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!