I wish to tune my quivering lyre, [i]
To deeds of fame, and notes of fire;
To echo, from its rising swell,
How heroes fought and nations fell,
When Atreus' sons advanc'd to war,
Or Tyrian Cadmus rov'd afar;
But still, to martial strains unknown,
My lyre recurs to Love alone.
Fir'd with the hope of future fame, [ii]
I seek some nobler Hero's name;
The dying chords are strung anew,
To war, to war, my harp is due:
With glowing strings, the Epic strain
To Jove's great son I raise again;
Alcides and his glorious deeds,
Beneath whose arm the Hydra bleeds;
All, all in vain; my wayward lyre
Wakes silver notes of soft Desire.
Adieu, ye Chiefs renown'd in arms!
Adieu the clang of War's alarms! [iii]
To other deeds my soul is strung,
And sweeter notes shall now be sung;
My harp shall all its powers reveal,
To tell the tale my heart must feel;
Love, Love alone, my lyre shall claim,
In songs of bliss and sighs of flame.
[Footnote 1: The motto does not appear in 'Hours of Idleness' or
'Poems O. and T.']
[Footnote i: 'I sought to tune'----.--['MS. Newstead'.]]
[Footnote ii:
'The chords resumed a second strain,
To Jove's great son I strike again.
Alcides and his glorious deeds,
Beneath whose arm the Hydra bleeds'.
['MS. Newstead'.]]
[Footnote iii:
'The Trumpet's blast with these accords
To sound the clash of hostile swords--
Be mine the softer, sweeter care
To soothe the young and virgin Fair'.
['MS. Newstead'.]]