Prometheus

Prometheus caught a heav’nly ray

To animate his Man of Clay

The sacred light of [wis]dom stole

And [p]our’d it o’er [th’]awakning [Soul];

For this condemn’d by angry Jove,

Because he [misc’d] no [Fire] from Love.

But when the Monarch saw the Light

That sparkled in your [virtues bright]

To you in bounteous Dole he [granted].

The compound Flame Prometheus wanted,

And he who owns this Flame from you

Loves ardently and wisely too__