Of the Pierides, untrod before
By any mortal’s foot. ’Tis sweet to go
To fountains new and drink; and sweet it is
To pluck new flow’rs and seek a garland thence
For my own head, whence ne’er before a crown
The Muses twined for any mortal’s brow.
’Tis first because I teach of weighty things
And guide my course to set the spirit free
From superstition’s closely knotted bonds;
And next because concerning matters dark