But scarce had breath’d three times before he
Was hous’d in heaven’s high upper story,[5]
Where mortals none but poets enter,
Above where Mah’met’s ass dar’d venture.
Strange things he saw, and those who know him
Have said that, in his Epic Poem,[6]
To be complete within a year hence,
They’ll make a terrible appearance.
And now, to set my verses going,
Like “Joan of Arc,” sublimely flowing,