I wish to tune my quivering lyre, [i] To deeds of fame, and notes of fire; To echo, from its rising swell, How heroes fought and nations fell, When Atreus' sons advanc'd to war, Or Tyrian Cadmus rov'd afar; But still, to martial strains unknown, My lyre recurs to Love alone. Fir'd with the hope of future fame, [ii] I seek some nobler Hero's name; The dying chords are strung anew, To war, to war, my harp is due: With glowing strings, the Epic strain To Jove's great son I raise again; Alcides and his glorious deeds, Beneath whose arm the Hydra bleeds; All, all in vain; my wayward lyre Wakes silver notes of soft Desire. Adieu, ye Chiefs renown'd in arms! Adieu the clang of War's alarms! [iii] To other deeds my soul is strung, And sweeter notes shall now be sung; My harp shall all its powers reveal, To tell the tale my heart must feel; Love, Love alone, my lyre shall claim, In songs of bliss and sighs of flame. [Footnote 1: The motto does not appear in 'Hours of Idleness' or 'Poems O. and T.'] [Footnote i: 'I sought to tune'----.--['MS. Newstead'.]] [Footnote ii: 'The chords resumed a second strain, To Jove's great son I strike again. Alcides and his glorious deeds, Beneath whose arm the Hydra bleeds'. ['MS. Newstead'.]] [Footnote iii: 'The Trumpet's blast with these accords To sound the clash of hostile swords-- Be mine the softer, sweeter care To soothe the young and virgin Fair'. ['MS. Newstead'.]] FROM ANACREON. [Greek: Mesonuktiois poth h_opais, k.t.l.] [1] ODE 3.