NYMPHS of the rain, Let us visit again The city by Pallas beloved, the home, -- The populous home of choicest delights, Where for the appointed secret rites From year to year the mystic dome Duly unfolds its hallowed portals; And gifts are there to the Powers Divine, And many a statue and lofty shrine, And pomps for all the blessed immortals; Banquet and wreathy sacrifice Hallow each season as it flies; And ever, at the voice of spring, Bacchus his graceful mirth renews; Sweet choirs in strife melodions sing, And all the festive echoes ring With thunders of the Scenic Muse. |