When Minerva, to give pleasure To Prometheus, her well-loved one, Brought a brimming bowl of nectar From the glorious realms of heaven As a blessing for his creatures, And to pour into their bosoms...
Do I see a contest yonder? See I miracles or pastimes? Beauteous urchins, five in number, 'Gainst five sisters fair contending, Measured is the time they're beating At a bright enchantress' bidding....
Amor, not the child, the youthful lover of Psyche, Look'd round Olympus one day, boldly, to triumph inured; There he espied a goddess, the fairest amongst the immortals,...