Horace, creator; Conington, John, 1825-1869, editor

  • Come down, Calliope, from above:
  • Breathe on the pipe a strain of fire:
  • Or if a graver note thou love,
  • With Phoebus' cittern and his lyre.
  • You hear her? or is this the play
  • Of fond illusion? Hark! meseems
  • Through gardens of the good I stray,
  • 'Mid murmuring gales and purling streams.
  • Me, as I lay on Vultur's steep,
  • A truant past Apulia's bound,
  • O'ertired, poor child, with play and sleep,
  • With living green the stock-doves crown'd—
  • A legend, nay, a miracle,
  • By Acherontia's nestlings told,
  • By all in Bantine glade that dwell,
  • Or till the rich Forentan mould.
  • “Bears, vipers, spared him as he lay,
  • The sacred garland deck'd his hair,
  • The myrtle blended with the bay:
  • The child's inspired: the gods were there.”