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