"The Gods are not of Rome or Italy: They dwell in earth's abyss or with the stars, Their shrines are where we bring heroic hearts: Yet there are spots which to the minds of men Seem set apart for converse with the Gods. On temples by the sea our fancy roams To Hercules the Roamer: on high hills Astarte pours her radiance: Tanais bends Her bow in tempests, and the thunder hails Chrysaor's sword-flash. On this sultry marge Of nether night and Hades, let us bow Before the Powers of Silence, Death and Dreams; Of that chaotic Air that, o'er the deep Long brooding, brought forth lightnings in the sky; And of the Fires pent up, ere Æon rose, Parent of all our world, nor first nor last."