Again thy fanes may boast a Titian’s dyes,
Whose clear soft brilliance emulates thy skies,
And scenes that glow in colouring’s richest bloom,
With life’s warm flush Palladian halls illume,
From thy rich dome again th’ unrivalled steed
Starts to existence, rushes into speed,
Still for Lysippus claims the wreath of fame,
Panting with ardour, vivified with flame.
Proud Racers of the Sun! to fancy’s thought,
Burning with spirit, from his essence caught,