Foster’d by all the sculptor and the bard
Could give of immortality below.
Thus were thy heroes form’d, and o’er their name,
Thus did thy genius shed imperishable fame.
LXXVIII.
Mark in the throng’d Ceramicus, the train
Of mourners weeping o’er the martyr’d brave:
Proud be the tears devoted to the slain,
Holy the amaranth strew’d upon their grave![45]
And hark! unrivall’d eloquence proclaims