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Whom earth-encircling Neptune loved,

When from the glowing caldron's round,

His arm with ivory shoulder crown'd,

Clotho the newborn youth removed.

So much to fabled lore we trace—

For wrapp'd in varied falsehood's veil

Full oft the legendary tale

Can win to faith the mortal mind,

While truth's unvarnish'd maxims fail

To leave her stamp behind.

When from poetic tongue

The honey'd accents fall,

Howe'er from monstrous fiction sprung,

They win their unsuspected way,

And grace disguises all,

Till some far-distant day

Render the dark illusion plain.

Yet not to mortal lips be given

By tales unworthy to profane

The majesty of Heaven.

Offspring of Tantalus! my strain

A different story shall record;

How to the genial board

Thy father call'd each heavenly guest,

To share the blameless feast,

With grateful hands upon the head

Of his dear Sipylus outspread.

'Twas then, by fond desire subdued,

Thy form the trident bearer view'd,