The vaulted mansions of th' illustrious dead Inspire his shudd'ring soul with ghastly fears, Dire shapes, and beck'ning shades around him tread, And hollow voices murmur in his ears. XIII. There, as around the monumental maze Darkling he wanders, a resplendent gleam Shoots o'er th' illumin'd isle a distant blaze, Pale as the glow-worm's fire, or Cynthia's beam. XIV. With glory clad, th' imperial shrines among, Four royal shapes on iv'ry thrones were plac'd, High o'er their heads four airy diadems hung, Which never yet their maiden brows had grac'd. XV. The first was he, whom CRESSY'S glorious plain Has fam'd for martial deeds and bold emprize; Nor less his praise in Virtue's milder strain, Just, humble, learned, merciful and wise. XVI. Next ARTHUR sat, at whose auspicious birth In one sweet flower the blended roses join'd; And HENRY next, fair plant of Scottish earth, The hope, the joy of ALBION and mankind. XVII. Yet green in death, the last majestic shade Wore gracious FREDERIC'S mild, endearing look; To him the rest obeysance courteous paid, And EDWARD thus the princely form bespoke: XVIII. "All hail! illustrious partner of our fate, "For whom, as once for us, Britannia bleeds; "Hail! to the mansions of the good and great, "Where crowns immortal wait on virtuous deeds. XIX. "The same our fortune, as our worth the same, "(To worth like ours short date doth heav'n assign) "As one our fortune, one shall be our fame, "And long record our deathless names shall join. XX. "But oh! I tremble for Britannia's state, "May guardian pow'rs avert the dire presage! "For well she knows, at our untimely fate "How heav'n's dread vengeance smote each sinful age. XXI. "The regal staff aspiring BOLINGBROKE "Snatch'd with rude grasp from RICHARD'S princely hand; "Loos'd from hell's confines, civil Discord shook "The dubious throne, and tore the bleeding land. XXIII. "When ARTHUR died, imperious HENRY'S thirst "Of subject's blood, nor heeded sex nor age; "His wives a sacrifice to vagrant lust, "His nobles victims to tyrannic rage. XXIV. "When pious CHARLES in right fraternal reign'd, "Rebellion proudly stalk'd from shore to shore, "Her laws, her rights, her holy faith profan'd, "And dy'd the guilty land with royal gore. XXV. "Yet ah! may pity move relenting heav'n! "Enough she groans beneath her present woe; "Enough to vengeance is already given; "Her FREDERIC'S dead;--there needs no other blow." XXVI.