[Footnote 1: The remainder of this sentence was omitted by Pope in the later editions of his poem.] [Footnote 2: Pope forgot that he had transferred portions of the second book to his own imitation.] [Footnote 3: The parallel passages from Chaucer were not given by Pope till 1736, and he then added the last sentence to the original advertisement.] [Footnote 4: These remarks of Pope appeared in the form of a note to the first edition.] [Footnote 5: Specimens of the British Poets, ed. Cunningham, p. 5.] [Footnote 6: Singer's Spence, p. 211.] [Footnote 7: Spence, p. 214.] THE TEMPLE OF FAME. In that soft season,[1] when descending show'rs[2] Call forth the greens, and wake the rising flow'rs;[3] When opening buds salute the welcome day,[4] And earth relenting[5] feels the genial ray; As balmy sleep had charmed my cares to rest, 5 And love itself was banished from my breast,[6] (What time the morn mysterious visions brings,[7] While purer slumbers spread their golden wings) A train of phantoms in wild order rose, And joined, this intellectual scene[8] compose. 10 I stood, methought, betwixt earth, seas, and skies;[9] The whole creation open to my eyes: In air self-balanced hung the globe below,[10] Where mountains rise, and circling oceans flow; Here naked rocks, and empty wastes were seen, 15 There tow'ry cities, and the forests green; Here sailing ships delight the wand'ring eyes; There trees, and intermingled temples rise:[11] Now a clear sun the shining scene displays;[12] The transient landscape now in clouds decays. 20 O'er the wide prospect as I gazed around, Sudden I heard a wild promiscuous sound, Like broken thunders that at distance roar, Or billows murm'ring on the hollow shore:[13] Then, gazing up, a glorious pile beheld, 25 Whose tow'ring summit ambient clouds concealed. High on a rock of ice the structure lay,[14] Steep its ascent, and slipp'ry was the way;[15] The wondrous rock like Parian marble shone, And seemed, to distant sight, of solid stone. 30 Inscriptions here of various names I viewed,[16] The greater part by hostile time subdued; Yet wide was spread their fame in ages past, And poets once had promised they should last. Some fresh engraved appeared of wits renowned; 35 I looked again, nor could their trace be found. Critics I saw, that other names deface, And fix their own, with labour, in their place: Their own, like others, soon their place resigned, Or disappeared, and left the first behind. 40 Nor was the work impaired by storms alone,[17] But felt th' approaches of too warm a sun; For Fame, impatient of extremes, decays