Haec sat erit, divae, vestrum cecinisse poetam, dum sedet et gracili fiscellam texit hibisco, Pierides: vos haec facietis maxima Gallo, Gallo, cuius amor tantum mihi crescit in horas, quantum vere novo viridis se subicit alnus.
These strains, Muses divine, it will be enough for your bard to have sung, as he sits and weaves a basket of slender willow. These strains ye shall make of highest worth in Gallus eyes'Gallus, for whom my love grows from hour to hour as fast as the green alder shoots up when spring is young.
final_alignments\Virgil_Eclogues.json