LXXXIV.
Thou led’st the way to that illumined sphere
Where sovereign beauty dwells; and thence didst bear,
Oh, still triumphant in that high career!
Bright archetypes of all the grand and fair.
And still to thee th’ enlighten’d mind hath flown
As to her country,—thou hast been to earth
A cynosure,—and, e’en from victory’s throne,
Imperial Rome gave homage to thy worth;
And nations, rising to their fame afar,
Still to thy model turn, as seamen to their star.