Not e’en their dust could weeping Athens guard;
But these were destined to a nobler lot!
And they have borne, to light another land,
The quenchless ray that soon shall gloriously expand.
XCVIII.
Phidias! supreme in thought! what hand but thine,
In human works thus blending earth and heaven,
O’er nature’s truth had spread that grace divine,
To mortal form immortal grandeur given?
What soul but thine, infusing all its power