Wise prayer; for scarce the words are gone
From thy free mouth, Bellerophon,
When, struck with holy awe,
Even at thy side in light arrayed,
Serene with placid power displayed,
The chaste Athenian Jove-born maid
Thy wondering vision saw;
And in her hand—O strangest sight!—
A wingèd steed she led,
That bent the knee before the knight