519Winter comes: the Sicyonian berry is crushed in the olive-mills, the swine come home glad with acorns, the woods give arbutus berries; 521and autumn sets down its varied produce, and high up on the sunny rocks the mellow vintage ripens. 523Meanwhile his sweet children hang about his kisses, his chaste house keeps its purity, the cows let down their milky udders, and fat kids on the glad grass wrestle with each other, horns against horns. 527He himself keeps holidays, and stretched on the grass, where there is a fire in the middle and his companions wreathe the mixing-bowl, he calls on you, Lenaeus, as he pours libation, and for the masters of the flock sets up contests with the swift javelin at a mark on an elm, and they bare their hardy bodies for the rustic wrestling.
532This life the old Sabines once cultivated, this Remus and his brother; thus, surely, brave Etruria grew, and Rome became the fairest of things, and with a single wall enclosed her seven citadels. 536Before even the sceptre of the Dictaean king, and before an impious race feasted on slaughtered bullocks, golden Saturn led this life on earth; 539nor yet had men heard war-trumpets blown, nor yet swords clang as they were laid on hard anvils.