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          With patient touches of unwearied art;

          The Mantuan there in sober triumph sate,

          Composed his posture, and his look sedate:

          On Homer still he fixed a reverent eye,

          Great without pride, in modest majesty,

          In living sculpture on the sides were spread

          The Latian wars, and haughty Turnus dead:

          Eliza stretched upon the funeral pyre,

          Aeneas bending with his aged sire:

          Troy flamed in burning gold, and o'er the throne

          Arms and the Man in golden ciphers shone.

              Four swans sustain a car of silver bright,

          With heads advanced, and pinions stretched for flight,

          Here, like some furious prophet, Pindar rode,

          And seemed to labour with the inspiring God.

          Across the harp a careless hand he flings,

          And boldly sinks into the sounding strings.

          The figured games of Greece the column grace,

          Neptune and Jove survey the rapid race.

          The youths hang o'er their chariots as they run;

          The fiery steeds seem starting from the stone:

          The champions in distorted postures threat;

          And all appeared irregularly great.

              Here happy Horace tuned th' Ausonian lyre

          To sweeter sounds, and tempered Pindar's fire;

          Pleased with Alcaeus' manly rage t' infuse

          The softer spirit of the Sapphic Muse.

          The polished pillar different sculptures grace;

          A work outlasting monumental brass.

          Here smiling Loves and Bacchanals appear,

          The Julian star, and great Augustus here:

          The Doves, that round the infant Poet spread

          Myrtles and bays, hang hov'ring o'er his head.

              Here, in a shrine that cast a dazzling light,

          Sate, fixed in thought, the mighty Stagyrite:

          His sacred head a radiant zodiac crowned,

          And various animals his sides surround:

          His piercing eyes, erect, appear to view

          Superior worlds, and look all Nature through.

              With equal rays immortal Tully shone;

          The Roman rostra decked the Consul's throne:

          Gathering his flowing robe, he seemed to stand

          In act to speak, and graceful stretched his hand.

          Behind, Rome's Genius waits with civic crowns,

          And the great Father of his country owns.

              These massy columns in a circle rise,

          O'er which a pompous dome invades the skies:

          Scarce to the top I stretched my aching sight,

          So large it spread, and swelled to such a height.

          Full in the midst proud Fame's imperial seat

          With jewels blazed magnificently great:

          The vivid emeralds there revive the eye,

          The flaming rubies show their sanguine dye,

          Bright azure rays from lively sapphires stream,

          And lucid amber casts a golden gleam,

          With various coloured light the pavement shone,

          And all on fire appeared 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 cast my sight,

          Scarce seemed her stature of a cubit's height;

          But swelled to larger size the more I gazed,

          Till to the roof her towering front she raised;

          With her the Temple every moment grew,

          And ampler vistas opened to my view:

          Upward the columns shoot, the roofs ascend,

          And arches widen, and long aisles extend,

          Such was her form, as ancient Bards have told,

          Wings raise her arms, and wings her feet infold;

          A thousand busy tongues the Goddess bears,

          A thousand open eyes, a thousand listening ears.

          Beneath, in order ranged, the tuneful Nine

          (Her virgin handmaids) still attend the shrine:

          With eyes on Fame for ever fixed, they sing;

          For Fame they raise the voice, and tune the string:

          With Time's first birth began the heavenly lays,

          And last eternal through the length of days.

              Around these wonders, as I cast a look,

          The trumpet sounded, and the temple shook,

          And all the nations, summoned at the call,

          From diff'rent quarters, fill the crowded hall:

          Of various tongues the mingled sounds were heard;

          In various garbs promiscuous throngs appeared;

          Thick as the bees that with the spring renew

          Their flow'ry toils, and sip the fragrant dew,

          When the winged colonies first tempt the sky,

          O'er dusky fields and shaded waters fly;

          Or, settling, seize the sweets the blossoms yield,

          And a low murmur runs along the field.

          Millions of suppliant crowds the shrine attend,

          And all degrees before the Goddess bend;

          The poor, the rich, the valiant, and the sage,

          And boasting youth, and narrative old age.

          Their pleas were diff'rent, their request the same:

          For good and bad alike are fond of Fame.

          Some she disgraced, and some with honours crowned;

          Unlike successes equal merits found.

          Thus her blind sister, fickle Fortune, reigns,

          And, undiscerning, scatters crowns and chains.

              First at the shrine the Learned world appear,

          And

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