Not solely from the summer's sultry heat
Seek I in shady glades a cool retreat,
And sip up dew, and utter from the pine
Music unbought, the traveller's joy and mine;
But on the shining point of Pallas' spear
I perch a warlike grasshopper; for dear
As I to Muses, is to me the maid
Whose skill inventive first the flute essayed.
