LVII.

But She, who set on fire his infant heart, And all his dreams, and all his wanderings shared And blessed, the Muse, and her celestial art, Still claim the Enthusiast's fond and first regard. From Nature's beauties variously compared, And variously combined, he learns to frame Those forms of bright perfection, which the Bard, While boundless hopes and boundless views inflame, Enamoured consecrates to never-dying fame.