Antistrophe I

Where silent vales, and glades of green array, The murm'ring wreaths of cool Cephisus lave, There, as the Muse hath sung, at noon of day, The Queen of Beauty bow'd to taste the wave!

And blest the stream, and breath'd across the land, The soft sweet gale that fans yon summer bowers; And there the sister Loves, a smiling band, Crown'd with the fragrant wreaths of rosy flowers!

"And go," she cries, "in yonder valleys rove, With Beauty's torch the solemn scenes illume; Wake in each eye the radiant light of love, Breathe on each cheek young Passion's tender bloom!

Entwine, with myrtle chains, your soft controul, To sway the hearts of Freedom's darling kind! With glowing charms enrapture Wisdom's soul, And mould to grace ethereal Virtue's mind."