Thus of unmixed descent The babe who, dreading not the serpent touch, Plays in his cradle with the deadly snake.
Nor with their own immunity from harm Contented do they rest, but watch for guests Who need their help against the noisome plague.
Now to the Roman standards are they come, And when the chieftain bade the tents be fixed, First all the sandy space within the lines With song they purify and magic words From which all serpents flee: next round the camp In widest circuit from a kindled fire Rise aromatic odours: danewort burns, And juice distils from Syrian galbanum; Then tamarisk and costum, Eastern herbs, Strong panacea mixt with centaury From Thrace, and leaves of fennel feed the flames, And thapsus brought from Eryx: and they burn Larch, southern-wood and antlers of a deer Which lived afar.

From these in densest fumes, Deadly to snakes, a pungent smoke arose; And thus in safety passed the night away.
But should some victim feel the fatal fang Upon the march, then of this magic race Were seen the wonders, for a mighty strife Rose 'twixt the Psyllian and the poison germ.
First with saliva they anoint the limbs That held the venomous juice within the wound; Nor suffer it to spread.

From foaming mouth Next with continuous cadence would they pour Unceasing chants -- nor breathing space nor pause -- Else spreads the poison: nor does fate permit A moment's silence.

Oft from the black flesh Flies forth the pest beneath the magic song: But should it linger nor obey the voice, Repugmant to the summons, on the wound Prostrate they lay their lips and from the depths Now paling draw the venom.

In their mouths, Sucked from the freezing flesh, they hold the death, Then spew it forth; and from the taste shall know The snake they conquer.
Aided thus at length Wanders the Roman host in better guise Upon the barren fields in lengthy march.