XCV.

Wert thou some spirit of a purer sphere But once beheld, and never to return? No--we may hail again thy bright career, Again on earth a kindred fire shall burn! Though thy least relics, e’en in ruin, bear A stamp of heaven, that ne’er hath been renew’d-- A light inherent--let not man despair: Still be hope ardent, patience unsubdued; For still is nature fair, and thought divine, And art hath won a world in models pure as thine.[52]