Canto XII

The scenes of war had lost their bloom and vigour ;
The Bolognese were asking tor supplies ;
The Pope gave nothing but, to make a figure,
Indulgences for altars, which was wise ;
But Ezzelin opposed his schemes with vigour,
And poured in succours to his enemies ;
Then ceased he to be deaf to exhortation,
And to his nuncio wrote to seek accommodation.

As legate, he dispatched the Cardinal
Messer Ottaviano, Ubaldine ;
A man of learning, and of wit, withal,
An equal friend to Guelph and Ghibelline ;
To him the sword, and ensign pastoral
He gave, that he with thunderings divine,
And with th' Italian armies, might oppose
All enemies to peace, as mortal toes.

The legate soon departed ; numerous, gay,
And beautiful his retinue appeared ;
Meantime the truce being done, without delay
The fighting was resumed, the clangor heard ;
The warriors dauntless urged their desperate way
To gain the bridge, and fame to life preferred ;
So furiously they fought both night and day,
The flower of them was nearly swept away.

Of all the days St. Matthew's was the day,
The highest honoured by the powers at war ;
For so tremendous was the smoking fray,
The river ran with blood. Perinto there
And Periteo, with prodigious sway,
Brandished their swords; and with an equal share
Of wonderous strength, upon the other side,
Renoppia flung her darts, and well her skill applied.

A neighbouring tower, in arms she had ascended,
The steeple of St. Ambrose was the place ;
And she took with her, to be well attended,
Celind and Semidea, full of grace ;
The fatal bow The haughty woman bended,
But would not wound the infamous and base ;
The life of none but brave men she attempted,
And full five times her rattling quiver emptied.

Paride Grassi, Signor Bianchini,
Fell on the bridge, and Alfeo Erculani
Upon the river, Alfier Lambertini,
Pompeo Marsigli, Cosmo Isolani,
Lapo Bianchetti, Romulo Angelini,
Gabrio Caprar, and Barnaba Lignani,
Were all transfixed, and with them two cognati,
Fulgrio Cosp, and Lambertuccio Grati.

At Petron Sampier, who before the bridge
Made way for the Crocettans, to her car
Celinda drew her bow-string, like a wedge
The dart went through his forehead ; fighting near
Was Semidea ; she pierced the gullet's edge
Of Beccatelli, who with sword or spear
Had Borghi and Colombo death-ward .sped ;
And plumped him in the stream, a lump of lead.

Preti Girolamo was also wounded
A poet worthy of immortal praise ;
At court some fifteen years, where pomp abounded,
But at a time when flowers (what glorious days)
Never smelled sweet; a ruff his neck surrounded,
His dress all silk, adorned in different ways
With party coloured gold, — thence, at first view,
Renoppia marked the fop, and instant twanged her yew.

Between the neck and mil-band went the dait,
And slightly passed beneath the tender skin ;
He felt his cheek grow pale, and faint his heart,
For he imagined it was deeper in ;
A mortal blow ; so sensible the part,
His anxious mind, his agitated mien,
Had sunk his courage, and instead of taking
Revenge, he ran to dress his wound still aching.

However, he excused himself, and said,
"Tis wrong to fight with ladies!" to the people ;
"Much more against so beautiful a maid,
"Who takes her lofty station on a steeple."
Meantime by Semidea in death was laid
Upon the bridge's verge old Andrea Cepil,
Who had that very morning killed a friar ;
The bolt of heaven is sudden in its ire.

And if the deepening night had not concealed
The golden sun with his o'ershadow ing wing,
Amazing deeds had signalized the field,
That would have roused the first of bards to sing;
Tasso had not his epic tale revealed ;
And Bracciolino's Ligno Santo-ing,
Marino's sweet Adonis, and the chanting
Of Ariost's Orlando, had been wanting.

Meanwhile the legate entered Genoa's gates ;
The nuncio from Bologna to him wrote
That he would meet him it pleased the fates)
Before the walls of Modena he sought ;
But he who knew the politics of states,
Perfectly knew that majesty is nought,
Unarmed with power, and therefore, to be strong,
Recruited soldiers as he went along.

The Pope already with the Genoese
To borrow half a million had agreed,
So that he had the means with greatest ease
To gather all the troops the case might need ;
But running here and there, he by degrees
Strayed from the usual route o'er vale and mead,
Till with a large and honourable force
He in Solera's pastures stopped his course.

