jFi'r. 239 
The world’s great age begins anew, 
The golden years return, 
The earth doth like a snake renew 
Her winter weeds outworn: 
Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam 
Like wrecks of a dissolving dream. 
A brighter Hellas rears its mountains 
From waves serener far; 
A new Peneus rolls its fountains 
Against the morning-star. 
Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep 
Young Cyclads, on a sunnier deep; 
A loftier Argos cleaves the main, 
Fraught with a later prize; 
Another Orpheus sings again, 
And loves, and weeps, and dies. 
A new Ulysses leaves once more 
Calypso for his native shore. 
Oh, write no more the tale of Troy, 
If earth Death’s scroll must be! 
Nor mis with Laian rage the joy 
Which dawns upon the free: 
Although a subtile sphinx renew 
Riddles of death Thebes never knew, 
Another Athens shall arise, 
And to remoter time 
Bequeath, like sunset to the skies, 
The splendour of its prime; 
And leave, if naught so bright may live, 
All earth can take or heaven can give. 
Saturn and Love their long repose 
Shall burst, more wise and good 
