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What thou, in folemn filence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball?
What tho' nor real voice nor sound
Amid their radiant orbs be found?
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing, as they shine,
“ The hand that made us is divine."




From the FIRST BOOK.


OME, heav'nly muse, my raptur'd foul inspire,

Touch with one beam of thy celestial fire, A foul, that rising with sublime delight Leaves worlds behind in its aerial flight ; Mounts o'er the skies, unusual heights to soar, Where Young and Angels only flew before. I leave unheeded ev'ry mortal care, The victor's pomp, and all the scenes of war: A nobler aim invites my song to rise : No praise I fing, but his who form’d the skies: No scenes, but nature's burning vaults display'd; No pow'r, but that which wakes the sleeping dead. My theme how vast! the sun's extinguish'd rays ; Ten thousand stars in one devouring blaze ; That doom, the guilty wretch must dread to hear ; The last loud trump that stops the rolling sphere; The crowds that burst from earth's diffolving frame; All heaven descending, and a world on flame. O Thou, whose hands the bolted thunder form, Whose wings the whirlwind, and whose breath the storm: Tremendous God! this wond'ring bosom raise, And warm each thought that would attempt thy praise.

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O! while I mount along th’ etherial

way. To softer regions, and unclouded day, Pass the long tracks where darting lightnings glow, Or trembling view the boiling deeps below ; Lead thro' the dubious maze, direct the whole, Lend heav'nly aid to my transported foul, Teach ev'ry nobler power to guide my tongue, And touch the heart, while thou inspir'ft the song. 'Twas at the hour, when midnight ghosts affume Some frightful shape, and sweep along the gloom; When the pale spectre bursts upon the view; When fancy paints the fading taper blue; Wien smiling virtue refts, nor dreads a foe; And slumber shuts the weeping eyes of woe : 'Twas then, amid the filence of the night, A graceful seraph stood before my fight, And blaz'd meridian day—the rocking ground Flam'd as he mov’d, and totter'd as he frown'd. As some vaft meteor, whose expanded glare Shoots a long stream that brightens all the air, So flam'd his burning eyes :-earth heard and shools, When from his lips these dreadful accents broke : “ Now is that hour, when at th' Almighty's call,

Surrounding flames shall melt the yielding ball ; " When worlds must blaze amid the general fire, • And suns and stars with all their hosts expire. • The long-delay'd, th' important day is come, (All nature quake with terror at the doom.)

* For

« For which creation rose fupremely fair,
“ Each world was launch'd, and hung upon the air,
“ O'er fyftem fyftem roll do a shining throng,
“ And mov'd in silent harmony along.
“ That hour is come, when God himself shall rise,
« Sublime in wrath, and rend the burning skies ;
" Arrest the boundless planets, as they roll,

And burst the labouring earth from pole to pole ;
“ Bid hell's remote dominions hear and shake,
" While nature finks, and all the dead awake."
Warm'd as he spoke, I felt th' enliv'ning ray ;
Then loos'd from earth, triumphing foar'd away :
"We mount at once, and, lighter than the wind,
Left, as we flew, the distant clouds behind.
Then far remov'd beheld th' abodes below,
And wait in deep suspense the impending blow.
Now o'er the brightning east Aurora spread,
And ting'd the blushing cloud with morning red;
The hill's proud fummit caught the waving gleam :
The pale ray trembled on the quiv'ring stream;
Then opening gradual from the shades of night
The cloud-topt forest thone with dawning light;
Serene the beauteous landscape rose to view,
The mead's green mantle wet with spangling dew,
The gay-rob'd flow'rs that glow'd with heighten'd

And bow'ring dales, and groves that breath'd perfume.
So when the tempest's sweepy blast is o'er,
Nor bursts the rushing wind, nor prattling show'r :


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No hov'ring milt obscures th' emerging day,
Wide o'er the prospect pours the streamy ray;
A fresher cloud the dewy fields exhale,
With richer fragrance blows the balmy gale,
The echoing hills with louder notes rebound,
And all th' illumin'd landscape rings around,
Charm'd and surpriz'd we saw the fair abode,
The plains with beauty's flow'ry offspring strow'd,
Beheld the city's distant fpires arise,
Or tow'r’s dim top that touch'd the bending skies ;
Or view'd the wild, with trackless paths o'ercast,
Where roams the lion thro' the naked waste;
Or pensive, ey'd the folitary pile
Where flits the night-bírd thro' the glimm'ring isle:
Struck deep with woe, we mark’d the domes o’erthrown
Where once the beauty bloom'd, the warrior shone;
We say Palmyra's mould’ring tow'rs decay'd,
The loose wall tott'ring o'er the trembling shade !
Or fall'n Persepolis that desert lay!
Or Balbec's fanes that catch'd the quiv'ring ray!
Vain pomp of pow'r !--now in the throne of kings
Shrieks the 'lone owl, the raven Makes her wings.
Then o’er the boundless deeps our eyes were rolld,
The waves all brightning flam'd with beamy gold.
Here mov'd in gradual rows the billows heave,
There on the rough rock foams the madning wave,
Or dash the torrents down the cliff's steep side,
Or thru' the cavern sweeps the rushing tide ;



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