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,