The last great age the Sybil told has come;
The new order of centuries is born;
The Virgin now returns, and the reign of Saturn;
The new generation now comes down from heaven.
Lucina, look with··ofavor on this child,
-Lucina, goddess, pure-this child by whom
The Age of Iron gives way to the Golden Age.
Now is the time of your Apollo's reign;
And, Pollio, in your consulship, begins
The grand procession of the mighty months,
Commencement of the glory, freedom from
Earth's bondage to its own perpetual fear.
Our crimes are going to be erased at last.
This child will share in the life of the gods and he
Will see and be seen in the company of heroes,
And he will be the ruler of a world
Made peaceful by the merits of his father.
Dear child, there will be new little gifts for you,
Springtime valerian, and trailing ivy,
Egyptian beans, and smiling acanthus, all
Poured out profusely from the untilled earth.
The goats will come back home all by themselves
Without being called, their udders full of milk;
The browsing herds will have no fear of lions;
Your cradle will be a cornucopia
Of smiling flowers blossoming around you;
Nowhere will there be serpents any more,
And nowhere plants in which a poison hides;
And everywhere the Assyrian spice will flourish .
As soon as you are old enough to read
The praise of heroes and your father's deeds
And therefore know what excellence consists of,
The grain will yellow and ripen in the fields,
The purple grapes will cluster on wild vines,
And honey will drip like dew from the hard oak tree.
But there will still be vestiges of sin,
And therefore men will still be forced to try
The sea in ships, build walls around their towns,
And labor in their fields to plow their soil.
There will be need for yet another Argo
To carry its chosen heroes on their mission;
There'll be another war, and once again
Another Achilles will be called to Troy.
