Through Colophon,) and shouts of joyfulness,
The air was riv'n: for thou didst hear the tale
Of Galatea lost, fair shepherdess,
Whom e'en the firstlings of her flock bewail.
XI.
Nor is Philetas' name to thee unknown,
Than whom a sweeter minstrel never was;
Whose statue lives in his own native town,
Hallow'd to fame, and breathes in deathless brass,
Under a platane,—seeming still to praise