Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

The spacious defert, bright'ning in the fun,
Proud and more proud, in their auguft approach;
High o'er irriguous vales and woods and towns,
Glide the foft whispering waters in the wind,
And here united pour their filver ftreams
Among the figur'd rocks, in murm'ring falls,
Thefe thy beauteous works:

Mufical ever.

And what befide felicity could tell

Of human benefit: more late the reft;

At various times their turrets chanc'd to rise,
When impious tyranny vouchfaf'd to smile.

Behold by Tiber's flood, where modern Rome &
Couches beneath the ruins: there of old

With arms and trophies gleam'd the field of Mars:
There to their daily sports the noble youth
Rufh'd emulous; to fling the pointed lance;
To vault the fteed; or with the kindling wheel
In dufty whirlwinds fweep the trembling goal;
Or wrestling, cope with adverse swelling breasts,
Strong, grappling arms, clos'd heads, and distant feet;
Or clash the lifted gauntlets: there they form'd
Their ardent virtues : lo the boffy piles,
The proud triumphal arches; all their wars,
Their conquests, honours, in the sculptures live.
And fee from every gate those ancient roads,

Modern Rome ftands chiefly on the old Campus Martius.

With tombs high-verg'd, the folemn paths of Fame:
Deserve they not regard? O'er whose broad flints
Such crowds have roll'd, so many storms of war ;
Such trains of confuls, tribunes, fages, kings;
So many pomps; fo many wond'ring realms :
Yet ftill through mountains pierc'd, o'er vallies rais'd,
In even ftate, to distant seas around,

They stretch their pavements. Lo the fane of Peace,
Built by that prince, who to the trust of pow'r h
Was honeft, the delight of human kind.
Three nodding ifles remain; the reft an heap

Of fand and weeds; her fhrines, her radiant roofs
And columns proud, that from her spacious floor,
As from a fhining fea, majestick rose

An hundred foot aloft, like stately beech
Around the brim of Dion's glaffy lake,
Charming the mimick painter: on the walls
Hung Salem's facred fpoils; the golden board,
And golden trumpets, now conceal'd, entomb'd
By the funk roof.-O'er which in diftant view
Th' Etrufcan mountains fwell, with ruins crown'd
Of ancient towns; and blue Soracte fpires,
Wrapping his fides in tempefts. Eaftward hence,
Nigh where the Ceftian pyramid divides i

Begun by Vefpafian, and finished by Titus.

The tomb of Ceftius, partly within, and partly without the walls.

}

P 4

The

The mould'ring wall, behold yon fabrick huge,
Whofe duft the folemn antiquarian turns,
And thence in broken fculptures caft abroad,
Like Sybil's leaves, collects the builder's name
Rejoic'd, and the green medals frequent found
Doom Caracalla to perpetual fame :

The stately pines, that spread their branches-wide
In the dun ruins of its ample halls, k

[ocr errors]

Appear but tufts; as may whate'er is high
Sink in comparison, minute and vile.

These, and unnumber'd, yet their brows uplift,

Rent of their graces; as Britannia's oaks

On Merlin's mount, or Snowden's rugged fides,
Stand in the clouds, their branches fcatter'd round,
After the tempeft; Maufoleums, Cirques,
Naumachios, Forums; Trajan's column tall,
From whofe low bafe the fculptures wind aloft,
And lead through various toils, up the rough steep,
Its hero to the skies: and his dark tow'r!

Whofe execrable hand the city fir'd,

And while the dreadful conflagration blaz'd,
Play'd to the flames; and Phoebus' letter'd dome;
And the rough reliques of Carinæ's street,

Where now the shepherd to his nibbling sheep
Sits piping with his oaten reed; as erft

The baths of Caracalla, a vaft ruin.

1 Nero's.

The Palatin library.

There

There pip'd the shepherd to his nibbling sheep,
When th' humble roof Anchifes' fon explor'd
Of good Evander, wealth-defpifing king,
Amid the thickets: fo revolves the scene;
So time ordains, who rolls the things of pride
From duft again to duft. Behold that heap
Of mould'ring urns (their ashes blown away,
Duft of the mighty) the fame story tell;
And at its base, from whence the ferpent glides
Down the green desert street, yon hoary monk
Laments the fame, the vifion as he views,
The folitary, filent, folemn scene,

Where Cæfars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie,
Blended in duft together; where the slave
Refts from his labours; where th' infulting proud
Refigns his pow'r; the mifer drops his hoard;
Where human folly fleeps.-There is a mood,
(I fing not to the vacant and the young)
There is a kindly mood of melancholy,

That wings the foul, and points her to the skies;
When tribulation cloaths the child of man,

When
age defcends with forrow to the grave,
''Tis fweetly-foothing fympathy to pain,
A gently wak'ning call to health and ease.
How mufical! when all-devouring Time,
Here fitting on his throne of ruins hoar,
While winds and tempefts fweep his various lyre,
How fweet thy diapafon, Melancholy !

Cool

Cool ev'ning comes; the setting fun displays
His vifible great round between yon tow❜rs,
As through two fhady cliffs; away, my Mufe,
Though yet the prospect pleases, ever new
In vast variety, and yet delight

The many-figur'd fculptures of the path
Half beauteous, half effac'd; the traveller
Such antique marbles to his native land
Oft hence conveys; and ev'ry realm and state
With Rome's auguft remains, heroes and gods,
Deck their long galleries and winding groves;
Yet mifs we not th' innumerable thefts,
Yet ftill profufe of graces teems the waste.
Suffice it now th' Efquilian mount to reach
With weary wing, and feek the facred refts
Of Maro's humble tenement; a low
Plain wall remains; a little fun-gilt heap,
Grotefque and wild; the gourd and olive brown
Weave the light roof; the gourd and olive fan
Their am'rous foliage, mingling with the vine,
Who drops her purple clusters through the green.
Here let me lie, with pleafing fancy footh'd:
Here flow'd his fountain; here his laurels grew;
Here oft the meek good man, the lofty bard
Fram'd the celeftial fong, or focial walk'd
With Horace and the ruler of the world;
Happy Auguftus! who fo well infpir'd
Could't throw thy pomps and royalties afide,

Attentive

« ПредишнаНапред »