LXXXIV.
Thou led'st the way to that illumined sphere
Where sovereign beauty dwells; and thence didst bear,
Oh, still triumphant in that high career!
Bright archetypes of all the grand and fair.
And still to thee th' enlightened mind hath flown,
As to her country;—thou hast been to earth
A cynosure;—and, e'en from victory's throne,
Imperial Rome gave homage to thy worth;
And nations rising to their fame afar,
LXXXV.
Glory to those whose relics thus arrest
The gaze of ages! Glory to the free!
For they, they only, could have thus imprest
Their mighty image on the years to be!
Empires and cities in oblivion lie,
Grandeur may vanish, conquest be forgot:—
To leave on earth renown that cannot die,
Of high-soul'd genius is th' unrivall'd lot.
Honour to thee, O Athens! thou hast shewn
