Thence on Olympus 'mid Celestials placed,
God of the winds, and Ether's boundless waste,
Thee I invoke! Oh, puff my bold design,
Prompt the bright thought, and swell the harmonious line;
Uphold my pinions, and my verse inspire
With Winsor's patent gas, or wind of fire,
In whose pure blaze thy embryo form enroll'd,
The dark enlightens, and enchafes the cold.
But while I court thy gifts, be mine to shun
The deprecated prize Ulysses won;