Invite, by turn, each Demigod of Spring—
Great Mars, assist us! Triumph! Triumph sing!
“Let the red buskin now your limbs invest,
And the loose robe be belted to your breast;
The rattling quiver let your shoulders bear—
Throw off the hounds which scent the secret lair.”
“Livius ille vetus Grajo cognomine, suæ
Inserit Inonis versu, puto, tale docimen,
Præmisso heroo subjungit namque μειουρον,
Hymno quando Chorus festo canit ore Triviæ—