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VERSES
WRITTEN AT SUN-RISE . LOST is the empire of the night 1 No longer now her awful shade Usurps the boundless realms of light 3 In splendour is "he east array'd I Ah ! see the sick ' ning moon retire
Far in the west , with languid face , As light which , borrow'd from the fire ^ Is lost in its more fulgent blaze . Hail ! infinite , exhaustless source Of light !—of life and joy , the soul ! By whose attractive , secret , force ,
The systems in gradation roil ! The seasons thy just influence sways '; Mild and serene now is the morn ;—» Fair Nature's face thy cheering rays With gilded prospers now adorn . How sadhow desolate the plain
, , How lonesome is each shady bow ' r J Dread silence and confusion reign , Without th y all-enliv'ning pow ' r ! ? But , rous'd by thee from sweet repose , The cheerful swains their toil renew 3 The shepherd from his cot now goes
, Again his flocks and herds to view . O sweetest of revolving hours , That can our wand ' ring thoughts beguile i Refreshing gales ! sweet-scented flow ' rs !—Creation , gladden'd , wears a smile !
Transient indeed , and short's the span To us allotted here below I Yet ah ! how little doth proud man The sweets of life incline to knowl For you , inglorious sons of ease , In vain the flow ' rs their fragrance yield !
In vain Hygeia fans the breeze , While bounteous Nature clothes the field 1 Creation ' s beauties to expound—1 What mind the noble task can boast ? The philosophic eye looks round , And in the boundless maze is lost I Purham , June 24 . 2796 . J . M'DONELD ,
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Verses
VERSES
WRITTEN AT SUN-RISE . LOST is the empire of the night 1 No longer now her awful shade Usurps the boundless realms of light 3 In splendour is "he east array'd I Ah ! see the sick ' ning moon retire
Far in the west , with languid face , As light which , borrow'd from the fire ^ Is lost in its more fulgent blaze . Hail ! infinite , exhaustless source Of light !—of life and joy , the soul ! By whose attractive , secret , force ,
The systems in gradation roil ! The seasons thy just influence sways '; Mild and serene now is the morn ;—» Fair Nature's face thy cheering rays With gilded prospers now adorn . How sadhow desolate the plain
, , How lonesome is each shady bow ' r J Dread silence and confusion reign , Without th y all-enliv'ning pow ' r ! ? But , rous'd by thee from sweet repose , The cheerful swains their toil renew 3 The shepherd from his cot now goes
, Again his flocks and herds to view . O sweetest of revolving hours , That can our wand ' ring thoughts beguile i Refreshing gales ! sweet-scented flow ' rs !—Creation , gladden'd , wears a smile !
Transient indeed , and short's the span To us allotted here below I Yet ah ! how little doth proud man The sweets of life incline to knowl For you , inglorious sons of ease , In vain the flow ' rs their fragrance yield !
In vain Hygeia fans the breeze , While bounteous Nature clothes the field 1 Creation ' s beauties to expound—1 What mind the noble task can boast ? The philosophic eye looks round , And in the boundless maze is lost I Purham , June 24 . 2796 . J . M'DONELD ,