Page:The Poems of John Dyer (1903).djvu/37

 Mazy conducts me, which the vulgar foot O'er sculptures maim'd has made; Anubis, Sphinx, Idols of antique guise, and horned Pan, Terrific, monstrous shapes! prepost'rous gods Of fear and ignorance, by the sculptor's hand Hewn into form, and worshipp'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 Historic urns and breathing statues rise, And speaking busts! Sweet Scipio, Marius stern, Pompey superb, the spirit-stirring form Of Caesar, raptur'd with the charm of rule And boundless fame; impatient for exploits, His eager eyes upcast, he soars in thought Above all height: and his own Brutus see, Desponding Brutus! dubious of the right, In evil days of faith, of public weal, Solicitous and sad. Thy next regard Be Tully's graceful attitude; uprais'd, His outstretch'd arm he waves, in act to speak Before the silent masters 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 strife, And youthful Rome intent: the kindred foes Fall on each other's neck in silent tears; In sorrowful benevolence embrace— Howe'er they soon unsheath the flashing sword Their country calls to arms; now all in vain The mother clasps the knee, and ev'n the fair