proxima Circaeae raduntur litora terrae, dives inaccessos ubi Solis filia lucos adsiduo resonat cantu, tectisque superbis urit odoratam nocturna in lumina cedrum arguto tenuis percurrens pectine telas.
The next shores they skirt are those of Circes realm, where the wealthy daughter of the Sun thrills the untrodden groves with ceaseless song and in her proud palace burns fragrant cedar to illuminate the night, while she drives her shrill shuttle through the fine web.
final_alignments\Virgil_Aeneid_Book7.json