Nay, given to flame, ah, well a way!The babe unborn:But, won by Venus' voice and thine,Relenting Jove Aeneas will'dWith other omens more benignNew walls to build.Sweet tuner of the Grecian lyre,Whose locks are laved in Xanthus' dews,Blooming Agyieus! help, inspireMy Daunian Muse!'Tis Phoebus, Phoebus gifts my tongueWith minstrel art and minstrel fires:Come, noble youths and maidens sprungFrom noble sires,Blest in your Dian's guardian smile,Whose shafts the flying silvans stay,