ITH what attractive charms this goodly frame
Of nature touches the confenting hearts.
Of mortal men ; and what the pleasing stores
Which beauteous imitation thence derives
To deck the poet's, or the painter's toil;
My verfe unfolds. Attend, ye gentle powers
Of musical delight! and while I fing
Your gifts, your honours, dance around my strain.
Thou, fmiling queen of every tuneful breast,
Indulgent Fancy! from the fruitful banks
Of Avon, whence thy rofy fingers cull
Fresh flowers and dews to sprinkle on the turf
Where Shakespeare lies, be present and with thee'
Let Fiction come, upon her vagrant wings
Wafting ten thousand colours through the air,
Which, by the glances of her magic eye,
She blends and shifts at will, through countless forms,
Her wild creation. Goddess of the lyre,
Which rules the accents of the moving fphere,
Wilt thou, eternal Harmony! defcend
And join this festive train? for with thee comes
The guide, the guardian of their lovely sports,
Majeftic Truth; and where Truth deigns to come,
Her fifter Liberty will not be far.
Be prefent all ye Genii, who conduct
The wandering footsteps of the youthful bard,
New to your springs and shades: who touch his ear With finer founds who heighten to his eye
The bloom of nature, and before him turn
The gayeft, happiest attitude of things.
Oft have the laws of each poetic strain
The critic-verse employ'd; yet still unfung
Lay this prime fubject, though importing most
A Poet's name for fruitless is the attempt,
By dull obedience and by creeping toil
Obfcure to conquer the fevere afcent
Of high Parnaffus. Nature's kindling breath
Muft fire the chofen genius; nature's hand
Must string his nerves, and imp his eagle-wings
Impatient of the painful steep, to foar
High as the fummit; there to breathe at large
Ætherial air; with bards and fages old,
Immortal fons of praife. Thefe flattering fcenes,
To this neglected labour court my song;
Yet not unconfcious what a doubtful tafk
To paint the finest features of the mind,
And to moft fubtle and mysterious things
Give colour, ftrength, and motion. But the love
Of Nature and the Mufes bids explore,
Through fecret paths erewhile untrod by man,
The fair poetic region, to detect
Untafted fprings, to drink infpiring draughts,
And shade my temples with unfading flowers
Cull'd from the laureate vale's profound recefs,
Where never poet gain'd a wreath before.
From heaven my ftrains begin; from heaven defcends The flame of genius to the human breast,
And love and beauty, and poetic joy
And inspiration. Ere the radiant fun
Sprang from the east, or 'mid the vault of night
The moon fufpended her ferener lamp;
Ere mountains, woods, or ftreams, adorn'd the globe,
Or wisdom taught the fons of men her lore;
Then liv'd the almighty One: then, deep-retir'd
In his unfathom'd effence, view'd the forms,
The forms eternal of created things;
The radiant fun, the moon's nocturnal lamp,
The mountains, woods, and streams, the rowling globe,
And wifdom's mien celeftial. From the first
Of days, on them his love divine he fix'd,
His admiration till in time compleat,
What he admir'd and lov'd, his vital smile
Unfolded into being. Hence the breath
Of life informing each organic frame,
Hence the green earth, and wild refounding waves; 75 Hence light and fhade alternate; warmth and cold; And clear autumnal fkies and vernal showers,
And all the fair variety of things.
But not alike to every mortal eye
Is this great scene unveil'd. For fince the claims 80
Of focial life, to different labours urge
The active powers of man; with wife intent
The hand of nature on peculiar minds
Imprints a different byafs, and to each
Decrees its province in the common toil.
To fome she taught the fabric of the sphere,
The changeful moon, the circuit of the stars,
The golden zones of heaven: to some she gave
To weigh the moment of eternal things,
Of time, and space, and fate's unbroken chain,
And will's quick impulfe: others by the hand
She led o'er vales and mountains, to explore
What healing virtue fwells the tender veins
Of herbs and flowers; or what the beams of morn
Draw forth, diftilling from the clifted rind
In balmy tears. But fome, to higher hopes
Were deftin'd; fome within a finer mould
She wrought, and temper'd with a purer flame.
To these the Sire Omnipotent unfolds
The world's harmonious volume, there to read
The tranfcript of himself. On every part
They trace the bright impreffions of his hand :
In earth or air, the meadow's purple ftores,
The moon's mild radiance, or the virgin's form
Blooming with rofy fmiles, they see portray'd
That uncreated beauty, which delights
The mind fupreme. They alfo feel her charms,
Enamour'd; they partake the eternal joy.
For as old Memnon's image, long renown'd
By fabling Nilus, to the quivering touch:
Of Titan's ray, with each repulfive ftring
Confenting, founded through the warbling air
Unbidden forains; even fo did nature's hand
To certain species of external things,
Attune the finer organs of the mind:
So the glad impulfe of congenial powers,
Or of fweet found, or fair proportion'd form,
grace of motion, or the bloom of light,
Thrills through imagination's tender frame,
From nerve to nerve: all naked and alive
They catch the spreading rays: till now the foul
At length discloses every tuneful spring,
To that harmonious movement from without
Refponfive. Then the inexpreffive strain
Diffufes its inchantment: fancy dreams
Of facred fountains and Elyfian groves,
And vales of blifs: the intellectual power
Bends from his awful throne a wondering ear,
And fmiles: the paffions, gently footh'd away,
Sink to divine repofe, and love and joy
Alone are waking; love and joy, ferene
As airs that fan the fummer.
Whoe'er thou art, whom these delights can touch,
Whofe candid bofom the refining love
Of nature warms, O! liften to my fong;
And I will guide thee to her favourite walks,
And teach thy folitude her voice to hear,
And point her lovelieft features to thy view.
Know then, whate'er of nature's pregnant stores,
Whate'er of mimic art's reflected forms
With love and admiration thus inflame
The powers of fancy, her delighted fons
To three illuftrious orders have referr’d;
Three fifter-graces, whom the painter's hand,
The poet's tongue, confeffes; the fublime,
The wonderful, the fair. I fee them dawn!
fee the radiant vifions, where they rife,
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