html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os } Phœbus! Euen the Swann from forth her wings,
(Jumping her proyning-banck) thee sweetly sings,
By bright Peneus, whirle-pit-making-streames.
Thee, that thy Lute; mak'st sound so to thy Beames.
Thee, first and last, the sweete-voic't singer, still
Sings; for thy songs-all-songs-transcending skill.
Thy Pleasure then; shall my song still supply:
And so salutes thee, King of Poësie.