(ll. 1-4) Phoebus, of you even the swan sings with clear voice to the
beating of his wings, as he alights upon the bank by the eddying river
Peneus; and of you the sweet-tongued minstrel, holding his high-pitched
lyre, always sings both first and last.
(l. 5) And so hail to you, lord! I seek your favour with my song.