Here, stretched within his mountain cave,830
Once Chiron to Achilles gave
The lyre, whose stirring strains attest
The warlike passions of his breast.835
What foreign shore our homeless band invites?
Must we our native country deem
Where bright Carystos' marbles gleam?
Where Chalcis breasts the heaving tide,
And swift Euripus' waters glide?
Perchance unhappy fortune calls840