Made vocal warbled forth harmonious sound—
Jove snatch'd from earth the care-dispelling Lyre—
The Gods themselves sweet melody admire.
Before the Labouring Man its place in heaven—
To smooth toil's rugged brow sweet music given. 280

⁠Next soars with wings expanding far and wide
Around the pole in majesty to glide
Jove's mottled Swan. Th’ adulterous bird, they say,
That lent his form fair Leda to betray.
His curving neck around the Lyre he bends—
To distant sky his diamond head extends—
Dark and obscure in parts—in others bright
Studded his wings with numerous gems of light.
Like to a hovering bird his pinions rest,
While floating tranquilly he seeks the west.
Reaches one foot to Cepheus far aloof—
Touches one wing the flying-horse's hoof. 290

⁠About this steed extends the Fish's band—
Upon his mane Aquarius rests his hand.

⁠Before him Capricorn—of monster kind—
In front a goat—a scaly fish behind.
Down to his realms each year the Sun descends:
Returning thence with strength renew'd ascends.
Hapless the mariners, who rashly brave,