So, when the tempest bursting wakes the war, / the justling winds in conflict rave and roar, / South, West and East upon his orient car, / the lashed woods howl, and with his trident hoar / Nereus in foam upheaves the watery floor.
Cur igitur non omnia speranda nobis sint, si rite, si sancte, ut addecet, hac ratione caelesti Matri supplicemus?Tatoeba-2020.08 Tatoeba-2020.08