Or to that isle, with dashing oar
Impelled, shall I my woes deplore,
And on the sacred earth,
Where first the palm and laurel rose,
Memorials of Latona’s throes,
Which to the twins divine gave birth,
Teach the harmonious strain to flow;
With Delos’ nymphs Diana’s praise resound,
Her hair with golden fillet bound,
And never-erring bow?