For creeping toil to climb the hard ascent
Of high Parnassus. Nature's kindling breath
Must fire the chosen genius; nature's hand
Must string his nerves, and imp his eagle-wings
Exulting o'er the painful steep to soar40
High as the summit; there to breathe at large
Æthereal air; with bards and sages old,
Immortal sons of praise. These flatt'ring scenes
To this neglected labour court my song;
Yet not unconscious[O 1] what a doubtful task45
To paint the finest features of the mind,
And to most subtile and mysterious things
Give colour, strength, and motion. But the love
Of nature and the muses bids explore,
Thro' secret paths erewhile untrod by man,50
The fair poetic region, to detect
Untasted springs, to drink inspiring draughts;
And shade my temples with unfading flow'rs
Cull'd from the laureate vale's profound recess,
Where never poet gain'd a wreath before.55
- ↑ Yet not unconscious.] Lucret. l. 2 v. 921.
Nec me animi fallit quam sint obscura, sed acri
percussit thyrso laudis spes magna meum cor,
Et simul incussit suavem mi in pectus amorem
Musarum; quo nunc instinctus mente vigenti
Avia Picridum peragro loca, nullius ante
Trita solo: juvat integros accedere fonteis,
Atque baurire: juvatque novos discerpere flores;
Insignem meo capiti petere inde coronam,
Unde prius nulli velarint tempora Musæ.
