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But quickly heaven's Saturnian lord

Snatch'd with each hand the life restored;

And wing'd his bolt of lurid flame

Once more to crush the mortal frame.

From him let all of human kind

Learn to acquire an humble mind:

Nor 'gainst the rulers of the sky

To vaunt their fleeting destiny.

Affect not then, beloved soul,

The life immortal of the bless'd:

Let prudence thy desires control,

In practicable schemes to rest.

If Chiron, of unerring skill,

Dwelt in his Pelion cavern still;

And if the sweet-toned hymns could find

Their wanton passage to his mind,

Then my persuasive tongue had pray'd

(Nor vainly) the physician's aid;

Who should some healing brother give,

Latona's son or Jove's, to gain

Respite from fever's burning pain,

And bid th' afflicted god revive.

In ships that cut th' Ionian sea

I come to my Ætnæan friend.

Mild king! whose cares, from envy free,

O'er Syracusa's sons extend.

Foster'd by him, e'en strangers prove

The blessings of a father's love.

If, crossing the Sicilian deep,

Her onward course my bark should keep,

To him my grateful hand would bear

Of twofold joys a garland fair.

Health's golden charm, the loud acclaim

That sings the Pythian victor's fame;