Of bright aërial spirits live insphered

In regions mild of calm and serene air,

Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot

Which men call Earth, and, with low-thoughted care,

Confined and pestered in this pinfold here,

Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being,

Unmindful of the crown that Virtue gives,

After this mortal change, to her true servants 10

 10

Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats.

Yet some there be that by due steps aspire

To lay their just hands on that golden key

That opes the palace of eternity.

To such my errand is; and, but for such,

I would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds

With the rank vapours of this sin-worn mould.

But to my task. Neptune, besides the sway

Of every salt flood and each ebbing stream,

Took in by lot, ’twixt high and nether Jove, 20

 20

 Prev. P 15/177 next