Work-Book

1   T-I|   unbound,~touching the cold hearth with trembling lips,~poured
2 T-III|       let Caesar not will my hearth and home here,~but only
3   T-V|      turf,~and veil the warm hearth with a woven garland,~Boy,
4   T-V|     I should leave my native hearth.~Caesar’s power proved lenient
5  ExII|   the smoke of his ancestral hearth again.~Our native soil draws
6   Ind| sorrows. Their altar was the hearth, which they shared with
7   Ind|     The ‘shining one’. Every hearth had its Vesta, and she presided