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M E forte credas interitura, quae

Longe fonantem natus ad Aufidum
Non ante vulgatas per artes

Verba loquor socianda chordis ;
Non, si priores Maeonius tenet
Sedes Homerus, Pindaricae latent
Ceacque, et Alcaei minaces

Stefichorique graves Camenae : Nec, fi quid olim lusit Anacreon, Delevit aetas : spirat adhuc amor, Vivuntque commissi calores

Aeoliae fidibus puellae.

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Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona
Multi; fed omnes illacrymabiles.
Urguentur ignotique langa

Nocte, carent quia vate facro.

Part of the NINTH ODE


I EST you should think that verse shall die, U W hich sounds the Silver Thames along, Taught, on the wings of Truth to fly

Above the reach of vulgar song; Tho' daring Milton fits sublime,

In Spencer native Muses play ; Nor yet shall Waller yield to time,

Nor pensive Cowley's moral lay ----

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Sages and Chiefs long since had birth

Ere Cæsar was, or Newton nam'd; These rais'd new Empires o'er the Earth,

And Those, new Heav'ns and Systems framn’d. Vain was the Chief's, the Sage's pride!

They had no Poet, and they died.
In vain they schem'd, in vain they bled!
They had no Poet, and are dead.



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