Canto

 1     3|       earth below,~You see not, Phoebus, in your daily race,~One
 2     3|       Of every lineage on which Phoebus beams,~Where genial stars
 3     3|    seated by the streams,~Where Phoebus to his plaintive lyre lamented~
 4     3|     long protract thy stay;~And Phoebus, many times, to mortal view,~
 5     8|        stood the maid~Alone, as Phoebus, plunged in ocean, sky~And
 6    10|    light,~That he who has them, Phoebus, may at will~Create himself
 7    12|     that our of Ocean's bed~Dan Phoebus drew his dripping steeds,
 8    25|        prayer;~Night fades, and Phoebus raises from the main~His
 9    32|        the expecting maid,~That Phoebus' steeds were foundered one
10    37|      mine,~And Molza, called of Phoebus and the Nine.~ ~ XIII~There'
11    37|   through every age.~ ~ XVII~As Phoebus to his silvery sister shows~
12    42|       about whose honoured brow~Phoebus and Pallas bind a double
13    43|      when he closed his eyes on Phoebus' light,~Numbered one hundred
14    45|         was taken; and his head~Phoebus was now about to hide from
15    45|       other are.~ ~ LXXXII~When Phoebus wholly under water goes,~
16    46| Veronica de Gambara is here,~To Phoebus and the Aonian choir so