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FROM AN ODE TO THE FOUR GREAT EPIC BARDS. 



THE world was dark when Homer sung, 



As dark as on creation's day, 

 Ere light's divine enchantment flung 



On every shade a living ray. 

 The world was dark, the minds of men 



Groped feebly on their dreary way, 

 And beauty glimmer'd forth to be extinct again ! 



But godlike Homer rose : 

 Oh ! feel ye not the burning spell 

 That then on listening nations fell 

 (Nor lov'd too long, nor lov'd too well), 



And charm'd them to repose ? 

 Oh ! hear ye not the thrilling strains 

 That rose and rise from Grecian plains ? 

 And do ye not adore the man 



Who placed upon his country's brow 



A diadem that decks her now, 

 For all mankind to scan ? 



Alas ! though Homer's genius drew 

 Beauties of a living hue 

 From fancy's Iris that o'erspans mankind, 

 And though his theme for ever 

 A canoniz'd endeavour, 

 With deathless melodies will be enshrin'd : 

 Could the lost bard behold his country now. 

 How pale, how chill'd, how passionless her brow ! 

 How trampled and despis'd her lonely lot 1 

 His Attic heart would weep itself away, 

 And bid the burden of his former lay 

 In present degradation be forgot ! 



And thou, sweet Mantuan ! lovely in thy song, 



Aspiring type of eagle Rome ! 



Oh ! could'st thou leave the shadowy Stygian throng, 

 Oh ! could'st thou pluck thy own *enchanted branch, 

 And fascinate old Charon's crazy flaunch, 



To bear thee to thy native home, 



How sad thy household gods would meet 



The winged echoes of thy feet, 



Their temples bound with votive yew ! 

 How lone 'midst crumbling fanes thy steps would fall, 

 And how a troop of memories, all 

 Of Roman grandeur o'er thy troubled soul, 



And Roman glory too, 

 Like misty clouds dim seen at night, would roll ! 



* Latet arbore opaca 

 Aureus et foliis et lento vimine Ramus. 



^ENEID, Lib. vi. 136. 

 f Gemuit sub pondere cymba 

 Sutilis, et multam accepit rimosa paludem. 



Idib. 414. 



