Hark! white-rob'd crowds their deep hosannas raise,

And the hoarse flood repeats the sound of praise; Ten thousand harps attune the mystic song,

Ten thousand thousand saints the strain prolong;—

"Worthy the Lamb! omnipotent to save,

"Who died, who lives, triumphant o'er the

grave!

REGINALD HEBER,

BRAZEN-NOSE COLLEGE.

A

RECOMMENDATION OF THE STUDY

OF THE REMAINS OF

ANCIENT GRECIAN AND ROMAN

ARCHITECTURE, SCULPTURE,

AND

PAINTING.

THOUGH oft in Britain's isle the breathing bust

To fame consign the patriot-hero's dust,
And conquerors wak'd to mimic life again

In imag'd triumph thunder o'er the main ;

Though speaks each mould by Flaxman's genius

wrought,

The glow of fancy, or the stretch of thought:

N. B. This Composition was originally restricted to fifty lines; a few relative to Painting have since been added.

And grace obeys fair Damer's soft controul
Through many a varied lineament of soul;
Yet, oh! unlike each nobler Grecian form,

With strength majestic or with beauty warm,

Where all her mingling charms Expression pour'd, Admir'd by Valour, or by Love ador'd!

Lo! where retiring Venus shuns the

eye,

And beauty vies with bashful majesty !
There mortal charms in loveliest union shine,
And all the Goddess crowns the bright design.
Thou, too, half-hid beneath thy dripping veil
Of many a moisten'd tress, Urania, hail!

To thee that dubious mien the sculptor gave,
Fearing the shore, though shrinking from the wave.

Or see, where, graceful bending o'er his bow,
The quiver'd God's exulting features glow,
As, trusting to his arm's unerring might,
His look pursues the distant arrow's flight.

ARCHITECTURE, SCULPTURE, &c. 91

But shut, oh! shut the eye, where mid yon fold
Of crested snakes Laocoon writhes enroll'd,

And drinks with tortur'd ear his children's cries,
Embittering death's convulsive agonies!

Rise, slumbering Genius, and with throbbing heart Adore these trophies of unrivall❜d art;

Till each fine grace that gifted Masters knew
In fairy vision floating o'er thy view,
Perfection crown once more the living stone,

And Britain claim a Phidias of her own.

Not such the hopes that bless th' enthusiast's dream, While sad it wanders o'er each faded gleam,

That dimly shews to Painting's Muse was given
The sevenfold radiance of refulgent heaven,

When Genius stole the colours of the sun,

And pour'd them o'er the wreath that Valour won! Then turn the eye, where, spurning time's controul, Art stamps on stone the triumphs of the soul:

With trembling awe survey each hallow'd fane

Ennobling Greece and Desolation's reign;

Each pillar'd portico and swelling dome,

Proud o'er the prostrate majesty of Rome!

While o'er the scene each mould'ring temple throws, Sacred to Genius, undisturb'd repose;

Thro' twilight's doubtful gloom his eye shall trace The column's heightenwreath'd with clust'ring grace; The light-arch'd roof, the portal stretching-wide, Triumphal monuments in armed pride;

Till bold conceptions bursting on his heart,

His skill shall grasp the inmost soul of art;

And Fame's green isle her cloud-capt towers display,

I