GetPassage urn:cts:latinLit:phi0893.phi001.perseus-eng2:3.14.1-3.14.20 urn:cts:latinLit:phi0893.phi001.perseus-eng2:3.14.1-3.14.20
Our Hercules, they told us, Rome,Had sought the laurel Death bestows:Now Glory brings him conqueror homeFrom Spaniard foes.Proud of her spouse, the imperial fairMust thank the gods that shield from death;His sister too:—let matrons wearThe suppliant wreathFor daughters and for sons restored:Ye youths and damsels newly wed,Let decent awe restrain each wordBest left unsaid.This day, true holyday to me,Shall banish care: I will not fearRude broils or bloody death to see,While Caesar's here.Quick, boy, the chaplets and the nard,And wine, that knew the Marsian war,If roving Spartacus have sparedA single jar.