Oh! now to her what magic shall belong,
To charm the nations with a peerless song!
Hail Criticus! thou marvel of the age!
Oh! thou wilt fire her with a noble rage!
Oh! thou her song wilt kindly patronize,
And make her honored in the nation's eyes.
Oh! glorious vision which transports my soul,
While thoughts of triumph through my bosom roll;
The Goddess comes, she brightly smiles once more,
Nor sadly sighs, as long she sighed of yore;