Book III.18 of The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace

XVIII.

O wont the flying Nymphs to woo,
Good Faunus, through my sunny farm
Pass gently, gently pass, nor do
My younglings harm.
Each year, thou know'st, a kid must die
For thee; nor lacks the wine's full stream
To Venus' mate, the bowl; and high
The altars steam.
Sure as December's nones appear,
All o'er the grass the cattle play;
The village, with the lazy steer,
Keeps holyday.
Wolves rove among the fearless sheep;
The woods for thee their foliage strow;
The delver loves on earth to leap,
His ancient foe.

Faune, Nympharum.

Faune, Nympharum fugientum amator,
per meos finis et aprica rura
lenis incedas abeasque paruis
aequus alumnis,

si tener pleno cadit haedus anno 5
larga nec desunt Veneris sodali
uina craterae, uetus ara multo
fumat odore.

Ludit herboso pecus omne campo,
cum tibi Nonae redeunt Decembres, 10
festus in pratis uacat otioso
cum boue pagus;

inter audacis lupus errat agnos,
spargit agrestis tibi silua frondes,
gaudet inuisam pepulisse fosso 15
ter pede terram.

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