Cease the sage Grecian, and the Man of Troy3
to vaunt long Voyage made in bygone day:
Cease Alexander, Trajan cease to 'joy
the fame of vict'ories that have pass'd away:
The noble Lusian's stouter breast sing I,
whom Mars and Neptune dared not disobey:
Cease all that antique Muse hath sung, for now
a better Brav'ry rears its bolder brow.
And you, my Tagian Nymphs,[1] who have create4
in me new purpose with new genius firing;
if 't was my joy whilere to celebrate
your founts and stream my humble song inspiring;[2]
Oh! lend me here a noble strain elate,
a style grandiloquent that flows untiring;
so shall Apollo for your waves ordain ye
in name and fame ne'er envy Hippokréné.
Grant me sonorous accents, fire-abounding,5
now serves ne peasant's pipe, ne rustick reed;
but blast of trumpet, long and loud resounding,
that 'flameth heart and hue to fiery deed:
Grant me high strains to suit their Gestes astounding,
your Sons, who aided Mars in martial need;
that o'er the world be sung the glorious song,
if theme so lofty may to verse belong.
