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When Heaven, to soften human care, Bade pity sympathize with woe— That sorrow’s child should fortune share, Friendship bestow’d on man below, Whose balm dispelling every grief— Brought to the aching soul relief.

To inspire the jest, create the smile, Gay Momus reach’d one wave-bound isle, Proclaiming loud the thunderer’s love, To bless with mirth the sons of Jove, As Bacchus raised the generous vine, As Vulcan formed the sparking bowl,

Apollo struck the lyre divine, And music’s charms inspired the soul; Through heaven was heard the sacred sound, From heaven the pleasing notes rebound, When harmony arrived at earth, By wit inspired, to song gave birth.

And love his choicest chaplets wove, To deck the favorite sons of Jove; In peals of thunder swell the sound, Echo the mandate as it floats; Louder the enchanting theme resound, And catch the mirth-inspiring notes.