Fatigued with travel, weary with the heat,
Beneath a shade he sits him down to rest ;
And there the nuncio he expects to meet,
For he to him despatches had addrest ;
Meantime his servants feel disposed to eat,
And various victuals on the banks are dressed ;
And there he takes his spurs off on the green,
And midst his friends enjoys the banquet-scene.

The banquet done he, thoughtful, sat and played
With fennel stalks, till a backgammon-board
And cards were formally before him laid ;
Of cash he took a handful from his hoard ;
And Pietro Bardi, and del Nero made
The party — each for what they could afford ;
And the Count Elc, and Monsignor Bandino,
Played in a different corner at cassino.

One hour and half he gambled — then in haste
He called his prelates on a short excursion ;
And soon the jumping grasshoppers they chased,
Amidst the herbs and grass for their diversion :
Thus passed the hours, according to their taste,
Waiting the coming of the nuncio's person ;
When lo ! a troop of men and beasts, in view,
Disturbed that pleasing sport, so beautiful and new.

These were a number of ambassadors
From Modena dispatched, him to invite ;
With coaches, mules, and carts, and sundry stores,
A nd men of rank to do the honours right ;
Though Innocent had long despised their powers,
And given them no occasion of delight;
The Modenese being at that holy court
Excluded from all posts, even of the meanest sort.

'Twas not that any could be charged with treason/"
In serving the Eternal City, no;
But 'twas because they had through every season
Kept faith with Caesar, then the church's foe;
And that which might afford sufficient reason
To honour them, whence recompense should flow,
For constancy and valour, served to inflame
The heart with sharpest hatred of their name.

Now to the legate speedful they had brought,
Refreshments both for relish and support ;
Of Trebbian rich a quarter of a botte,
Six cannisters of puddings, long and short;
A measure, full a chaldron, they had got
Of savoury wine cakes, never seen at court ;
And to excite the stomach's greedy passages,
Forty-five pounds of most delicious sausages.

The legate thanks them, and the stores dividing
Among his train, accepts the invitation ;
And now in leather boots and great coat riding,
The nuncio comes, and gives full information
Touching their views, for every point providing ;
And now into the city the legation
Proceeds ; the city pays it every honour
To show the Pope had been too hard upon her.

The truce renewed — the council all proceeded
Beyond the city, even the ladies went
A mile towards the river, though not needed,
To pay the legate special compliment ;
To him at once the castle was conceded,
Hung with red damask, rich in ornament ;
Prizes were run for, shows amused The sight,
And there was masking, morning, noon, and night.

To the great hall, upon the following day,
The nuncio calls the senate ; there they throng,
And there with pomp the legate takes his way,
Blessing the people as he goes along ;
Under a canopy, with gold-work gay,
His chair is placed, well raised, the crowd among :
And then begins with grave, reproachful speeches,
Addressed to those old men with large loose breeches.

"The pope, the sovereign of the universe,
"And of the flock of pastor and sire,
"Has seen, 'midst cares which through his bosom pierce,
"From trifling spark, arise this mighty fire ;
"And for the common good, to strife averse,
"Inspired by heavenly love, and fond desire,
"Sends to you peace, refuse ye what is given ?
"lie then denounces war in earth and heaven.

"What now I say, I'd say it to your foes ;
"For a just father is the pope to all !
"And though your late and present conduct shows
"That you, like rebels, wish the church's fall !
"And with the impious Frederic friendly close,
"And join him with your squadrons at his call ;
"He does not wish that any act, or crime,
"Should be remembered at the present time.

"He sends me to negociate a peace,
"On fair conditions ; and I've his commands
"Within a month his legions to increase,
"And form ten thousand cavalry, in bands,
"To punish those who, influenced by caprice,
"Or hate, dispute the ground on which he stands ;
"On Genoa I have drafts, I have them here !
"And thirty companies are also near.

"The king of France has promised to provide
"Twelve thousand foot, within a month or two;
"So what more aid can we require beside ?
"The Bolognese are just as bad as you,
"In carrying on this war ; though sanctified,
"God's money might be better spent 'tis true ;
"Better, the pope well knows than building towers
"To his great name, mere smoke, to minds like ours!"

