The pomp of senates swept its pedestal,
And kings of many an Oriental name
Have seen its shadow, and are perish'd all!
XIV.
Haply it stood on that illustrious ground
Where circling columns once, in sculptur'd pride,
With fine volute or wreath'd acanthus crown'd,
Rear'd some light roof by Anio's plunging tide;
There, in the brightness of the votive fane
To rural or to vintage gods addrest,