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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