LX.

Fain would I sing (much yet unsung remains) What sweet delirium o'er his bosom stole, When the great shepherd of the Mantuan plains[6] His deep majestic melody 'gan roll: Fain would I sing what transport storm'd his soul, How the red current throbb'd his veins along, When, like Pelides, bold beyond control, Without art graceful, without effort strong, Homer rais'd high to Heaven the loud, th' impetuous song.