Upon the bench the senior of that day,
Was Jacopo Mirandola, an old
And open toe to Rome's despotic sway,
Ferocious, prompt, and turbulent, and bold;
This statesman, never dubious what to say,
The Roman legate his opinion told,
And, in his high authority arrayed,
Thus, from the chair he sat on, sharply said :

"The Pope is Pope, and we are wretches, born
"Solely to sutler hardship, pain, disgrace ;
"Therefore, by him we of our rights are shorn,
"And only equal to the Jewish race ;
"If us of coldness you suspect, and scorn,
"Your want of heart has brought us to this case ;
"But if of too much warmth — must I declare if?
"Tis that your frozen feelings cannot bear it.

"Among God's people we're alone debarred
"The enjoyment of the goods by others left ;
"And even of hope, indulgence, or reward,
"In the paternal heritage, bereft ;
"Men from the poles receive from you regard,
"And courteous conduct, freely as a gift ;
"Whilst we, from common kindliness exempt,
"Are treated with ineffable contempt.

"If shepherds turn to wolves, lambs will become
"Wild dogs, for outrages are sure the worst,
"Inflicted by the very person whom
"We lona: have loved, and would love on, as erst ;
"Frederic conserves our liberties, not Rome,
"And hence our means are his, his interest first.
"He treats us with kind heart and equal laws,
"And we are faithful to his sacred cause.

"Nor ought less fervent praise be given to us,
"For keeping pure our ancient liberty ;
"Than unto others for their tyrannous
"Invasions and deceptions ; this, say I,
"To him whom it concerns ; I speak not thus
"To you, for if his holy majesty,
"With zeal paternal for a peace has striven,
"We ought to lift our thankful hands to heaven.

"And yet there is no proof of this intent,
'In sending that same corps of Perugines ;
"And this Monsignor, in his element,
"Like Jove, keeps thundering at the Ghibellines;
"Therefore, if love and charity be meant,
"If God's own holy word his heart inclines,
"Let the Pope till the country round with grace,
"And only tight against the pagan race.

"For we are all obedience, and revere
"His holy thoughts ; — whatever he desires
"We grant, and in your judgment without fear
"Place all that fullest confidence requires ;
"Only preserve our honour, fresh and clear,
"Do as you please ; as sons of worthy sires,
"We must not seem to be among mankind,
"As bastard-born — to scorn and jeers consigned.

"For if the time arrives, when we again
"Shall want the arms you make us now lay down ;
f If ever you call for them to maintain
"Your rights in African, or Syrian town ;
"They'll follow you across the angry main,
"They'll follow you through deserts parched and brown;
"They will be first to penetrate the straits
"Which lead to honour, and where glory waits."

Here ceased Mirandola, and then uprose
The senate roaring out, " peace, peace !" To them
The pastor said discreetly : " Peace, repose,
"Peace be it, if it please you, peace (a-hem ;)
"Your city must be worthy of what flows
"From peace, that treasure, richer than a gem
"Nor can the Germans interrupt its way,
"For they are in confusion and dismay.

"It was against the Germans and not you
"The pope sent forth the Perugines, indeed !
"For if you'd not been aided by that crew,
"So many men had not been doomed to bleed ;
"Now God upon the wound a healing dew
"Has poured, a just reward he has decreed ;
"Be more devout, less arrogant in feeling,
"And keep the waggon-road of honest dealing."

Ending his speech, he rises on his feet,
Saluting all the knights and ladies gay ;
Then calls the elders, and in converse sweet,
Communicates what he has got to say ;
Two days the Modenese the legate greet
With joust and feast, and music, song, and play ;
Then goes he to Bologna by appointment.
To give the itch a crowning rub of ointment.

The city gave him thirty shields ; a chest
Of handsome masks ; two loads of Garvel pears ;
And fifty fine spongata-cakes, the best;
And sausages a hundred, packed in squares;
Of Carpi mustard, exquisite to taste.
They nobly gave him two capacious jars ;
Two cypress branches, twisted like a scroll ;
And thirty pounds of truffles crowned the whole.

He was escorted by a thousand horse,
From out the city to the neighbouring banks ;
Where he descried the other martial force,
The bray of trumpets echoing through the ranks ;
The bridge he gained, and passed the river's course ;
The Bolognese with loud acclaim, and thanks,
Received him, and as evening gloomed the sky
He reached the city, full of dignity.

