The god we now behold with opened eyes,
A herd of spotted panthers round him lies
In glaring forms; the grapy clusters spread
On his fair brows, and dangle on his head.
Ants do no bend their ways to empty barns, so no friend will visit the place of departed wealth.
[Lat., Horrea formicae tendunt ad inania nunquam
Nullus ad amissas ibit amicus opes.]
You start in April and cross to the time of May
One has you as it leaves, one as it comes
Since the edges of these months are yours and defer
To you, either of them suits your praises.
The Circus continues and the theatre's lauded palm,
Let this song, too, join the Circus spectacle.