Levia Gravia.

V INVOCATION TO THE LYRE

If once I cut thee with a trembling hand

From Latin bough to Phœbus that belongs,

So now, O Lyre, shalt thou rehearse the songs

Of the Tuscan land.

What consolations fierce to bosoms hard

Of bristling warriors thou wast wont to bring,

Or else in peace the soothing verse to sing

Of the Lesbian bard!