Stretch'd out above, where worlds unnumber'd roll
Each above each, in beauteous order rang'd! Amazing theatre! how vaft the power
Of that creating hand, which fpread fo wide The ample vault where stars and planets blaze! Immeasurably wide to human eye;
To his, who views creation at one glance, Pervades the universe, a point, a grain, That dwindles into nothing when furvey'd ; Tho' high in power, yet, ah! to wretched man, Diftain'd with guilt, his mercy's more fublime.
Gazing yon golden heavens, what object first Attracts our wonder? See the radiant fun, High in his bright pavillion thron'd, begins His rapid progrefs from the eastern sky, Flaming from world to world, 'till now his beams Are quench'd and loft beneath the western main. The clouds, thofe floating curtains that obfcure His light a-while, drove backward by his rays, As he approaches near their skirts, retire:
Glorious, and with superior brightness crown'd, See with what awful majefty he treads
Heaven's chrystal floor, and, with a bridegroom's pride,
Gayly refulgent pours from out his urn A golden vivid flood of light and day.
Mark all the beauteous fcenes, altho' refin'd By art's foft pencil; fay, can these compare, These touch the fancy, or the raptur'd eye, Like the bright openings of a funny morn? All the rich pomp which theatres display, Their fhining ornaments, the luftres hung In the proud courts and palaces of kings, Lose their diminish'd light, and die away, Whene'er the fun unfolds his radiant beams.
What bleffings does this bounteous planet pour 'On the glad heart of man, when rolling round His azure road he scatters as he flies,
To warm his raptur'd bofom, light, and joy.
What would the world's benighted realms appear,
What cells of gloomy darkness, if bereav'd Of the fun's chearing rays, its fairest scenes Loft in obfcurity, in fhades conceal'd?
In vain, alas! in midnight's fable gloom We turn our darken'd eyes in hopes to gaze The beauteous face of nature, all around
A dreary wafte, a chaos void, and wild,
And formless, till the hour of morn returns, Unbars the gates of light, and opens wide A profpect to the eye, which now unfolds Ten thousand beauteous fcenes which lay conceal'd Before in darkness: now the radiant heavens Glitter, with azure pav'd, with roses ftrew'd. With lively verdure each green plain array'd, Each flower puts on a glow of richest hue; The wide creation now is feen adorn'd,
In all her rich attire and beauties drefs'd,
View'd by each wondering eye with raptur'd joy. The earth we tread, without th' enlivening beams
Shot from the cheering fun's refreshing urn,
How gloomy, how forlorn? a lifeless mass, A clod of barren, dull, unactive clay! What tree could then its verdant leaves unfold To gratify the eye? what plant disclose The buds juft opening all their gloffy flowers? No more fhould we behold the verdant meads All mantled o'er with green, no more furvey The fmiling vales all crown'd with golden stores Of loaded harvests.---Fruitful orb, thy beams Have power to penetrate the glebe and clothe
Each vegetable tribe: the fpring is thine,
Thine the rich autumn; 'tis thy kindly ray
That fwells the generous vine, whose genial heat Ferments its juices, bids the wine-press flow, And bends its branches with their yellow load: Nor to earth's upper regions is confin'd Thy falutary power; dark caverns, spread In nature's deep recesses, hail thy beams, Which fructify the shining beds of ore, Unfold the faphire's luftre, and bestow Its brightness on the brilliant, pouring light And luftre on the ripening feeds of gold. All nature feels, and joys to feel thy power; Chear'd by thy beams creation's ample sphere.
Not fruitless only, but unchearing, mourn The gloomy regions when the fun withdraws His vigorous influence; how gay the morn When that aufpicious fovereign of the day, Mounted upon his radiant throne, displays His beams around, diffufing as he rolls Richness and beauty to the worlds below. Creation now, enliven'd by his rays,
Or with his gifts enrich'd, puts on a fmile;
While millions of gay glitt❜ring infects wake Into new life, and bask within his beams.
Now from their flumbers ftart the tuneful choir, Pour out their fouls in harmony, and breathe Their morning mattins to falute the day, And hail the welcome bleffing, which inspires
The early fong, when from their turf they rise: With rural music every valley rings,
Each mountain ecchoing back the artless strains; All vocal nature joins the general joy.
No breath untaught to celebrate and praise
Thy chearing influence, fovereign of the sky!
But fee! the scene how chang'd----his radiant orb Eclips'd but for a moment nature pines, Puts on a robe of fadness, to bemoan
His lamp in darkness loft, extin&t his flame; While the fad penfive heavens a dress affume Of fable mourning to behold the sky Without a beam----night rushing on the day. Th' aspiring lark forgets his morning fong, And, fhooting downward from the darken'd sky, Pines on his dewy neft; the voice of joy
Is heard no more, while roaming for their prey
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