"Twas in the age when Arts and Peace
Revived once more in mighty Greece
When Fame forsook the camp and blade,
And turned from purple fields to wreathe
Her meeds again for those who bade
brache,
The canvass glow, the mar
"Twas in this age Melonian stod
The highest in his sculpture art;
Known as the great, loved as the good;
With hand but rivalled by his heart:
His was the power to wake the gaze,
Yielding the spirit's speechless praise —
His was the spell that flings control
Over the eye, breast, brain, and soul;
Chaining our senses to the stone
Till we becom
As fixed and dumb
As the cold form we look upon.
Melonian was about to leave
His idol toil one summer eve.