II.—1.
Such was the Chian father's strain
To many a kind domestic train,
Whose pious hearth and genial bowl
Had cheer'd the reverend pilgrim's soul:
When, every hospitable rite
With equal bounty to requite,
He struck his magic strings,
And pour'd spontaneous numbers forth,
And seized their ears with tales of ancient worth,
And fill'd their musing hearts with vast heroic things.