III. Now beyond earth's contracted goal On Contemplation's wings arife,. And mark the unnumber'd worlds that roll Their orbs ftupendous through the fkies. My eye the fplendid scene explores, And now my active fancy foars; To other funs, which far away On distant systems pour the blaze of day, Beyond where SATURN wheels his tedious flight Around our chearing fource of light. Forward in vain my restless thoughts I fend, They rush for ever on nor find an end, On every fide ftill open lie The boundless fields of vaft immenfity. Could then my voice celestial numbers fing, My hands ftrike rapture from the lyric ftring, Yet would my heart thofe numbers deem Unequal to the glorious theme; Unequal to exalt his holy name, 1 Whofe awful prefence guides the amazing frame; Who, of all nature's wide extent the foul, Exifts in every part, and animates the whole, ODE Now fhines DIANA's gentler ray With virgin majesty; Her face with milder glory bright Illumes the dusky fhades of night, And brings the varied scene to view. The glaffy lake, and bubbling stream, Again reflect the borrow'd beam, And take a filver hue. I. 2. B 3 I. 2. From the deep fhade of yonder trees The screaming night-birds call, While floats on ZEPHYR's balmy breeze The diftant waterfall: Sad PHILOMELA's warbling throat Pours to the moon her plaintive note And charms the lay-refounding grove, Where, trembling at the gentle gale, The verdant beech, and poplar pale, With ruftling murmurs move. 1. 3. What dreadful founds arife? These notes of rural mufic fink And fhrill-ton'd clarions rend the skies; The air a voice of triumph chears, And lo! a form divine appears On CHERWELL's fedgy brink. His azure length of robe behind Loofely wantons in the wind; Glowing like the vernal morning Beams benign his eye-balls fhed; CERES' wealth his brows adorning Shades his venerable head. Say heavenly vifion what these notes portend? Sits white-wing'd Victory on BRITANNIA's arms? Does proud IBERIA to her legions bend, Or flies the GAUL at GRANBY's dread alarms, Or ftalks on INDIA's fun-burn'd coafts afar The force of conflict keen, and giant rage of war? II. 1. Far hence,' he cried, the tumult's roar To diftant realms fhall fly : Mirth revels now on ALBION's fhore • With blythe festivity. < Ye B 4 |