But from the wall the Dorian harp take down,
If Piſa, city of renown,
And if the fleet victorious ſteed,
The boaſt of his unrival'd breed, 30
Heart-pleaſing raptures did inſpire,
And warm thy breaſt with ſacred fire,
When late, on Alpheus' crouded ſhore,
Forth-ſpringing quick, each nerve he ſtrain'd,
The warning of the ſpur diſdain'd, 35
And ſwift to victory his maſter bore,
EPODE I.Meaſures 16.
The lov'd Syracuſian, the prince of the courſe,
The king, who delights in the ſpeed of the horſe:
Great his glory, great his fame,
Throughout the land where Lydian Pelops came 40
To plant his men, a choſen race,
A land the ocean does embrace,
Pelops, whom Neptune, ruler of the main,
Was known to love, when into life again,
From the reviving cauldron warm, 45
Clotho produc'd him whole, his ſhoulder-blade,
And its firm brawn, of ſhining ivory made:
But truth, unvarniſh'd, oft neglefted lies,
When