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XLVII

Dulcis odor nemoris flamma fumoque fatigor,
Et placet hoc superis, medios quod mittor in ignes,
Cum mihi peccandi meritum natura negavit.

Peck:

Sweet odour of the grove, with flame and vapour weighed,
The gods are pleased with this, that I 'mid fires be laid,
Nor may I sin, for me my nature so hath made.

Ohl:

Sweet odor of the grove by fire and fume fatigued, I please the gods above by being placed in the midst of flames, whereas nature has denied me the deserts of sinning.

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Page updated: 7 Feb 06

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