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Rais'd on a thousand pillars, wreath'd around
found, His scythe revers’d, and both his pinions bound: Within stood Heroes, who, through loud alarms, In bloody fields pursu'd renown in arms. High on a throne, with trophies charg'd, I
The Youth that all things but himself subdu'd:
shone; CÆSAR, the world's great master, and his own;
Unmov'd, superior still, in ev'ry state,
mind With boundless pow'r unbounded virtue join'd, His own strict judge, and patron of man
Much-suff'ring Heroes next their honours claim, Those of less noisy and less guilty fame, Fair Virtue's silent train: supreme of these, llere ever shines the godlike SOCRATES; He whom ungrateful Athens could expel, At all times just, but when he sign’d the shell : Here his abode the martyr'd PHOcion claims, With Agis, not the last of Spartan names :
Unconquer'd Caro shows 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 rest aspire; Around the shrine 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 verse! in holy fillets drest, His silver beard wav'd gently o'er his breast; Though blind, a boldness in his looks appears; In years 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, Here dragg'd in triumph round the Trojan wall. Motion and life did ev'ry part inspire, Bold was the work, and prov'd the master's fire; A strong expression most he seem'd t' affect, And here and there disclos'd a brave neglect,
A golden column next in rank appear'd, On which a shrine of purest gold was rear'd; Finish'd the whole, and labour'd ev'ry part, With patient touches of unwearied art: The MANTUAN there in sober triumph sates Compos'd his posture, and his look sedate; On HOMER still he fix'd a rev'rent eye, Great without pride, in modest majesty. In living sculpture on the sides were spread The, LATIAN Wars, and haughty TURNUS
dead; Eliza stretch'd upon the fun'ral pyrë; Æneas bending with his aged Sire : Troy flam'd in burning gold; and o'er the
throne Arms and the Man in golden cyphers shone.
Four swans sustain a car of silver bright, With heads advanc'd, and pinions stretch'd for
flight: Ilere, like some furious prophet, PINDAR rode, And seem'd to labour with th' inspiring God.
Across the harp a careless hand he flings,
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 posture, threat; And all appear’d irregularly great.
Here happy HORACE tun'd th’ Ausonian
lyre To sweeter sounds, and temper'd PINDAR'S
Pleas'd with Alcæus'.manly rage ť infuse