illius puro destillent tempora nardo, ille satur libo sit madeatque mero, adnuat et, Cornute, tibi, quodcumque rogabis.
his temples must drop with spikenard pure; he must be filled with honey-cake and tipsy with neat wine. And to whatsoever thou askest, Cornutus, must he bow assent.
final_alignments\Tibullus_Elegies.json