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Still, like some broken gem, whose quenchless beam,
From each bright fragment pours its vital stream,
'Tis thine, by fate unconquered, to dispense
From every part, some ray of excellence!
E'en yet, informed with essence from on high,
Thine is no trace of frail mortality!
Within that frame a purer Being glows,
Thro' viewless veins a brighter current flows;
Filled with immortal life each muscle swells,
In every line supernal grandeur dwells.

    Consummate work! the noblest and the last,
^3[1] Of Grecian Freedom ere her reign was past.
Nurse of the mighty, she, while lingering still,
Her mantle flowed o'er many a classic hill,
Ere yet her voice its parting accents breathed,
A Hero's image to the world bequeathed;