Smiles gracious; him from fear,
And terror of the scourge divine,
He purifies with blood of swine
And sprinkled water clear.
O blessed was the calm that now
Lulled his racked brain, and smoothed his brow!
Nor wildly now did roll
His sleepless eyes; from gracious Jove
Came down the gentle dew of love
That soothed his wounded soul.