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To Virgil Mantua owes immortal fame,
Catullus to Verona gives a name;
Why mayn't, if I attempt some great design,
Peligne be as much oblig'd to mine ?
Why mayn't my muse a glorious toil pursue,
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And as much honour to my country do ?
A people, who, when Rome has been alarm'd
By foreign foes, in her defence have arm'd;
Beneath your golden banners I have fought
So long, your discipline so much have taught,
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'Tis time to give me a discharge, to prove
Some other, some more glorious theme than love
See Bacchus beckons me my voice to raise,
Of lofty deeds to sings, in lofty lays;
To mount my muse on some more generous horse,
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And try her courage in some daring course.
Adieu, my sighing elegies, adieu!
I'll be no more concern'd with love or you;
But what I write my being shall survive,
And in his verse the poet ever live.
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