Thus briefly to th’ assembled pow’rs apply’d:
LIX.
“Genii of gardens, meads, and sylvan scenes,
Attendant still in Flora’s vernal train,
Say what this ardent, fond contention means,
Why strive you thus for pow’r, and strive in vain?
LX.
Are you not all beneath our sceptre blest;
Say, do not all confess our gentle sway?
Then seek not one to triumph o’er the rest,