Before whose throne Helvetia stood, to claim 45 For an aspiring votary of Fame Admittance to these realms:--"O Muse," she cried, "The Master's works contemplate, and decide." While speaking thus, her wand on high she rear'd, And lo! a train of pictur'd groups appear'd; 50 Heroic phantoms seem'd to start from night, And forms of beauty floated 'fore my sight; From ages past reflected scenes arose, Of human passions, and eternal woes. There I beheld pourtray'd the lofty story 55 Of Man's first fall, and Satan's tarnish'd glory. There rose the spectre Prophet from the tomb, To Saul announcing his impending doom. Of Ilion's tale a vision seem'd to speak, And the long wand'rings of the prudent Greek. 60 There Eriphyle bleeds upon the ground, While Furies fly t' avenge the impious wound. In horror plunged, deplor'd Jocasta's son The fated crimes he strove in vain to shun. Here stalk'd the shadow of the murder'd Dane; 65 Appall'd, methought I saw th' astonish'd Thane Hail'd by each wither'd hag;--From Helle's tide Th' enamour'd youth rush'd to his Sestian bride. There, lost to hope, the lovers mourn for ever! Whom not th' infernal whirlwind's rage can sever. 70 The traitor Guelph, too, 'midst his famish'd brood, Expects in Death th' eternal feast of blood. In knightly guise th' heroic Virgin's arm Redeems fair Amoret from magic charm: And Arthur slept; who woke but to deplore 75 The Beauty lov'd for ever, seen no more. On the aërial portraiture, amaz'd, In pleasing wonder lost, intent I gaz'd; As Sorrow, Guilt, Despair, the scenes express'd, Awe, Terror, Pity, sway'd by turns my breast; 80 When, suddenly, I saw the heaven-born Maid Of sacred numbers, from a neighbouring glade, 'Midst the great masters of immortal song, Toward the throne of Painting move along. Now blind no more Mæonides, and he, 85 The daring Bard of Man's apostasy, With buskin'd Sophocles, and lofty Gray, Spenser, sweet master of the moral lay; Severely grand, the Florentine sublime, And Avon's Bard, unmatch'd by age or clime, 90 All crowd the visionary scenes t' admire, Pleas'd that such scenes their genius could inspire. While onward the poetic Virgin press'd, And her who reign'd o'er Painting, thus address'd:-- "O Muse! who charmest silently, attend 95 To Poesy, thy Sister, and thy friend. No vot'ry of that art o'er which you reign,