We bards are named the gods'
care;
Nay, some declare that poets are divine;
Yet forward death no holy thing can spare,
'Eound all his dismal arms he dares entwine.
Nay, some declare that poets are divine;
Yet forward death no holy thing can spare,
'Eound all his dismal arms he dares entwine.
Ovid - 1865 - Ovid by Alfred Church
