Thy country's scene in thy just praise, on high
Thy glory to affirm. Thou follow on
To sacred Helicon, which Cynthia bathes
With her immortal light, the Muses' crown
Of ivy and of laurel there to gain."
Be not offended, Sir, if e'er so poor
The tribute that I dedicate; and what
Could worthy be the greatness of thy name?
The gift is humble, the desire is rich;
And not sufficing more my sterile vein,
What I can give I offer. Prostrate thus,
On the rude altars he has raised, is wont
The husbandman to heap the simple fruits
Of his fields gather'd round; and offering them
To the high tutelar deity he adores,
Spreads them forth grateful, incenses and flowers.
EPISTLE TO DON GASPAR DE JOVELLANOS,
SENT FROM ROME.
Yes! the pure friendship, that in kindly bonds
Our souls united, durable exists,
