Lovers and foes alike; workers of good,
And guilty wretches:—then the statesman’s brain,
Stopp’d in its calculation, and the bard
Sunk by his lyre;—the loud procession
Before the Temple—all the cares of life,
With action and contrivance, through the streets
Thronged multitudinous, in their busy time
Of bustle and magnificence,—and all
Life’s thousands were abroad, and the high sounds
Of civic pomp rose audible from far:—