LIX.

Fain would I sing (much yet unsung remains) What sweet delirium o'er his bosom stole, When the great Shepherd of the Mantuan plains His deep majestic melody 'gan roll: Fain would I sing, what transport stormed his soul, How the red current throbbed his veins along, When, like Pelides, bold beyond controul, Gracefully terrible, sublimely strong, Homer raised high to heaven the loud, the impetuous song.