Or home of the sirens, with poetry let him beguile

The years of young manhood, and at the Maeonian spring

His fortunate soul drink its fill: Then, when later, the lore

Of Socrates' school he has mastered, the reins let him fling,

And brandish the weapons that mighty Demosthenes bore.

Then, steeped in the culture and music of Greece, let his taste

Be ripened and mellowed by all the great writers of Rome.

At first, let him haunt not the courts; let his pages be graced

By ringing and rhythmic effusions composed in his home

Next, banquets and wars be his theme, sung in soul-stirring chant,

In eloquent words such as undaunted Cicero chose.

Come! Gird up thy soul! Inspiration will then force a vent

And rush in a flood from a heart that is loved by the muse!"




CHAPTER THE SIXTH.