XXI. TO APOLLO

(ll. 1-4) Phoebus, of you even the swan sings with clear voice to the beating of his wings, as he alights upon the bank by the eddying river Peneus; and of you the sweet-tongued minstrel, holding his high-pitched lyre, always sings both first and last.

(l. 5) And so hail to you, lord! I seek your favour with my song.