Behold the buskin'd bard of Greece!
Th' inchantment of whose tuneful shell
Could sooth the mind to gentle peace,
Or rouse to fury sprung from hell!
See in his kindling look, the fire
Bright flaming from his golden lyre!
Hark how he sweeps the strings! — such tones
Nature design'd affliction's groans.
I feel, when now he wakes another strain,
The love of glory panting in each vein!