XCI.

Yet to the remnants of thy Splendour past[gb]

Shall pilgrims, pensive, but unwearied, throng;

Long shall the voyager, with th' Ionian blast,[198]

Hail the bright clime of Battle and of Song:

Long shall thine annals and immortal tongue

Fill with thy fame the youth of many a shore;

Boast of the agéd! lesson of the young!

Which Sages venerate and Bards adore,

As Pallas and the Muse unveil their awful lore.

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