Page:The Poems of John Dyer (1903).djvu/82

The throng of heroes in her splendid streets,
The snowy vest of peace, or purple robe,
Slow trail'd triumphal ? where the Attic Fleece,
And Tarentine, in warmest litter'd cots, 335
Or sunny meadows, cloth'd with costly care ?
All in the solitude of ruin lost,
War's horrid carnage, vain Ambition's dust.
Long lay the mournful realms of elder Fame
In gloomy desolation, till appear'd 340
Beauteous Venetia, first of all the nymphs
Who from the melancholy waste emerg'd :
In Adria's gulf her clotted locks she lav'd,
And rose another Venus : each soft joy,
Each aid of life, her busy wit restor'd ; 345
Science reviv'd, with all the lovely Arts,
And all the Graces. Restituted Trade
To every virtue lent his helping stores,
And cheer'd the vales around ; again the pipe
And bleating flocks awak'd the cheerful lawn. 350
The glossy Fleeces now, of prime esteem,
Soft Asia boasts, where lovely Cassimere,
Within a lofty mound of circling hills,
Spreads her delicious stores ; woods, rocks, caves, lakes,
Hills, lawns, and winding streams ; a region term'd 355
The Paradise of Indus. Next the plains
Of Lahor, by that arbour stretch'd immense,
Thro' many a realm, to Agra, the proud throne
Of India's worshipp'd prince, whose lust is law :
Remote dominions, nor to ancient fame 360
Nor modern known, till public-hearted Roe,
Faithful, sagacious, active, patient, brave,
Led to their distant climes advent'rous trade.
Add, too, the silky wool of Libyan lands,
Of Caza's bowery dales, and brooky Caus, 365
Where lofty Atlas spreads his verdant feet,