XL.

The heavens in still magnificence look down On the hush’d Bosphorus, whose ocean stream Sleeps with its paler stars: the snowy crown Of far Olympus,[212] in the moonlight gleam, Towers radiantly, as when the Pagan’s dream Throng’d it with gods, and bent th’ adoring knee; --But that is past--and now the One Supreme Fills not alone _those_ haunts, but earth, air, sea, And Time, which presses on to finish his decree.