Page:Masterpieces of Greek Literature (1902).djvu/104

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, golden lyre! whose heav'n-invented string

To Phoebus and the blaek-hair'd nine belongs;

Who in sweet chorus round their tuneful king

Mix with thy sounding chords their sacred songs.

The dance, gay queen of pleasure, thee attends;

Thy jocund strains her list'ning feet inspire;

And each melodious tongue its voice suspends

Till thou, great leader of the heav'nly quire,

With wanton art preluding giv'st the sign—

Swells the full concert then with harmony divine.

Then, of their streaming lightnings all disarm'd,

The smould'ring thunderbolts of Jove expire;

Then, by the music of thy numbers charm'd,

The birds' fierce monarch drops his vengeful ire;

Perch'd on the sceptre of th' Olympian king,

The thrilling darts of harmony he feels;

And indolently hangs his rapid wing,

While gentle sleep his closing eyelid seals;

And o'er his heaving limbs in loose array

To ev'ry balmy gale the ruffling feathers play.

Ev'n Mars, stern god of violence and war,

Soothes with thy lulling strains his furious breast,