He comes, he comes! bid ev'ry bard prepare The song of triumph, and attend his car. Great Sheffield's[16] muse the long procession heads, And throws a lustre o'er the pomp she leads; First gives the palm she fired him to obtain, 5 Crowns his gay brow, and shows him how to reign. Thus young Alcides, by old Chiron taught, Was formed for all the miracles he wrought: Thus Chiron did the youth he taught applaud, Pleased to behold the earnest of a god. 10 But hark, what shouts, what gath'ring crowds rejoice! Unstained their praise by any venal voice, Such as th' ambitious vainly think their due, When prostitutes, or needy flatt'rers sue. And see the chief! before him laurels borne; 15 Trophies from undeserving temples torn; Here Rage enchained reluctant raves, and there Pale Envy dumb, and sick'ning with despair; Prone to the earth she bends her loathing eye, Weak to support the blaze of majesty. 20 But what are they that turn the sacred page? Three lovely virgins, and of equal age; Intent they read, and all enamoured seem, As he that met his likeness in the stream:[17] The Graces these; and see how they contend, 25 Who most shall praise, who best shall recommend. The chariot now the painful steep ascends, The pæans cease; thy glorious labour ends. Here fixed, the bright eternal temple stands,[18] Its prospect an unbounded view commands: 30 Say, wond'rous youth, what column wilt thou choose, What laurelled arch for thy triumphant muse? Though each great ancient court thee to his shrine, Though ev'ry laurel through the dome be thine, (From the proud epic,[19] down to those that shade 35 The gentler brow of the soft Lesbian maid) Go to the good and just, an awful train,[20] Thy soul's delight, and glory of the fane: While through the earth thy dear remembrance flies, "Sweet to the world, and grateful to the skies." 40 WILLIAM BROOME. TO MR. POPE.[21]