The following day, as an amusing sight,
They showed him all the spoils for which they'd fought ;
Prisoners, and shields, and standards — armour bright,
And vauntingly the king was also brought;
Then did the regiment, with proud delight,
Fling from the window a boiled, pig — and vote
That every year the same thing should be done,
To mark the day the victory was won.

The legate then made' known his embassy,
In public council; but he was not heard
With that attention he desired to be;
At the commencement they had all inferred,
That this sharp contest could not possibly
Close, each having equal honour. In a word,
They wanted back the Bucket, any how ;
And giving up the king would never do.

The legate then suggests the middle course, —
That, keeping still the king a prisoner,
They should give up all other claims worse)
To the Pope's arbitration. All demur,
Deaf to persuasion, deaf to reason's force,
Nor can he one from his opinion stir.
"Then," said he, as he wrathfully arose,
"Our friends are more mistrustful than our foes.

"Now you shall see the dreadful consequence
"Of scorning Papal power!" This briefly said,
Not only did he quit with confidence,
That splendid hall, which courtly pomp displayed,
But from Bologna moved his court, and thence
Towards Finale, rapid progress made ;
And in his anger told Paulucci then
To follow fast to Bonden with his men,

Where he would find, upon the coming day,
Aldobrandino's son, Azzo of Est ;
And there, in his hereditary sway,
His Ferrarese domains to be replaced ;
The legate got the brief upon his way,
Sent by the Pope, and now, with breathless haste,
He orders his battalions to be joined
By all the cavalry he'd left behind.

Now Salinguerra, seeing danger lour,
(Quickly the bridge abandoned ; and, returning
Fast to Ferrara, found, in evil hour,
The city nearly taken, but still burning
Was the Petronian's anger, none would cower,
All obstinate alike — obedience spurning,
Thinking it but a trifle to have lost
Both squadrons fighting bravely at their post.

The Modenese, upon the other side,
Adroitly by manoeuvres well concealed,
From the Lucchese a loan had ratified ;
And troops embodied, veterans in the field ;
And being well with Paduans supplied,
Whose sly approach no sound of trump revealed,
They showed themselves unequal for defence,
To give their rash opponents confidence.

Meantime they are in secret preparation,
For an assault by night ; bridges they raise,
And fiery arrows frame for the occasion,
And dire combustibles, in different ways
Prepared, for various sorts of conflagration !
On land, and such as in the water blaze ;
Scythes formed like saws, machinery Satanic,
Enough to put an empire in a panic.

Three days within the trenches, working hard,
The Paduans and Modenese remained;
And on the fourth, with arrogant regard,
Came from the Bolognese, and striding, gained
The bridge, as if that arduous pass to guard,
By coat of iron — harness well sustained,
A monstrous man, — of most enormous size,
Named Sprangon, fury reddening in his eyes.

He had a wooden morion on his head,
Grated with iron bars, and at his side
A German sword ; and ponderous as lead ;
A bill-hook in his hand; with scoffing pride,
He turned towards his enemies, and said,
"O Pavans! 'ye with paunches tense and wide,
"When will ye quit your dens, to feel my gripe !
"Huge, shapeless masses of Trevisan tripe !

"Among so many poltroons, what ! not one
"With courage to come out, and bold enough
"Me to confront, until the combat done,
"One or the other comes victorious off!"
Boastful the towering giant spake, but none
Answered the pompous challenge with rebuff:
Short time elapsed, when on his ruin bent,
Out sprang a warrior from Antenor's tent.

Limezio or Lemzoné he was named,
Short, fat, and thick, old fashioned in his look ;
A hood above his helmet, and there flamed
In his right hand a most terrific hook ;
And in his left a shield, of paper framed,
And lined with figs, which terribly he shook :
In short, with coat and breeches sewed together,
He seemed a mountebank of primest feather.

Sprangone laughed, on seeing him so fine
Upon the bridge, and joked him as a show;
Calling him Rodomonte's Aguzzine,
Dirt of Orlando, harbinger of woe ;
Lemzone said, with a sarcastic whine,
"Odzookers, man! what would'st thou say or do,
"Base, ugly pig, if I should make thee quiver,
"And send thee to the bottom of the river?"

Sprangon at these harsh words upraised his bill,
The boaster's eyes intending to divide ;
Lemzon opposed his paper targe with skill,
In which the weapon stuck, then he aside
Let go the targe, and, vengeance to fulfil,
Clinched with his hook the helm, where he had spied
The iron bars, and dragged him with such strength,
That he was tumbled on the bridge at length.

