Classic Poem

ODE LIV.

Methinks , the pictured bull we see
Is amorous Jove — it must be he!
How fondly blest he seems to bear
That fairest of Phaenician fair!
How proud he breasts the foamy tide,
And spurns the billowy surge aside!
Could any beast of vulgar vein,
Undaunted thus defy the main?
No: he descends from climes above,
He looks the God, he breathes of Jove!