CXLVI
Simple, erect, severe, austere, sublime- Shrine of all saints and temple of all Gods, From Jove to Jesus-spared and blest by Time
-
Looking tranquillity, while falls or nods Arch-empire-each thing round thee-and
Man plods
His way through thorns to ashes-glorious
Dome!
Shalt thou not last? Time's scythe and Tyrants' rods
Shiver upon thee-sanctuary and home
Of Art and Piety-Pantheon!-pride of
Rome!
CXLVII.
Relic of nobler days, and noblest arts!
Despoiled yet perfect! with thy circle spreads
A holiness appealing to all hearts;
To Art a model-and to him who treads
Rome for the sake of ages, Glory sheds Her light through thy sole aperture; to those
Who worship, here are altars for their beads
-
And they who feel for Genius may repose
Their eyes on honoured forms, whose busts
around them close.