Scarce had Sprangone's bottom touched the ground,
When he bounced up again, and brandished high
His bill, the targe upon it whirling round,
And struck Lemzoné on the back and thigh ;
Lemzone raised his hook, and quickly found
That the blow fell not, where he fixed his eye ;
For aiming at the visor, down it glided,
And in a trice the breeches band divided.

Upon his hands and knees Lemzone fell,
And with him dragged the breeches, which he caught,
By that strong hook, enough the foe to quell,
Such seemed at least the boasting warrior's thought ;
But by the blow the tattered targe was well
Cleared from the bill, which other feelings brought :
And hence Lemzone fearful of a wound,
Jumped in an instant fiercely from the ground.

Now Sprangon, who his legs was extricating,
Is tumbled from the bridge and pushed below ;
But as he falls, his vigour concentrating,
He grasps, and drags with him his cruel foe ;
Entangling limb with limb, but separating
As down into the gulph they struggling go;
At once the waves inclose them ; loud the shores
Re-echo, as the whelming torrent roars.

Lemzoné, less encumbered, and more light,
Blows oft' the foam, and lifts himself to see
How he may steer his arduous course aright,
Then swims towards his friends victoriously ;
But huge Sprangone, cheated of his might,
By tangled breeches and his panoply,
Remains engulphed, for hungry fish a prey
And an obstruction to the water-way.

Ramizo Zabarell, a cavalier
The noblest and the gentlest of that day ;
But most disdainful, haughty, stem, severe,
When roused in desperate war, or duel-fray,
Came armed on horseback, cantering from the rear,
Soon as Sprangone sunk beneath the spray,
And said, " Ye Bolognese ! since ye have given
"One challenge, this is ours, to make us even.

"To-morrow on this bridge I challenge ye
"To single combat ! who accepts my call ?
"With lance and sword to show decisively
"Which has most valour; if ye stand, or fall!"
Here Zabarella ceased, and then with glee
Loud acclamations quickly rose from all ;
The challenge was received by every knight
Of that opposing army with delight.

It was the season when the nights are long,
And dark, inviting us to soft repose ;
When the o'ershadowed moon, unseen among
The sparkling stars of heaven, no light bestows ;
The Bolognese in their conceit so strong,
Proud of the high success which seemed to close
The war, securely slept to wait the hour
Ramizo promised to display his power.

When hark ! " To arms, to arms !" and from the east
Far to the south the war words echoing fly ;
"To arms, to arms!" ring loudly in the west,
The banks reverberate, and resounds the sky ;
The drowsy trembling people from their rest
Start up, confused at that tremendous cry ;
And wander here and there about the fields,
Seeking in darkness, standards, arms, and shields.

The Modenese had for a while been quiet,
Resolving to surprise the enemy ;
From various points they now begin to try it,
Surrounding all, that not a man may fly ;
To them it seemed, and no one could deny it,
That they'd grown heedless since their victory;
And seizing the right time they gladly found
The foe in sleep and fancied safety drowned.

The captains emulous rushed on al ponte,
Where danger threatened most, and there was seen
The furious cavalier, Eurimedonte,
Who with his horse shut up the passage clean ;
With menacing and formidable front, he
Brandished his beaming sword, both hands between ;
And knights and horses from the bank pell-mell
Into the stream, dead and dismembered, fell.

Petronio Casal's face was cut in two,
Right 'twixt the eyes, and stretching to the chest ;
Gian Pietro Magnan, he indignant slew,
His hand was cut off, whilst the sword he pressed,
And his side opened, whence disdainful Hew
The soul, for nothing could its flight arrest ;
From the neck severed to the pectoral bone
Was Ridolf Paleotti, and o'erthrown.

But of the common class he killed a heap,
Which rose above the waters, and passed on;
The Paduans follow in a phalanx deep,
And leave the bridge where such exploits were done ;
Then to the trenches they together sweep,
And now the work of ruin has begun.
The foe is reinforced, each nerve they strain,
Against the fierce assault, but all in vain ;

For from the east in Hank, the valiant knight
Gherardo conies, and Manfred from the west ;
Death in their hands, and clothed with dreadful might
Reddening the sand with blood — with undepressed
Courage their squadrons hurry to the fight,
Upon the other banks, in silent quest
Of the incautious Bolognese ; and, though
In darkness wrapt, they now attack the foe.

