, scattering their blight,
The Persian's pride to quell, or Britain's chainless might.