In dire amazement rivetted they stand, And hear the breakers lash the rugged strand— But scarce perceived, when past the beam it flies, Swift as the rapid eagle cleaves the skies; That danger past reflects a feeble joy, But soon returning fears their hope destroy; As in th’ Atlantic Ocean, when we find Some alp of ice driv’n southward by the wind, The sultry air all sickening pants around, In deluges of torrid ether drown’d; Till when the floating isle approaches nigh, In cooling tides th’ aërial billows fly: Awhile delivered from the scorching heat, In gentler tides our feverish pulses beat: Such transient pleasure, as they passed this strand, A moment bade their throbbing hearts expand; Th’ illusive meteors of a lifeless fire, Too soon they kindle, and too soon expire. III. Say, Memory! thou, from whose unerring tongue Instructive flows the animated song, What regions now the scudding ship surround? Regions of old through all the world renown’d; That, once the Poet’s theme, the Muses’ boast, Now lie in ruins, in oblivion lost! Did they, whose sad distress these lays deplore, } Unskilled in Grecian, or in Roman lore, } Unconscious pass along each famous shore? } They did: for in this desert, joyless soil, No flowers of genial science deign to smile; Sad ocean’s genius, in untimely hour, Withers the bloom of every springing flower; For native tempests here with blasting breath, Despoil, and doom the vernal buds to death; Here fancy droops, while sullen clouds, and storm, The generous temper of the soul deform: Then, if among the wandering naval train, One stripling, exiled from th’ Aonian plain, Had e’er, entranced in Fancy’s soothing dream, Approached to taste the sweet Castalian stream; (Since those salubrious streams, with power divine, To purer sense the softened soul refine) Sure he, amid unsocial mates immured, To learning lost, severer grief endured; In vain might Phœbus’ ray his mind inspire, Since Fate with torrents quenched the kindling fire: If one this pain of living death possess’d, It dwelt supreme, Arion! in thy breast; When, with Palemon, watching in the night Beneath pale Cynthia’s melancholy light, You oft recounted those surrounding states, Whose glory Fame with brazen tongue relates. Immortal Athens first, in ruin spread, Contiguous lies at Port Liono’s head; Great source of science! whose immortal name Stands foremost in the glorious roll of Fame; Here god-like Socrates, and Plato shone, And, firm to truth, eternal honour won; The first in Virtue’s cause his life resigned, By Heaven pronounced the wisest of mankind; The last proclaimed the spark of vital fire, The Soul’s fine essence, never could expire;