It is from Homer's Odyssey.

I will translate it, as well as I can extempore, into a measure which gives a better idea of Homer's manner than Pope's singsong couplet.
For not, be sure, within the grave Is hid that prince, the wise, the brave; But in an islet's narrow bound, With the great Ocean roaring round, The captive of a foeman base He pines to view his native place.
There is a seat near the spot which is called Rogers's seat.

The poet loves, it seems, to sit there.

A very elegant inscription by Lord Holland is placed over it.
"Here Rogers sate; and here for ever dwell With me those pleasures which he sang so well." Very neat and condensed, I think.

Another inscription by Luttrell hangs there.