As arts expir'd, resistless Dulness rose;
Goths, priests, or Vandals, — all were Learning's foes.
Till Julius first recall'd each exil'd maid,
And Cosmo own'd them in th' Etrurian shade:
Then deeply skill'd in love's engaging theme,
The soft Provencial pass'd to Arno's stream:
With graceful ease the wanton lyre he strung,
Sweet flow'd the lays — but love was all he sung.
The gay description could not fail to move;
For, led by nature, all are friends to love.