But oft amid the Græcian throng, The loose-rob'd forms of wild desire With lawless notes intun'd thy song, To shameful steps dissolv'd thy quire. O fair, O chaste, be still with me From such profaner discord free: While I frequent thy tuneful shade, No frantic shouts of Thracian dames, No satyrs fierce with savage flames Thy pleasing accents shall invade. Queen of the lyre, in thy retreat The fairest flow'rs of Pindus glow; The vine aspires to crown thy seat, And myrtles round thy laurel grow. Thy strings attune their varied strain, To ev'ry pleasure, every pain, Which mortal tribes were born to prove, And strait our passions rise or fall, As at the wind's imperious call The ocean swells, the billows move. When midnight listens o'er the slumb'ring earth, Let me, O Muse, thy solemn whispers hear: When morning sends her fragrant breezes forth, With airy murmurs touch my op'ning ear. And ever watchful at thy side, Let wisdom's awful suffrage guide The tenour of thy lay: To her of old by JOVE was giv'n To judge the various deeds of earth and heav'n; 'Twas thine by gentle arts to win us to her sway. Oft as from stricter hours resign'd I quit the maze where science toils, Do thou refresh my yielding mind With all thy gay, delusive spoils. But, O indulgent, come not nigh The busy steps, the jealous eye Of gainful care, and wealthy age, Whose barren souls thy joys disdain, And hold as foes to reason's reign Whome'er thy lovely haunts engage. With me, when mirth's consenting band Around fair friendship's genial board Invite the heart-awakening hand, With me salute the Teian chord. Or if invok'd at softer hours, O seek with me the happy bow'rs That hear DIONE'S gentle tongue; To beauty link'd with virtue's train, To love devoid of jealous pain, There let the Sapphic lute be strung. But when from envy and from death to claim A hero bleeding for his native land; Or when to nourish freedom's vestal flame, I hear my genius utter his command, Nor Theban voice, nor Lesbian lyre From thee, O Muse, do I require, While my prophetic mind, Conscious of pow'rs she never knew, Astonish'd grasps at things beyond her view, Nor by another's fate hath felt her own confin'd. FOOTNOTES: [22] ALCÆUS of Mitylene, the capital of Lesbos, who fled from his native city to escape the oppression of those who had inslav'd it, and wrote against them in his exile those noble invectives which are so much applauded by the ancient critics. [23] PINDAR. FINIS. * * * * * TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES