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Perhaps some needful service of the State, Drew Titus from the depth of studious bowers, And doomed him to contend in faithless courts, Where gold determines between right and wrong. Yet did at length his loyalty of heart And his pure native genius lead him back To wait upon the bright and gracious Muses Whom he had early loved. And not in vain Such course he held! Bologna's learned schools Were gladdened by the Sage's voice, and hung With fondness on those sweet Nestorian strains. * There pleasure crowned his days; and all his thoughts A roseate fragrance breathed.-O human life, That never art secure from dolorous change! Behold a high injunction suddenly To Arno's side conducts him, and he charmed A Tuscan audience: but full soon was called To the perpetual silence of the grave. Mourn, Italy, the loss of him who stood" A Champion steadfast and invincible, To quell the rage of literary War!
* Ivi vivea giocondo e i suoi pensieri
Erano tutti rose.
O Thou who movest onward with a mind
Twill be no fruitless moment. I was born
Theke never breathed a man who when his life