rapid race. 
    The youths hang o’er their chariots as they run;
    The fiery steeds seem starting from the stone: 
    The champions in distorted postures threat;
    And all appeared irregularly great. 
        Here happy Horace tuned th’ Ausonian lyre
    To sweeter sounds, and tempered Pindar’s fire;
    Pleased with Alcaeus’ manly rage t’ infuse
    The softer spirit of the Sapphic Muse. 
    The polished pillar different sculptures grace;
    A work outlasting monumental brass. 
    Here smiling Loves and Bacchanals appear,
    The Julian star, and great Augustus here: 
    The Doves, that round the infant Poet spread
    Myrtles and bays, hang hov’ring o’er his head. 
        Here, in a shrine that cast a dazzling light,
    Sate, fixed in thought, the mighty Stagyrite: 
    His sacred head a radiant zodiac crowned,
    And various animals his sides surround: 
    His piercing eyes, erect, appear to view
    Superior worlds, and look all Nature through. 
        With equal rays immortal Tully shone;
    The Roman rostra decked the Consul’s throne: 
    Gathering his flowing robe, he seemed to stand
    In act to speak, and graceful stretched his hand. 
    Behind, Rome’s Genius waits with civic crowns,
    And the great Father of his country owns. 
        These massy columns in a circle rise,
    O’er which a pompous dome invades the skies: 
    Scarce to the top I stretched my aching sight,
    So large it spread, and swelled to such a height. 
    Full in the midst proud Fame’s imperial seat
    With jewels blazed magnificently great: 
    The vivid emeralds there revive the eye,
    The flaming rubies show their sanguine dye,
    Bright azure rays from lively sapphires stream,
    And lucid amber casts a golden gleam,
    With various coloured light the pavement shone,
    And all on fire appeared the glowing throne;
    The dome’s high arch reflects the mingled blaze,
    And forms a rainbow of alternate rays. 
    When on the Goddess first I cast my sight,
    Scarce seemed her stature of a cubit’s height;
    But swelled to larger size the more I gazed,
    Till to the roof her towering front she raised;
    With her the Temple every moment grew,
    And ampler vistas opened to my view: 
    Upward the columns shoot, the roofs ascend,
    And arches widen, and long aisles extend,
    Such was her form, as ancient Bards have told,
    Wings raise her arms, and wings her feet infold;
    A thousand busy tongues the Goddess bears,
    A thousand open eyes, a thousand listening ears. 
    Beneath, in order ranged, the tuneful Nine
    (Her virgin handmaids) still attend the shrine: 
    With eyes on Fame for ever fixed, they sing;
    For Fame they raise the voice, and tune the string: 
    With Time’s first birth