aspicis ut templis alius nitor, altior aris ignis et ipsa meae tepeant tibi sidera brumae moribus aequa tuis? gaudent turmaeque tribusque purpureique patres, lucemque a consule ducit omnis honos.
See you how a new gleam is in the temples, how the flame mounts higher on the altars, and how the very stars of my midwinter grow warm for you, matching your manners? Knights and tribes and purple-clad Fathers rejoice, every office draws luster from our Consul.
final_alignments\Statius_Silvae_Book4.json