O golden Lyre, who art Phoebus’ treasure + 

Which he shares with the dusk-haired Song-queens aye, + 

The light feet hear thee beating the measure + 

As the revellers marshal their dance-array. + 

O Lyre, thy signals the singers obey + 

When in preludes of choral song low-dreaming + 

O’er thy strings quick-throbbing the harmonies glide. + 

Thou quenchest the thunderbolt’s self red-gleaming + 

Javelined with flame-jets aye outstreaming. + 

On the sceptre of Zeus the slumber-tide + 

O’er his eagle ripples, on either side + 