corydon Muscosi fontes et somno mollior herba, et quae vos rara viridis tegit arbutus umbra, solstitium pecori defendite: iam venit aestas torrida, iam lento turgent in palmite gemmae.
You mossy springs, and lawns softer than sleep, and the green arbute that shields you with scanty shade, ward the noontide heat from my flock. Now comes the summers parching, now the buds swell on the pliant tendril.
final_alignments\Virgil_Eclogues.json