There British Arthur seeks his share of fame,
    And three Caesarian victors join their claim;
    One from the race of Libya, one from Spain,
    And last, not least, the pride of fair Lorraine,
    With his twelve noble peers.  Goffredo’s powers
    Direct their march to Salem’s sacred towers;
    And plant his throne beneath the Asian skies,
    A sacred seat that now neglected lies. 
    Ye lords of Christendom! eternal shame
    For ever will pursue each royal name,
    And tell your wolfish rage for kindred blood,
    While Paynim hounds profane the seat of God! 
    With him the Christian glory seem’d to fall,
    The rest was hid behind oblivion’s pall;
    Save a few honour’d names, inferior far
    In peace to guide, or point the storm of war. 
    Yet e’en among the stranger tribes were found
    A few selected names, in song renown’d. 
    First, mighty Saladin, his country’s boast,
    The scourge and terror of the baptized host. 
    Noradin, and Lancaster fierce in arms,
    Who vex’d the Gallic coast with long alarms. 
    I look’d around with painful search to spy
    If any martial form should meet my eye
    Familiar to my sight in worlds above,
    The willing objects of respect or love;
    And soon a well-known face my notice drew,
    Sicilia’s king, to whose sagacious view
    The scenes of deep futurity display’d
    Their birth, through coming Time’s disclosing shade. 
    There my Colonna, too, with glad surprise,
    ’Mid the pale group, assail’d my startled eyes. 
    His noble soul was all alive to fame,
    Yet holy friendship mix’d her softer claim,
    Which in his bosom fix’d her lasting throne,
    With Charity, that makes the wants of all her own.

    BOYD.

PART III.

Io non sapea da tal vista levarme.

      Still on the warrior band I fix’d my view,
    But now a different troop my notice drew: 
    The sage Palladian tribe, a nobler train,
    Whose toils deserve a more exalted strain. 
    Plato majestic in the front appear’d,
    Where wisdom’s sacred hand her ensign rear’d. 
    Celestial blazonry! by heaven bestow’d,
    Which, waving high, before the vaward glow’d: 
    Then came the Stagyrite, whose mental ray
    Pierced through all nature like the shafts of day;
    And he that, by the unambitious name,
    Lover of wisdom, chose to bound his fame. 
    Then Socrates and Xenophon were seen;
    With them a bard of more than earthly mien,
    Whom every muse of Jove’s immortal choir
    Bless’d with a portion of celestial fire: 
    From ancient Argos to the Phrygian bound
    His never-dying strains were borne around
    On inspiration’s wing, and hill and dale
    Echoed the notes of Ilion’s