The growing towers•like exhalations rise,
And the huge columns heave into the skies.

The Eastern front was glorious to behold,
With diamond flaming, and Barbaric gold.
There Ninus shone, who spread th’ Assyrian fame, 95
And the great founder of the Persian name :
There in long robes the royal Magi stand,
Grave Zoroaster waves the circling wand:
The fage Chaldæans rob’d in white appear’d,
And Brachmans, deep in desert woods rever'd.
These stopp'd the moon, and call’d th' unbody'd shades
To midnight banquets in the glimmering glades ;
Made visionary fabrics round them rise,
And airy spectres skim before their eyes ;
Of Talismans and Sigils knew the power,

105 And careful watch'd the Planetary hour. Superior, and alone, Confucius stood, Who taught that useful science, to be good.

But on the South, a long majestic race Of Egypt's Priests the gilded niches grace, Who measur'd earth, describ’d the starry spheres, And trac'd the long records of lunar years. '; High on his car Sefoftris struck my view, Whom scepter'd llaves in golden harness drew: His hands a bow and pointed javelin hold; IIS His giant limbs are arm’d in scales of gold. Between the statues Obelisks were plac'd, And the learn'd walls with Hieroglyphics grac’d.

Of Gothic structure was the Northern side, D'erwrought with ornaments of barbarous pride.



I 20


There huge Colosses rose, with trophies crown?d,
And Runic characters were grav'd around.
There fate Zamolxis with erected eyes,
And Odin here in mimic trances dies.
There on rude iron columns, smear'd with blood, 120
The horrid forms of Scythian heroes stood.
Druids and Bards (their once loud harps unftrung)
And youths that died to be by Poets sung.
These and a thousand more of doubtful fame,
To whom old fables gave a lasting name,
In ranks adorn’d the Temple's outward face;
The wall in lustre and effect like glass,
Which, o'er each object casting various dyes,
Enlarges fome, and others multiplies:
Nor void of emblem was the mystic wall,

135 For thus romantic Fame increases all.

The Temple shakes, the founding gates unfold, Wide vaults appear, and roofs of fretted gold : Rais’d on a thousand pillars wreath'd around With laurel-foliage, and with eagles crown'd: 140 Of bright transparent beryl were the walls, The freezes gold, and gold the capitals : As heaven with stars, the roof with jewels glows, And ever-living lamps depend in rows. Full in the passage of each spacious gate,

145 The fage Historians in white garments wait;

Ver. 132. The wall in luftre, &c.]

It shone lighter than a glass,
And made well more than it was,
As kind of thing Fame is.

Gravid o’er their seats 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 himseif fubdued ;
His feet on fceptres and tiaras trod,
And his horn'd head bely'd the Libyan God.
There Cæfar, grac'd with both Minervas, shone; 155
Cæfar, the world's great master, and his own ;
Unmov'd, superior still in every state,
And scarce detested in his Country's fate.
But chief were thofe, who not for empire fought,
But with their toils their people's safety bought : 160
High o'er the reft Epaminondas stood;
Timoleon, glorious in his brother's blood;
Bold Scipio, faviour of the Roman ftate;
Great in his triumphs, in retirement great;
And wife Aurelius, in whose well-taught mind
With boundless power unbounded virtue join'd,
His own strict judge, and patron of mankind.

Much suffering heroes next their honours claim,
Those of less noisy, and less 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 just, but when he sign’d the Shell :
Here his abode the martyr'd Phocion claims,
With Agis, not the laft of Spartan names :

175 Unconquer'd Cato fhews the wound he tore, And Brutus his ill Genius meets no more.



In years

But in the centre of the hallow'd choir, Six pompous columns o’er the rest aspire ; Around the shrine itself of Fame they stand, 180 Hold the chief honours, and the fane command. High on the first, the mighty Homer fhone ; Eternal adamant compos'd his throne; Father of verse! in holy fillets drefi, His filver beard wav'd gently o'er his breast;

185 Though blind, a boldness in his looks appears ;

he seem'd, but not impair'd by years. The wars of Troy were round the pillar seen : Here fierce Tydides wounds the Cyprian Queen; Here Hector glorious from Patroclus' fall,

190 Here dragg’d in triumph round the Trojan wall. Motion and life did every part infpire, Bold was the work, and prov'd the master's fire;

A strong
Ver. 179. Six pompous columns, &c.]

From the dees many a pillere,
Of metal that shone not full clere, &c.
Upon a pillere saw I stonde
That was of lede and iron fine,
Him of the feet Saturnine,
The Ebraicke Josephus 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, Săc.
Ver. 182.]

Full wonder high on a pilere
Of iron, he the great Omer,

And with him Ďares and Titus, &c.



A strong expreffion moft he feem'd t'affeet,
And here and there disclos'd a brave neglect.

A golden column next in rank appear dy
On which a fhrine of purest gold was rear'd;
Finish'd the whole, and labour'd every part,
With patient touches of unwearied art :
The Mantuan there in sober triumph sate,
Compos’d his pofture, and his look fedate;
On Homer ftill he fix'd a reverend eye,
Great without pride, in modeft majesty.
In living sculpture on the sides were spread
The Latian wars, and haughty Turnus dead; 205
Eliza stretch'd upon 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 thone.

Four swans sustain a car of silver bright, With heads advanc'd, and pinions stretch'd for flight: Here, like some furious prophet, Pindar rode, And seem'd to labour with th’inspiring God.

Ver. 196, &c.]

There law I stand on a pillere
That was of tinned iron cleere,
The Latin Poet Virgyle,
That'hath bore


The fame of pius Æneas :

And next him on a pillere was

copper, Venus' clerke Ovide,
That hath fowen wondrous wide
The great God of Love's fame


a great while

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