animum spe finis dura ferentem,

Cum sociis operum, et pueris, et conjuge fidâ,

Tellurem porco, Silvanum lacte piabant;

Floribus et vino Genium memorem brevis ævi.

Fescennina per hunc inventa licentia morem

Versibus alternis opprobria rustica fudit.

Our brawny clowns, of old, who turned the soil,

Content with little, and inured to toil,

At harvest-home, with mirth and country cheer,

Restored their bodies for another year;

Refreshed their spirits, and renewed their hope

Of such a future feast, and future crop.

Then, with their fellow-joggers of the ploughs,

Their little children, and their faithful spouse,

A sow they slew to Vesta's deity,

And kindly milk, Silvanus, poured to thee;

With flowers, and wine, their Genius they adored;

A short life, and a merry, was the word.

From flowing cups, defaming rhymes ensue,

And at each other homely taunts they threw.

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