At further end of this proud gallery led The charmed spectator to famed sculpture’s room, Where statuary did infuse with life the dead, So living like the marble did assume; There seen to burst the portals of the tomb, With dart erect to strike the deadly blow, The grim fell tyrant of the grave’s deep gloom; While eloquence seemed rife, with graceful flow, The senate’s orator, and bard with pensive brow. CXIII. Sweet thrilling airs now met their ravish’d ear, That sudden broke in ling’ring sweetness fell-- Now distant heard, now stealing softly near, The senses wrapt in one enchanting spell: Chords that a master struck, harmonious swell, As Handel once in soul-absorbing mood, By heav’n so taught, did seraph’s harpings tell, When the full organ, borne on music’s flood, Thrill’d the vast list’ning throng that ’neath th’ Abbey stood. CXIV. With that methought, with beck’ning silence grave, Their tireless guide their mute attention sought; With gentle tread did best behaviour crave; So urged he those whom hither he had brought, Then led them noiseless wrapp’d in deepest thought, Where they might see, as in a vision’s trance, Those whom the world hath art or science taught, And not themselves be seen by any chance, As figures ’fore them pass’d, a scene of strange romance. CXV. Great master spirits of a bygone age Were here beheld, each in his fond employ In which their lives were spent, and did engage At utmost stretch their powers ’bove others joy: Spurred on by Fame, tho’ hard to win, and coy, Oft never reached till death hath crown’d with bays The living found not, but neglects annoy, In which they struggled hard thro’ nights and days, In vain pursuit to gain the fleeting phantom--praise! CXVI. There Raphael’s form divine pass’d ’fore their eyes, Poussin and Claude, with Angelo sublime, Engaged in art that wakes awe’s deep surprise; Salvator Rosa, painter for all time; Rubens, whose easel gave the portrait prime; And he, Correggio, artist great to name; Reynolds and Lawrence, whom we gladly chime; Fuseli bold, whose wildest flight doth claim Praise, glowing praise, at sight of their immortal fame. CXVII. Appelles, too, whom nature drew to life, And Phidias, famed for sculpture in his day; Or he whose Trojan horse, with armed men rife; Colossus huge of Chares, Rhodes’ display, Beneath whose giant strides ship pass’d that way; And Chantrey they beheld, whose chisel wrought Sweet babes of loveliness, in slumber lay; Baily, whose lovely Eve fresh fountain sought, So seemed with breathing life the polish’d marble fraught. CXVIII.