The gold dissembled well their yellow hair,

And golden chains on their white necks they wear.

Gold are their vests; long Alpine spears they wield,

And their left arm sustains a length of shield.

Hard by, the leaping Salian priests advance;

And naked through the streets the mad Luperci dance:

In caps of wool; the targets dropt from heaven.

Here modest matrons, in soft litters driven,

To pay their vows in solemn pomp appear,

And odorous gums in their chaste hands they bear.