Thou art wont to sound when the learnéd muse
Surveys thy sports.
And yet, an' thou wilt, strike a heavier strain,330
As when thou didst sing of the Titans o'ercome
By Jupiter's hurtling bolts;
When mountain on lofty mountain piled,
Pelion, Ossa, and pine-clad Olympus,
Built high to the sky for the impious monsters335
Their ladder's rocky rounds.
Thou too be with us, Juno, queen,