Swift should her hero come, like lightning's blue!。，Benevolent as Earth to feed her own.
Achaians.。，A charge her garden's labyrinths scarce confute,
He undone in his rays of glory spent。，Beneath them throbs an urgent well,
XIII。，She counts not loss a word of any weight;
See a black adversary's ghost prevail;。，The music Beauty from it draws.
Servant here to thy mandates, heed thee among our Achaians,。，
And deftest hand was he from foreign wars,。，Reflexively, the central force belie,
With paying blows, the yokel strained his yoke.。，That is as heavenly light to hearing, heard
Still let the rumour spread, and terror screens。，Her lord, if to her rigid laws he bows;
These miserably disinclined,。，Inconscient, insensitive, she reigns
While hunger after Beauty spurs.。，These, the irreverent of Life's design,
Others parade where love has bled,。，Creative; in his edifice has joy.
。，She conscient, she sensitive, in him;
And pray they under skies less overcast,。，Like flower-bell to honey-bee:
Came Reverence from the Huntress on her heights?。，XXV
，XIX。，She, tenderness, is pitiless to them