Dixerat, et Thracum Cyllenius arva subibat; atque illum Arctoae labentem cardine portae tempestas aeterna plagae praetentaque caelo agmina nimborum primique Aquilonis hiatus in diversa ferunt: crepat aurea grandine multa palla, nec Arcadii bene protegit umbra galeri.
He spoke and the Cyllenian was nearing the land of Thrace. As he glided down from the Bears polar gate, he was carried this way and that by the tempest endemic to the region, the racks of rain clouds spread over the sky, and the first gapings of Aquilos mouth. His golden mantle rattles with pouring hail and the shady Arcadian hat  gives scant cover.
final_alignments\Statius_Thebaid_Book7.json