At once they in a hundred places fire
Their wooden bulwarks, and now upward rolls
The living flame in many a crackling spire ;
The enemy shrink with terror in their souls ;
The Modenese rush on with ardour dire,
Their whelming valour every check controls ;
The Paduans, too, unheard-of feats display,
And vanquish all embattled in their way.

Brave Varisoné, brother of Nantchiero,
After called Barisone, rather pat,
Killed Urban at a stroke, and Berlinghiero
Dal Gesso, and Manganon Galerat :
He'd with him Franco, and the fierce Alviero,
And Don Stefano Rossi, who had that
Cognomen, having on that arduous day
Been red with blood, and fit for other fray.

Round the Bolognian Pretor still remained
All the prime warriors ; he despairing viewed
The horrid carnage which the field distained.
And, without power to check the streaming blood.
Passed to the north ; whilst they, by fear constrained.
Their course to Casteltranco's towers pursued.
And there took shelter ; there assembled all
The scattered troops within the abandoned wail.

The Fanians and Cesenians, and the flower
Of proud Milan, were numbered with the slain ;
Of Ravennese and Forlivese no more
Than one in five saw Castelfranc again :
The waggon taken, full of slippery gore.
And of the ghastly dead was every plain ;
The soldiers' quarters, and the plunder lay.
To rapine and devouring flames a prey.

Back to the bridge no Modenese returned.
But all to Castelfranco bent their way ;
And soon the enemy saw, surprised, concerned,
Their tents not far off pitched in full array ;
Where the broad margins may be still discerned,
The noble trench of that immortal day ;
These mark the path, and must be noted ever.
Between the famous castle and the river.

Next day the Bolognese a trench erected
Beyond the walls, and, issuing from the gate.
No means to seem magnanimous neglected.
Armed, well equipped, and in a fighting state ;
But they remained till evening thus collected,
To show they would not budge a step, though late
Meanwhile with secret speed the Reggiment
A courier to the cardinal had sent,

Asking forgiveness for their folly, praying
For aid and counsel, pledging free consent
To any terms, if he, their fears allaying.
From peril so extreme and imminent.
Would save them ; he, no sign of joy betraying
To see their humbled pride, their anger spent.
Appeared to grieve, but, pleased that they had got a
Defeat, returned to the city of the Potta.

Assembled there in senate : " Friends," he said,
"To you I come again, in faith the same
"As when I left you lately, but afraid
"That your great victories may allow no claim
"In me for mercy ; you, report had made
"Foes of the church, but peaceful is your aim,
"And our old friends, grown haughty, yet forlorn,
"Have changed their faith, and left us as in scorn.

"Now God has punished their o'erbearing- pride";
"But as I've smoothed the path to victory
"And taken half Perugia — and beside
"Drawn Salinguerra from the camp ; to mc
"Grant the decision not before denied.
"Again I ask it, vowing faithfully
"Your honour shall continue pure and fair,
"For so I promise; so by heaven, I swear."

Mirandola then rose, and thus rejoined ; —
"Signor ! my country neither cedes to power
"From opposition, nor forgets the kind
"Favours of Fortune in her prosperous hour ;
"The arbitration we before resigned
"Is now confirmed — we only trust that your
"Greatness of soul, in using it, may be
"Equal to that which sets the enemy free."

The legate thanked the .senators, and went
From Modena that day, and peace was made
Between the parties, to their own content.
In virtue of the contract he conveyed ;
And then o'erjoyed he published the event
Upon the following day with great parade ;
At Modena the Bucket still remained.
The Bolognese Sardinia's king retained.

In short, the other prisoners were set tree,
j\nd here and there full liberty enjoyed,
And every region, state, and boundary,
Remained the same as formerly applied ;
So ended this great war of chivalry,
And on All Saints' day, doubly sanctified.
Each, little anxious ever more to roam.
Joyful returned to eat his goose at home.

Good people all ! who with a merry face
Have been attentive to my wandering song.
This is a history true, replete with grace :
But ah ! to me no tuneful notes belong ;
Hov/ different had it been with power to trace
'Ihe Muses' haunts ; had they inspired my tongue !
But since my aim was good, this credit give ;
And he who reads it happy may he live.