But see! each  in  Golden Days,
Starts from her Trance, and trims her wither'd Bays!
ancient  o'er its  spread,
Shakes off the Dust, and rears his rev'rend Head!
Then  and her  revive;
Stones leap'd to  and  began to ;
With  each  rung;
A  painted, and a  sung!
Immortal ! on whose honour'd Brow
The Poet's  and Critick's  grow:
now shall ever boast thy Name,
As next in Place to  next in Fame!