“Now the last age of Cumic song has come: A cycle vast of ages new appears; Virtue returns, and Saturn’s former reign: Now a new race descends from lofty heaven. O chaste Lucina, hail the coming prince, Who shall the death of _Iron rule_[67] behold, And resurrection of the _Golden age_: For in this age, the Great Apollo reigns. This glorious year, O Pollio, is thine; And now the vast lunations are begun. This year, if any trace of crime remain, With its destruction, fear for ever flies. That prince, on earth, the life of gods shall lead, Heroes with gods in council he shall see, And they with wonder shall behold his deeds: While with paternal sway, the world he rules. O, prince! to thee spontaneous earth shall bring Her early fruits, and sweetest smelling shrubs, On velvet flowers thy infant feet shall tread; Before thy face, the serpent shall succumb, And poisoned herbs their baneful power shall lose: The Rose of Sharon everywhere shall spring. In early youth thou shalt delight to read The praise of heroes, and thy father’s deeds, And all that tends to form the virtuous mind; Soon shall the fields be to the harvest white, And prickly thorns be changed to blushing vines, While honey sweet the knotty oak shall yield. Yet traces of man’s early sin shall rise, And lead him to renew his toils at sea, To wall his towns, and cultivate the ground. Again, the Argonauts shall skim the main; Again, the Theban war shall be begun; Again, to Troy, shall Peleus’ son descend.”