With all Apollo’s beauty bland,
And various verdure green.”
Uprose the knight with willing feet,
His heart was light, his pace was fleet;
Girt for the road and venture bold
He left the strong Tirynhian hold,
And gaily wends his way
O’er steep Arachne’s ridge, till he
Passed Æsculapius’ sacred fane,
That sendeth health, and healeth pain,