11
Ah! if these Bards had fall'n on other times,
The haughty Muse had spurn'd their proffer'd rhymes,
Had scourg'd them down her mountain's hallow'd side,
Their lyres all broken, and their wreaths untied;
In mute distress, had lock'd each tuneful tongue,
And Earth had miss'd full many a well known song.
The haughty Muse had spurn'd their proffer'd rhymes,
Had scourg'd them down her mountain's hallow'd side,
Their lyres all broken, and their wreaths untied;
In mute distress, had lock'd each tuneful tongue,
And Earth had miss'd full many a well known song.
In early days, when Codrus, hapless name!
Rais'd his bold voice, and sung of Theseus' fame,
While brethren Bards, with lyres of equal string,
Made Fronto's plains and marble arches ring;
'Twas not enough, the Muse despis'd their strains,
She doom'd the culprits to her heaviest pains,
Rais'd his bold voice, and sung of Theseus' fame,
While brethren Bards, with lyres of equal string,
Made Fronto's plains and marble arches ring;
'Twas not enough, the Muse despis'd their strains,
She doom'd the culprits to her heaviest pains,
