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From the FIRST BOOK.

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


Touch with one beam of thy celestial fire,

A foul, that rifing with fublime delight
Leaves worlds behind in its aerial flight;
Mounts o'er the skies, unusual heights to foar,
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 Ifing, but his who form'd the skies:
No fcenes, but nature's burning vaults difplay'd;
No pow'r, but that which wakes the sleeping dead.
My theme how vaft! the fun's extinguish'd rays;
Ten thousand stars in one devouring blaze;
That doom, the guilty wretch muft dread to hear;
The last loud trump that flops the rolling sphere;
The crouds that burft from earth's diffolving frame;
All heaven descending, and a world on flame.

Thou, whofe hands the bolted thunder form,

Whose wings the whirlwind, and whofe breath the




Tremendous God! this wond'ring bofom raife,

And warm each thought that would attempt thy praife. O! while I mount along th' etherial way,

To fofter regions, and unclouded day,

Pafs 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 infpir'ft the song. 'Twas at the hour, when midnight ghofts affume Some frightful fhape, and sweep along the gloom; When the pale spectre bursts upon the view; When fancy paints the fading taper blue; When fmiling virtue refts, nor dreads a foe; And flumber shuts the weeping eyes of woe: "Twas then, amid the filence of the night, A graceful feraph ftood 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 fome vaft meteor, whofe expanded glare Shoots a long ftream that brightens all the air, So flam'd his burning eyes:-earth heard and shook When from his lips thefe dreadful accents broke: "Now is that hour, when at th' Almighty's call, "Surrounding flames fhall melt the yielding ball; "When

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"When worlds muft blaze amid the general fire, "And funs and ftars with all their hofts expire. "The long-delay'd, th' important day is come,

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(All nature quake with terror at the doom.) "For which creation rofe fupremely fair,

"Each world was launch'd, and hung upon the air,
"O'er fyftem fyftem roll'd, a fhining throng,
"And mov'd in filent harmony along.

"That hour is come, when God himself shall rife,
"Sublime in wrath, and rend the burning skies;
"Arrest the boundless planets, as they roll,
"And burft 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 diftant clouds behind.
Then far remov'd beheld th' abodes below,
And wait in deep fufpenfe the impending blow.
Now o'er the brightning eaft Aurora fpread,
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 ftream;
Then opening gradual from the fhades of night
The cloud-topt foreft fhone with dawning light';


Serene the beauteous landscape rofe to view,

The mead's green mantle wet with fpangling 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 tempeft's sweepy blast is o'er,

Nor burfts the rushing wind, nor prattling fhow'r :
No hov'ring mift obfcures th' emerging day,
Wide o'er the profpect pours the ftreamy 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 furpriz'd we faw the fair abode,
The plains with beauty's flow'ry offspring strow'd,
Beheld the city's diftant fpires arife,

Or tow'r's dim top that touch'd the bending skies;
Or view'd the wild, with tracklefs paths o'ercaft,
Where roams the lion thro' the naked waste;
Or penfive, ey'd the folitary pile

Where flits the night-bird thro' the glimm'ring ifle:
Struck deep with woe, we mark'd the domes o'erthrown
Where once the beauty bloom'd, the warrior shone;
We faw Palmyra's mould'ring tow'rs decay'd,
The loose wall tott'ring o'er the trembling shade!

Or fall'n Persepolis that defert 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 shakes her wings.
Then o'er the boundless deeps our eyes were roll'd,
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 fteep fide,
Or thro' the cavern sweeps the rushing tide;
We mark'd the river's long majestic train,
And streams that murmur'd o'er the flow'ry plain,
The lake whose waves with lucid radiance glow,
Not finer tints imprefs the fhow'ry bow,

The fountain bubbling thro' the moss-clad hill,
And wand'ring wild the fweetly-tinkling rill.
Then o'er the champaign's broider'd lawns we ftray,
Where gaily warbling thrill'd the woodland lay,
Survey'd with rapture all th' inviting scene,
The vary'd landscape, and the vivid green;
A charming train of all the mufes themes,

Gay meads, and pointed rocks, and purling streams
Hills, vales, and woods in fweet diforder fpread,
And blooming fields in all their pomp difplay'd.
Still at each look, (amid the countless store)
We mark'd fome feature unobferv'd before;


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