Or harness to our prams and punts
The puissant radiobe;
Me rather it delights to roam
Across the salt Ægean foam
With old Odysseus, far from home,
And bless the name of Loeb.
To soar with Plato to the heights;
To find in Plutarch's kings and knights
The human touch that more delights
Than crown or regal robe;