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Aspice murorum moles, præruptaque faxa,

Obrutaque borrenti vasta theatra fitu :
Hæc funt Roma. Viden? velut ipsa cadavera tante
Urbis adhuc spirent imperiosa minas?

Janus Vitalis,

ENOUGH of Grongar, and the fhady dales

Of winding Towy, Merlin's fabled haunt,
I sung inglorious. Now the love of arts,
And what in metal or in stone remains
Of proud antiquity, thro' various realms
And various languages and ages fam'd,
Bears me remote, o'er Gallia's woody bounds,
O’er the cloud-piercing Alps remote ; beyond
The vale of Arno purpled with the vine,
Beyond the Umbrian and Etruscan hills,
To Latium's wide champain, forlorn and waste,


Where yellow Tiber his neglected wave
Mournfully rolls. Yet once again, my Muse,
Yet once again, and foar a loftier flight;
Lo the resifless theme, imperial Rome.

Fall’n, fall’n, a filent heap; her heroes all
Sunk in their urns ; behold the pride of pomp,
The throne of nations fall’n ; obfcure in duft ;
Ev'n yet majeftical; the folemn scene
Elates the foul, while now the rising sun
Flames on the ruins in the purer air
Tow'ring aloft, upon the glitt'ring plain,
Like broken rocks, a vast circumference;
Rent palaces, cruth'd columns, rifted moles,
Fanes roll’d on fanes, and tombs on buried tombs,

Deep lies in duft the Theban obelisc, Immenfe along the waste; minuter art, Gliconian forms, or Phidian, subtly fair, O’erwhelming; as th' immense Leviathan The finny brood, when near Ierne's shore Out-stretch'd, unwieldly, his ifland length appears Above the foamy flood. Globose and huge, Grey-mould'ring temples (well, and wide o'ercaft The folitary landskape, hills and woods, And boundless wilds; while the vine-mantled brows The pendent goats unveil, regardless they Of hourly peril, though the clefted domes Tremble to every wind. The pilgrim oft At dead of night, 'mid his oraison hears


Aghast the voice of time, difparting tow'rs,
Tumbling all precipitate down-dath'd,
Rattling around, loud thund'ring to the moon :
While murmurs footh each aweful interval
Of ever-falling waters ; shrouded Nile a,
Eridanus, and Tiber with his twins,
And palmy Euphrates ; they with dropping locks,
Hang o'er their urns, and mournfully among
The plaintive-echoing ruins pour their streams.

Yet here advent'rous in the sacred search
Of ancient arts, the delicate of mind,
Curious and modest, from all climes refort,
Grateful fociety! with these I raise
The toilfome step up the proud Palatin,
Through spiry cypress groves, and tow'ring pine,
Waving aloft o'er the big ruins brows,
On num'rous arches rear'd : and frequent stopp'd,
The funk ground startles me with dreadful chasm,
Breathing forth darkness from the vast profound
Ofifles and halls, within the mountain's womb.
Nor these the nether works; all these beneath,
And all beneath the vales and hills around,
Extend the cavern'd fewers, massy, firm,
As the Sibyline grot beside the dead
Lake of Avernus ; such the fewers huge,
Whither the great Tarquinian genius dooms

. Fountains at Rome adorned with the statues of those rivers.


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Each wave impure; and proud with added rains,
Hark how the mighty billows lash their vaults,
And thunder ; how they heave their rocks in vain!
Though now inceffant Time has roll'd around
A thousand winters o'er the changeful world,
And yet a thousand fince, th' indignant floods
Roar loud in their firm bounds, and dalh and swell,
In vain ; convey'd to Tiber's lowest wave.

Hence over airy plains, by crystal founts,
That weave their glittring waves with tuneful lapse,
Among the sleeky pebbles, agate clear,
Cerulean ophite, and the flow'ry vein
Of orient jasper, pleas'd I move along,
And vases boss'd, and huge inscriptive stones,
And intermingling vines ; and figur'd nymphs,
Flora's and Chloe's of delicious mould,
Cheering the darkness; and deep empty tombs,
And dells, and mould'ring shrines, with old decay
Rustick and green and wide-embow'ring fhades,
Shot from the crooked clefts of nodding tow'rs ;
A folemn wilderness! With error sweet,
I wind the ling’ring step, where-e'er the path
Mazy conducts me, which the vulgar foot
O’er sculptures maim'd has made ; Anubis, Sphinx,
Idols of antique guise, and horned Pan,
Terrifick, monstrous shapes ! propostrous gods,
Of Fear and Ign’rance, by the sculptor's hand
Hewn into form, and worship’d; as ev'n now



Blindly they worship at their breathless mouths
In varied appellations : men to these
(From depth to depth in dark’ning error fall’n)
At length ascrib'd th’ INAPPLICABLE Name.

How doth it please and fill the memory
With deeds of brave renown; while on each hand
Historick urns and breathing ftatues rise,
And speaking bufts ! Sweet Scipio, Marius ftern,
Pompey superb; the fpirit-ftirring form
Of Cæsar raptur'd with the charm of rule
And boundless fame ; impatient for exploits,
His eager eyes upcaft, he foars in thought
Above all height: and his own Brutus fee,
Desponding Brutus, dubious of the right,
In evil days, of faith, of publick weal
Solicitous and fad. Thy next regard
Be Tully's graceful attitude; uprais’d,
His out-ftretch'd arm he waves, in act to speak
Before the filent masters of the world,
And eloquence arrays him. There behold ,
Prepar'd for combat in the front of war
The pious brothers; jealous Alba ftands
In fearful expectation of the strife,
And youthful Rome intent: the kindred foes
Fall on each other's neck in silent tears ;
In sorrowful benevolence embrace

Several statues of the Pagan gods have been converted into images of saints.


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