The temple shakes, the sounding gates unfold Wide vaults appear, and roofs of fretted gold: Raised on a thousand pillars, wreathed around With laurel foliage, and with eagles crown'd: 140 Of bright, transparent beryl were the walls, The friezes gold, and gold the capitals: As heaven with stars, the roof with jewels glows, And ever-living lamps depend in rows. Full in the passage of each spacious gate, The sage historians in white garments wait; Graved o'er their seats the form of Time was found, His scythe reversed, and both his pinions bound. Within stood heroes, who through loud alarms In bloody fields pursued renown in arms. 150 High on a throne, with trophies charged, I view'd The youth[64] that all things but himself subdued; His feet on sceptres and tiaras trod, And his horn'd head belied the Libyan god. There Cæsar, graced with both Minervas, shone; Cæsar, the world's great master, and his own; Unmoved, superior still in every state, And scarce detested in his country's fate. But chief were those, who not for empire fought, But with their toils their people's safety bought: 160 High o'er the rest Epaminondas stood; Timoleon,[65] glorious in his brother's blood; Bold Scipio, saviour of the Roman state; Great in his triumphs, in retirement great; And wise Aurelius, in whose well-taught mind, With boundless power unbounded virtue join'd, His own strict judge, and patron of mankind. Much-suffering heroes next their honours claim, Those of less noisy, and less guilty fame, Fair Virtue's silent train: supreme of these 170 Here ever shines the godlike Socrates: He whom ungrateful Athens[66] could expel, At all times just, but when he sign'd the shell: Here his abode the martyr'd Phocion claims, With Agis, not the last of Spartan names: Unconquer'd Cato shows the wound he tore, And Brutus his ill Genius meets no more. But in the centre of the hallow'd choir, Six pompous columns o'er the rest aspire; Around the shrine itself of Fame they stand, 180 Hold the chief honours, and the fane command. High on the first, the mighty Homer shone; Eternal adamant composed his throne; Father of verse! in holy fillets dress'd, His silver beard waved gently o'er his breast; Though blind, a boldness in his looks appears; In years he seem'd, but not impair'd by years. The wars of Troy were round the pillar seen: Here fierce Tydides wounds the Cyprian Queen; Here Hector, glorious from Patroclus' fall, 190 Here dragg'd in triumph round the Trojan wall: Motion and life did every part inspire, Bold was the work, and proved the master's fire; A strong expression most he seem'd to affect, And here and there disclosed a brave neglect.