But ne'er didst thou, fair Mount! when Greece was young,

See round thy giant base a brighter choir,[81]

Nor e'er did Delphi, when her Priestess sung

The Pythian hymn with more than mortal fire,

Behold a train more fitting to inspire

The song of love, than Andalusia's maids,

Nurst in the glowing lap of soft Desire:

Ah! that to these were given such peaceful shades

As Greece can still bestow, though Glory fly her glades.