Quarta redit duris haec iam messoribus aestas, et totiens cano bruma gelu riguit, ex quo nulla tuo mihi littera venit ab ore, nulla tua vidi scripta notata manu, ante salutifero felix quam charta libello dona negata diu multiplicata daret.
Tis the fourth summer now returns for hardy reapers, and as oft has winter grown stark with hoary rime, since any syllable from thy lips reached me, since I saw any letter penned by thy hand'ere thy page, auspicious with its message of greeting, bestowed manifold the gift so long denied.
final_alignments\Ausonius_Epistles.json