Page:The Pleasures of Imagination - Akenside (1744).djvu/46

32 In noontide darkness by th' glimm'ring lamp, Each muse and each fair science pin'd away The sordid hours: while foul, barbarian hands Their mysteries profan'd, unstrung the lyre, And chain'd the soaring pinion down to earth. At last the Muses rose, and spurn'd their bonds, And wildly warbling scatter'd, as they flew, Their blooming wreaths from fair Valclusa's bow'rs To Arno's myrtle border and the shore Of