For me no fields remote are harvested
Beyond the Getae and the Parthians;
No incense burns for me, nor are my shrines
Adorned in impious neglect of Jove;
No forests wave upon my battlements,
No vast pools steam for my delight; my days465
Are not to slumber given, nor do I spend
The livelong night in drunken revelry.
No one feels fear of me, and so my home,
Though all unguarded, is from danger free;