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Emboss'd with stars, the glitt'ring gems of heav'n;
Still was the season ; solemn silence reign'd; Ev'n Philomel forgot her mournful tale, And hush'd in gentle rest, all nature lay! Only Celesto wak'd: long wrapt in thought The angel stood, and view'd the wond'rous scene. The wond'rous scene inspir'd devotion pure, And love and rapture glow'd within his breast; Love too intense, and rapture too divine
To be lock'd up in silence, from his side
Thou great omnipotent,
Thou Lord of earth and sky;
Adore thy majesty.
When I behold the sun,
The creature of thy pow'r,
I wonder and adore.
The moon and stars, by night,
In feebler glories shine ;
Thou source of light divine.
Thine everlasting praise
Seraphic armies sing,
Thou everlasting king.
Hail! holy, holy, Lord!
Thrice holy one in three; 'Thy boundless name be still ador'd,
But see, a beauteous form, with nimble step, Trips o'er the dewy green, and this way bends; A flowing robe hangs loosely o'er her limbs, By every breath of wanton zephyrs mov'd: A rosy chaplet, intermix'd with sprigs Of blooming myrtle, circles round her head, And in her face sits laughter uncontrol'd. All gay and sprightly, as the summer's sụn, Two nymphs attend her, and, with skilful hand, On pipe and tabor play, and, with their feet, Keep time and measure to the jocund sound.
Ah! fatal charmer! Ah! insidious fair! For all's a painted show, a hollow cheat : Long from her breast has virtue fled, and vice Reigns in her heart, and wantons in her eyes; Syren her name; by night she issues forth, And spreads her silken nets of gay delights, To catch unwary travellers, and such Who rove abroad unguarded and secure. Delusive flatt'ry hangs upon her tongue, And endless ruin follows in her train; Her steps lay hold on death, and all her paths, Though strewd with roses, lead directly down To the black chambers of eternal woe.
'Wake sleeping youth, awake, and see
In quick succession, round the sky.
Jocund sounds shall greet thine ear;
"Tis the chiefest end of man.
TE present moment seize, live while 'tis day,
What sounds melodious charm my waken'd ear! What heav'nly form art thou! if from the skies, But now descended to this earthly ball, Say, may a mortal ask (unblam'd) thy name! And what thy errand is to this low world! That with due rev'rence he may homage pay!
Not from the skies I come, I reign below,
Banish each care, and chace corroding thought,
Charmer! lead on! I feel thy sov'reign pow'r Inflame my heart, and from this happy hour Thy steps I follow.; thine, devoted live; And, from thy hand the great reward receive Thou on thy faithful subjects dost bestow, To make them happy, while they dwell below. Thy voice shall be my guide, thy smile my heav'n; I'll be content with that, let that be giv'n.
Take my hand, and take my heart,
Let the dreamers have their way,