TO FEAR.
25
Who, Fear, this ghastly train can see,
And look not madly wild, like thee? 25
And look not madly wild, like thee? 25
EPODE.
In earliest Greece, to thee, with partial choice,
The grief-full Muse addrest her infant tongue;
The maids and matrons, on her awful voice,
Silent and pale, in wild amazement hung.
In earliest Greece, to thee, with partial choice,
The grief-full Muse addrest her infant tongue;
The maids and matrons, on her awful voice,
Silent and pale, in wild amazement hung.
Yet he, the bard[1] who first invoked thy name, 30
Disdain'd in Marathon its power to feel:
For not alone he nursed the poet's flame,
But reach'd from Virtue's hand the patriot's steel.
Disdain'd in Marathon its power to feel:
For not alone he nursed the poet's flame,
But reach'd from Virtue's hand the patriot's steel.
But who is he whom later garlands grace,
Who left a while o'er Hybla's dews to rove, 35
With trembling eyes thy dreary steps to trace,
Where thou and furies shared the baleful grove?
Who left a while o'er Hybla's dews to rove, 35
With trembling eyes thy dreary steps to trace,
Where thou and furies shared the baleful grove?