EXALT me, Clio, to the skies,
That I may form a starry crown
Beyond what Helicon supplies
In laureate garlands of renown;
To nobler worth be brighter glory giv'n,
And to a heav'nly mind a recompense from heav'n.

Time's wasteful hunger cannot prey
On everlasting high desert,
Nor can Oblivion steal away,
Its record graven on the heart;
Lodge but an arrow, Virtue, on the bow
That binds my lyre, and Death shall be a vanquish'd foe.

In Ocean's blazing flood enshrin'd
Whose vassal tide around her swells,
Albion from other realms disjoin'd
The prowess of the world excells,
She teems with heroes, that to glory rise,
With more than human force in our astonish'd eyes.

To Virtue, driv'n from other lands,
Their bosoms yield a safe retreat;
Her law alone their deed commands;
Her smiles they feel divinely sweet.
Confirm this record, Milton, gen'rous youth!
And by true virtue prove thy virtue's praise a truth.

Zeuxis, all energy and flame,
Set ardent forth in his career;
Urged to his task by Helen's fame
Resounding ever in his ear;
To make his image to her beauty true,
From the collected Fair each sov'reign charm he drew.

The bee with subtlest skill endued
Thus toils to earn her precious juice
From all the flow'ry myriads strew'd
O'er meadow and parterre, profuse;
Confed'rate voices one sweet air compound,
And various chords consent in one harmonious sound.

An artist of celestial aim,
Thy genius, caught by moral grace,
With ardent emulation's flame
The steps of Virtue toil'd to trace,
Observ'd in ev'ry land who brightest shone,
And blending all their best, made perfect good thy own.

From all, in Florence born, or taught
Our country's sweetest accent there,
Whose works, with learned labour wrought,
Immortal honours justly share,
Thou hast such treasure drawn of purest ore,
That not e'en Tuscan bards can boast a richer store.

Babel confus'd, and with her tow'rs
Unfinish'd spreading wide the plain,
Has serv'd but to evince thy pow'rs
With all her tongues confus'd in vain,
Since not alone thy England's purest phrase
But ev'ry polish'd realm thy various speech displays.

The secret things of heav'n and earth
By Nature, too reserv'd, conceal'd
From other minds of highest worth,
To thee are copiously reveal'd;
Thou know'st them clearly, and thy views attain
The utmost bounds prescrib'd to moral Truth's domain.

Let Time no more his wing display,
And boast his ruinous career,
For virtue rescued from his sway
His injuries may cease to fear;
Since all events, that claim remembrance, find
A chronicle exact in thy capacious mind.

Give me, that I may praise thy song,
Thy lyre, by which alone I can,
Which, placing thee the stars among,
Already proves thee more than man;
And Thames shall seem Permessus, while his stream,
Graced with a swan like thee, shall be my fav'rite theme.

I, who beside the Arno strain
To match thy merit with my lays,
Learn, after many an effort vain,
T' admire thee rather than to praise,
And that by mute astonishment alone,
Not by the falt'ring tongue, thy worth may best be shown.