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The son of Saturn gave
The nod with his dark brows. The ambrosial curls
Upon the Sovereign read more
The son of Saturn gave
The nod with his dark brows. The ambrosial curls
Upon the Sovereign One's immortal head
Were shaken, and with them the mighty mount,
Olympus trembled.
Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.
Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.
I, Phoebus, sang those songs that gained so much renown
I, Phoebus, sang them; Homer only wrote them down.
I, Phoebus, sang those songs that gained so much renown
I, Phoebus, sang them; Homer only wrote them down.
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town,
read more
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town,
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the yellow god forever gazes down.
Shakes his ambroisal curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.
Shakes his ambroisal curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.
The Graces, three erewhile, are three no more;
A fourth is come with perfume sprinkled o'er.
'Tis read more
The Graces, three erewhile, are three no more;
A fourth is come with perfume sprinkled o'er.
'Tis Berenice blest and fair; were she
Away the Graces would no Graces be.
Two goddesses now must Cyprus adore;
The Muses are ten, and the Graces are four;
Stella's wit read more
Two goddesses now must Cyprus adore;
The Muses are ten, and the Graces are four;
Stella's wit is so charming, so sweet her fair face,
She shines a new Venus, a Muse, and a Grace.
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
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With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.
Say, Bacchus, why so placid? What can there be
In commune held by Pallas and by thee?
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Say, Bacchus, why so placid? What can there be
In commune held by Pallas and by thee?
Her pleasure is in darts and battles; thine
In joyous feasts and draughts of rosy wine.