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Grav'd o'er their feats the form of Time was found,
His scythe revers'd, and both his pinions bound.
Within stood Heroes, who through loud alarms
In bloody fields pursued renown in arms.
High on a throne with trophies charg'd, I view'd
The Youth that all things but himself subdued;
His feet on fceptres and tiaras trod,

And his horn'd head bely'd the Libyan God.


There Cæfar, grac'd with both Minervas, fhone; 155
Cæfar, the world's great master, and his own;
Unmov'd, fuperior still in every state,
And fcarce detefted in his Country's fate.

But chief were those, who not for empire fought,
But with their toils their people's fafety bought:
High o'er the reft Epaminondas ftood;
Timoleon, glorious in his brother's blood;
Bold Scipio, faviour of the Roman state;
Great in his triumphs, in retirement great;
And wife Aurelius, in whose well-taught mind
With boundless power unbounded virtue join'd,
His own ftrict judge, and patron of mankind.
Much fuffering heroes next their honours claim,
Those of lefs noify, and lefs guilty fame,
Fair virtue's filent train: fupreme of these
Here ever shines the godlike Socrates:
He whom ungrateful Athens could expell,
At all times juft, but when he fign'd the Shell:
Here his abode the martyr'd Phocion claims,
With Agis, not the last of Spartan names :
Unconquer'd Cato fhews the wound he tore,
And Brutus his ill Genius meets no more.






But in the centre of the hallow'd choir,

Six pompous columns o'er the reft aspire;
Around the fhrine itself of Fame they stand,


Hold the chief honours, and the fane command.
High on the first, the mighty Homer shone;
Eternal adamant compos'd his throne;
Father of verfe! in holy fillets drest,
His filver beard wav'd gently o'er his breast;
Though blind, a boldnefs in his looks appears;
In years he feem'd, but not impair'd by years.
The wars of Troy were round the pillar feen:
Here fierce Tydides wounds the Cyprian Queen;
Here Hector glorious from Patroclus' fall,
Here dragg'd in triumph round the Trojan wall.
Motion and life did every part inspire,

Bold was the work, and prov'd the master's fire;

Ver. 179.


Six pompous columns, &c.]

From the dees many a pillere,

Of metal that fhone not full clere, &c.

Upon a pillere faw I ftonde

That was of lede and iron fine,

Him of the fect Saturnine

The Ebraicke Jofephus the old, &c.

Upon an iron pillere strong,

That painted was all endlong,
With tigers' blood in every place,
The Tholofan that hight Stace,

That bare of Thebes up the name, &c.

Ver. 182.]

Full wonder high on a pilere

Of iron, he the great Omer,

And with him Dares and Titus, &c.

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A ftrong

A ftrong expreffion moft he feem'd t'affect,
And here and there disclos'd a brave neglect:

A golden column next in rank appear'd,
On which a fhrine of pureft gold was rear'd;
Finish'd the whole, and labour'd every part,
With patient touches of unwearied art:
The Mantuan there in fober triumph fate,
Compos'd his posture, and his look fedate;
On Homer ftill he fix'd a reverend eye,
Great without pride, in modest majesty.
In living fculpture on the fides were spread
The Latian wars, and haughty Turnus dead;
Eliza ftretch'd the funeral pyre,


Æneas bending with his aged fire:





Troy flam'd in burning gold, and o'er the throne
ARMS AND THE MAN in golden cyphers shone.
Four swans fuftain a car of filver bright,
With heads advanc'd, and pinions ftretch'd for flight:
Here, like fome furious prophet, Pindar rode,
And feem'd to labour with th' inspiring God.


Ver. 196, &c.]

There faw I ftand on a pillere
That was of tinned iron cleere,
The Latin Poet Virgyle,

That hath bore up of a great while
The fame of pius Æneas:

And next him on a pillere was
Of copper, Venus' clerke Ovide,
That hath fowen wondrous wide
The great God of Love's fame-


Across the harp a careless hand he flings,
And boldly finks into the founding ftrings.
The figur'd games of Greece the column grace,
Neptune and Jove furvey the rapid race.

The youths hang o'er their chariots as they run;'
The fiery fteeds feem ftarting from the ftone;
The champions in distorted postures threat;
And all appear'd irregularly great.

Here happy Horace tun'd th' Aufonian lyre
To fweeter founds, and temper'd Pindar's fire:
Pleas'd with Alcæus' manly rage t' infufe
The fofter spirit of the Sapphic Muse.

The polifh'd pillar different fculptures grace;
A work outlafting monumental brafs.
Here fmiling Loves and Bacchanals appear,
The Julian ftar and great Auguftus here.
The Doves, that round the infant Poet spread
Myrtles and bays hung hovering o'er his head.
Here, in a fhrine that caft a dazzling light,
Sate fix'd in thought the mighty Stagirite;


Tho faw I on a pillere by
Of iron wrought full fternly,
The great Poet Dan Lucan,
That on his fhoulders bore up then
As hye as that I might fee,
The fame of Julius and Pompee.
And next him on a pillere ftode
Of fulphure, like as he were wode,
Dan Claudian, fothe for to tell,
That bare up all the fame of hell, &c.






His facred head a radiant Zodiac crown'd,
And various Animals his fides furround;
His piercing eyes, erect, appear to view
Superior worlds, and look all Nature through.
With equal rays immortal Tully fhone,
The Roman Roftra deck'd the Conful's throne:
Gathering his flowing robe, he feem'd to ftand
In act to speak, and graceful stretch'd his hand.
Behind, Rome's Genius waits with Civic crowns,
And the great Father of his country owns.
Thefe maffy columns in a circle rife,
O'er which a pompous dome invades the skies :
Scarce to the top I ftretch'd my aching fight,
So large it spread, and fwell'd to fuch a height.
Full in the midft proud Fame's imperial feat
With jewels blaz'd, magnificently great;
The vivid emeralds there revive the eye,





The flaming rubies fhew their fanguine dye,
Bright azure rays from lively fapphires stream,
And lucid amber cafts a golden gleam.
With various-colour'd light the pavement shone,
And all on fire appear'd the glowing throne;
The dome's high arch reflects the mingled blaze,
And forms a rainbow of alternate rays.


When on the Goddess first I caft my fight,
Scarce feem'd her stature of a cubit's height;



Ver. 259. Scarce feem'd her ftature, &c.]
Methought that she was so lite,
That the length of a cubite
Was longer than fhe feemed be
But thus foone in a while fhe,

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