Restored him to a heavenly Venus’ lap.
Yet far more blest, that in thy fane repose
Italia’s buried glories! all, perchance,
She e’er may boast! since o’er the barrier frail
Of Alpine rocks the o’erwhelming tide of fate
Hath swept in mighty wreck her arms—her wealth—
Altars—and country—and save memory—all!
Where from past fame springs hope of future deeds,
In daring minds, for Italy enslaved
Draw we our auspices. Around these tombs