Sed quis ab excelsis Troianae collibus Albae, unde suae iuxta prospectat moenia Romae proximus ille deus, Fama velocior intrat nuntius atque tuos implet, Crispine, penates? dicebam certe: vatum non irrita currunt auguria
But who is this messenger from Trojan Albas lofty hills, where close at hand our god here present looks out upon the walls of his Rome? Swifter than Rumor he enters and fills your home, Crispinus. Did I not say so? Not idle run poets auguries.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book5.json