Whene’er thy feet the river-ford essay,
Whose flowing current winds its limpid way,
Thy hands amidst the pleasant waters lave,
And lowly gazing on the beauteous wave
Appease the river-god: if thou perverse
Pass with unsprinkled hands, a heavy curse
Shall rest upon thee from th’ observant skies,
And after-woes retributive arise.
When in the fane [134]the feast of gods is laid,
[135]Ne’er to thy five-branch’d hand apply the blade