WHO is free from life's contagion
Never, Fuscus, need he fear
Poisoned arrow, clever archer,
Never dread the Maurian spear;
If he roam through shifting Syrtes,
Caucasus' unfriendly shores,
Or where India's affluent river
Gold in every torrent pours.
I was humming "My Lelage,"
Straying on without a care,
In my Sabine wood I wandered,
When a wolf sprang from its lair.
But he fled, and such an omen
Heaven-sent must be, I know:
Mauritania, Greece, Numidia, -
I am safe where'er I go.
Yes, place me where in early spring
No trees can bud, deserted climes,
Where heaven is freezing overhead,
And all the law in bondage binds,
Or where man has never lived,
Parched realms that know not shade, -
I will sing my precious darling,
Lelage, my precious maid.
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Communication.
