Queen of the mountains far and near,
And of the woodlands wild,
Who, thrice invok'd, art swift to hear,
And save the maids with child;
This pine, that o'er my villa tow'rs,
And from its eminence embow'rs,
I dedicate alone to thee;
Where ev'ry year a pig shall bleed,
Lest his obliquity succeed
Against they fav'rite tree.

Horace, Ode III.22. Translated by Christopher Smart. From Works of Horace, Translated into Verse, 1767

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