muses of Sicily, essay we nowa somewhat loftier task! Not all men lovecoppice or lowly tamarisk: sing we woods,woods worthy of a Consul let them be.Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sunghas come and gone, and the majestic rollof circling centuries begins anew:justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign,with a new breed of men sent down from heaven.Only do thou, at the boy's birth in whomthe iron shall cease, the golden race arise,befriend him, chaste Lucina; 'tis thine ownapollo reigns. And in thy consulate,this glorious age, O Pollio, shall begin,and the months enter on their mighty march.Under thy guidance, whatso tracks remainof our old wickedness, once done away,shall free the earth from never-ceasing fear.He shall receive the life of gods, and seeheroes with gods commingling, and himself