Chapter 42 No.42

Such was this ditty of Tradition's days,

Which to the dead a lingering fame conveys80

In song, where Fame as yet hath left no sign

Beyond the sound whose charm is half divine;

Which leaves no record to the sceptic eye,

But yields young History all to Harmony;

A boy Achilles, with the Centaur's lyre

In hand, to teach him to surp