...1 05 Two coursers of ethereal race, With necks in thunder clothed, and long-resounding pace. Epode Hark, his hands the lyre explore! Bright-eyed Fancy hovering o'er Scatters from her pictured urn 1 1 0 Thoughts that breathe, and words that bum. But ah! 'tis heard no more 0 Lyre divine!...