Grey-mould'ring temples fwell, and wide o'ercaft
The folitary landskip, 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 Aghaft the voice of time, difparting tow'rs, Tumbling all precipitate down-dash'd,
Rattling around, loud thund'ring to the moon: While murmurs footh each aweful interval Of ever-falling waters; fhrouded Nile', 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 facred fearch
Of ancient arts, the delicate of mind,
Curious and modeft, from all climes refort, Grateful fociety with thefe I raise
The toilsome step up the proud Palatin,
Through fpiry cypress groves, and tow'ring pine, Waving aloft o'er the big ruins brows,
* Fountains at Rome adorned with the statues of those rivers.
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 Of ifles 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, maffy, firm, As the Sibylline grot befide the dead Lake of Avernus; fuch the fewers huge, Whither the great Tarquinian genius dooms 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 dash and fwell,
In vain; convey'd to Tiber's lowest wave.
Hence over airy plains, by cryftal founts,
That weave their glitt'ring waves with tuneful lapfe, Among the fleeky pebbles, agate clear,
Cerulean ophite, and the flow'ry vein
Of orient jafper, 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 Ruftic and green, and wide-embow'ring fhades, Shot from the crooked clefts of nodding tow'rs; A folemn wilderness! With error fweet,
I wind the ling'ring ftep, where-e'er the path Mazy conducts me, which the vulgar foot. O'er sculptures maim'd has made; Anubis, Sphinx, Idols of antique guife, and horned Pan, Terrific, monftrous fhapes! prepoft'rous gods, Of Fear and Ign'rance, by the fculptor's hand Hewn into form, and worship'd; as ev'n now Blindly they worship at their breathlefs mouths In varied appellations: men to these (From depth to depth in dark'ning error fall'n) At length afcrib'd th' INAPPLICABLE NAME.
How doth it please and fill the memory With deeds of brave renown, while on each hand Historic urns and breathing ftatues rife,
And speaking bufts! Sweet Scipio, Marius stern, .
Several statues of the pagan gods have been converted into images of faints.
Pompey fuperb, the spirit-stirring form Of Cæfar 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, Defponding Brutus, dubious of the right, In evil days, of faith, of public weal Solicitous and fad. Thy next regard Be Tully's graceful attitude; uprais'd, His out-stretch'd arm he waves, in act to speak, Before the filent mafters of the world,
And eloquence arrays him. There behold Prepar❜d for combat in the front of war
The pious brothers, jealous Alba stands In fearful expectation of the ftrife,
And youthful Rome intent: the kindred foes Fall on each other's neck in filent tears; In forrowful benevolence embrace -- Howe'er they foon unsheath the flashing fword, Their country calls to arms; now all in vain The mother clafps the knee, and ev'n the fair Now weeps in vain; their country' calls to arms. Such virtue Clelia, Cocles, Manlius, rous'd; Such were the Fabii, Decii; fo infpir'd
The Scipio's battled, and the Gracchi spoke : So rofe the Roman ftate. Me now, of these
Deep-mufing, high ambitious thoughts inflame Greatly to ferve my country, diftant land,
And build me virtuous fame; nor fhall the duft Of these fall'n piles with fhew of fad decay Avert the good refolve, mean argument, The fate alone of matter.--Now the brow We gain enraptur'd; beauteously distinct The num'rous portico's and domes upfwell, With obelifcs and columns interpos'd, And pine, and fir, and oak: so fair a scene Sees not the dervise from the spiral tomb Of ancient Chammos, while his eye beholds Proud Memphis' reliques o'er th' Ægyptian plain Nor hoary hermit from Hymettus' brow, Though graceful Athens, in the vale beneath. Along the windings of the Mufe's stream, Lucid Ilyffus, weeps her filent schools,
And groves, unvifited by bard or fage. Amid the tow'ry ruins, huge, fupreme,
Th' enormous amphitheatre behold,
From the Palatin hill one fees most of the remarkable antiquities.
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