“Who does not see in drown Deucalion’s name, When Earth her men and Sea had lost her shore,                         Old Noah!” […]                             “Zephyr penitent, Who now, ere Phœbus mounts the firmament, Fondles the flower.” […] “Then, as the full orb poised upon the peak, There came a lovely vision of a maid, Who seemed to step as from a golden car Out of the low-hung moon.” […] “Patriots who perished for their country’s rights Or nobly triumphed in the fields of fight: There holy priest and sacred poets stood, Who sang with all the raptures of a god: Worthies whose lives by useful arts refined; With those who leave a deathless name behind, Friends of the world, and fathers of mankind.” […] He, by just laws, embodied all the train, Who roam’d the hills, and drew them to the plain; There fixed, and Latium called the new abode, Whose friendly shores concealed the latent god.

Who calleth the maiden Morn From her sleep in the woods and the stubble corn?