Thou too one day shalt win proud eminence'Mid honour'd founts, while I the ilex singCrowning the cavern, whenceThy babbling wavelets spring.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.