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(From The Triumph of Isis)
YE fretted pinnacles, ye fanes sublime, | |
| Ye towers that wear the mossy vest of time; | |
| Ye massy piles of old munificence, | |
| At once the pride of learning and defence; | |
| Ye cloisters pale, that, lengthening to the sight, | 5 |
| To contemplation, step by step, invite; | |
| Ye high-arched walks, where oft the whispers clear | |
| Of harps unseen have swept the poet’s ear; | |
| Ye temples dim, where pious duty pays | |
| Her holy hymns of ever-echoing praise;— | 10 |
| Lo! your loved Isis, from the bordering vale, | |
| With all a mother’s fondness, bids you hail!— | |
| Hail, Oxford, hail! of all that ’s good and great, | |
| Of all that ’s fair, the guardian and the seat; | |
| Nurse of each brave pursuit, each generous aim, | 15 |
| By truth exalted to the throne of fame! | |
| Like Greece in science and in liberty, | |
| As Athens learned, as Lacedemon free! | |
| Even now, confessed to my adoring eyes, | |
| In awful ranks thy gifted sons arise. | 20 |
| Tuning to knightly tale his British reeds, | |
| Thy genuine bards immortal Chaucer leads: | |
| His hoary head o’erlooks the gazing choir, | |
| And beams on all around celestial fire. | |
| With graceful step see Addison advance, | 25 |
| The sweetest child of Attic elegance: | |
| See Chillingworth the depths of doubt explore, | |
| And Selden ope the rolls of ancient lore: | |
| To all but his beloved embrace denied, | |
| See Locke lead Reason, his majestic bride: | 30 |
| See Hammond pierce Religion’s golden mine, | |
| And spread the treasured stores of truth divine. | |
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