illi indignantes magno cum murmure montis circum claustra fremunt; celsa sedet Aeolus arce sceptra tenens, mollitque animos et temperat iras; ni faciat, maria ac terras caelumque profundum quippe ferant rapidi secum verrantque per auras.
They, to the mountains mighty moans, chafe blustering around the barriers. In his lofty citadel sits Aeolus, sceptre in hand, taming their passions and soothing their rage; did he not so, they would surely bear off with them in wild flight seas and lands and the vault of heaven, sweeping them through space.
final_alignments\Virgil_Aeneid_Book1.json