The thrilling darts of harmony he feels,
And indolently hangs his rapid wing,
While gentle sleep his closing eye-lids seals;
And o’er his heaving limbs, in loose array
To every balmy gale the ruffling feathers play. West.
Homer never touches this sublime subject, without employing the utmost reach of his invention to excite admiration in his reader.
Ζευς δε Πατηρ ιδηθεν ευτροχον ἁρμα και ἱππους
Ολυμπονδ’ εδιωκε, θεων δ’ εξεκετο θωκους.
Τω δε και ἱππους μεν λυσε κλυτος Εννοσιγαιος
Ἁρματα δ’ αμβρωμοισι τιθει, κατα λιτα πετασσας.