Page:Statius (Mozley 1928) v1.djvu/269

“Already the flight of rainy spring sets free the earth and the rushing pole, and scorches the heaven with Icarian bayings^[1]; already the high walls of crowded Rome grow empty. Some sacred Praeneste shelters, some Diana’s ice-cool glade or rugged Algidus or the shades of Tusculum; others are eager for the groves of Tibur or Anio’s cold waves. And thou—what gentler region draws thee from the clamorous city? With what sky art thou baffling the summer suns? And Gallus, thy favourite, thy chiefest care, whom I too love—whether more to be praised for virtue or for wit I know not—does he pass the summer on Latium’s coast, or seek again the walls of Luna rich in mines and his Tyrrhenian home? But if he is close by thy side, my name now is not far from thy converse; ay, ’tis certain; that is why both my ears are buzzing. But do thou, while the angry mane of Cleonae’s star^[2] is blazing, possessed by Hyperion’s exceeding might, set free thy heart from cares and escape from constant toil. The Parthian puts up his noxious arrows and unstrings his bow, and the charioteer refreshes in Alpheus the steeds that Elean labours have exhausted, and my lyre grows weary and is relaxed: timely repose heartens and nourishes strength, valour is increased by a spell of ease. Even so Achilles, when he had sung of Briseis, went forth the fiercer, and putting by his quill burst out against Hector. Thee too will leisure sought once more awhile secretly kindle, and thou wilt go forth refreshed and exultant to thy wonted tasks. Now indeed the Roman courts have ceased to bicker, ’tis the season of idleness and peace,