No former race,
With strong embrace,
This theme to ravish durst aspire;
With virgin charms
My soul it warms,
And melts melodious on my lyre.
My lays I file
With cautious toil;
Ye graces! turn the glowing lines;
On anvils neat
No former race,
With strong embrace,
This theme to ravish durst aspire;
With virgin charms
My soul it warms,
And melts melodious on my lyre.
My lays I file
With cautious toil;
Ye graces! turn the glowing lines;
On anvils neat