646 From an Ode to the Four Great Epic Bards. 



Weep ye not, poets ! though the world 



With ivy should be overgrown, 

 Though sun and stars be downward hurl'd, 



The light of genius shines alone I 

 Ye watch and sing, and sing and watch, by Heaven's 

 eternal throne ! 



Go stand beside the tomb where *Milton lies : 

 It fills the centre of a silent aisle ; 

 Yet few there are whose thoughtlessness would smile, 

 Or take the tone of counterfeit surprise, 

 When loitering by that lonely spot awhile : 

 The din of life swells noisily without, 

 Full many a rabble-curse and senseless shout, 

 Full many a flaunting jibe in folly's eyes 

 And many a falsehood calmly cold 

 Is raised in outward quest of gold, 

 But spirits sit that modest tomb beside, 

 Bright spirits ! passing far man's sublunary pride ! 



Hither, ye kings of earth, or shades of kings ! 



Hither, ye conquerors of mankind ! 

 Who swept along on transitory wings ; 

 Hither, ye sages, sainted though ye be, 

 Industrious searchers of man's mystic ways, 

 The tapers of whose unassisted gaze 

 Did vainly scrutinize eternity, 

 Till darkness mantled o'er the mind : 



Arise! appear! 

 King's ! conquerors ! sages ! lay your glories here : 



The man who sleeps in yonder tomb, 



Hath soar'd beyond a world of gloom 



To gaze into the glorious sun ! 



Yet deem not that his race was run 



When death o'erdropped his weary lids : 



Oh ! deem not that his genius sleeps 



Where Night her silent empire keeps : 



No he shall sing, and live, and be 



When Time's unfathomable sea 



Hath overwhelm'd the Pyramids ! 



* Milton was buried in St. Giles's, Cripplegate his monument is very simple. 



