No More Learning

Then Socrates and           were seen;
With them a bard of more than earthly mien,
Whom every muse of Jove's immortal choir
Bless'd with a portion of celestial fire:
From ancient Argos to the Phrygian bound
His never-dying strains were borne around
On inspiration's wing, and hill and dale
Echoed the notes of Ilion's mournful tale.