Seem like some world, so perfect and so fair,

That nought of earth should find admittance there,

Some sphere, where beings, to mankind unknown,

Dwell in the brightness of their pomp alone!

Hence, ye vain fictions! fancy’s erring theme!

Gods of illusion! phantoms of a dream!

Frail, powerless idols of departed time,

Fables of song, delusive, though sublime!

To loftier tasks has Roman Art assign’d

Her matchless pencil, and her mighty mind!