Epode

Then, O Thalia! let thy sacred shell Wake the lofty sounds that swell With rapture unreproved the patriot breast! Robed in her many-colour’d vest On Isis’ banks shall Science stand, Waving in her bounteous hand A wond’rous chaplet; high reward Of toils, by public virtue dared: And while to claim the envied meed Fair Fame her vot’ries leads, thy voice, O Muse, shall join th’ applauded choice That fix’d the glorious wreath on FREDERICK’s honour’d head!