So Truth proclaims. I hear the facred found Burst from the centre of the burning throne. Where aye fhe fits with ftar-wreath luftre crown'd, A bright fun clafps her adamantine zone. So Truth proclaims: her awful voice I hear, With many a folemn pause it slowly meets my ear. III. Attend, ye fons of men; attend, and say,” Does not enough of my refulgent ray Break thro' the veil of your mortality! Say does not reafon in this form defcry Unnumber'd, nameless glories, that surpass The Angel's floating pomp, the Seraph's glowing grace? IV. Shall then your earth-born daughters vie Whose melting voice the warbling woodlark's lays; Vie with these charms imperial? The poor worm Shall prove her contest vain. Life's little day ATHELWOLD had been guilty of a lye, that he might poffefs ELFRIDA. Shall pafs, and she is gone: while I appear, Flush'd with the bloom of youth thro' heav'n's Know, mortals, know; ere first ye fprung, I fhone amid the heav'nly throng. And taught Archangels their triumphant fong. VI. Laft, Man arose, erect in youthful grace, Thus the Almighty fpake: he fpake and call'd me TRUTH. ZAS IS SUPPOSED TO LIE ON THAMES, NEAR RICHMOND. I. N yonder grave a Druid lies I where fowly winds the stealing wave! The year's beft fweets fhall duteous rife II. In yon deep bed of whifp'ring reeds * That he, whofe heart in forrow bleeds May love thro' life the foothing fhade. STAN THE * The harp of ÆOLUS, of which fee a defcription in the CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. III. Then maids and youths fhall linger here, To hear the Woodland Pilgrim's knell. Remembrance oft fhall haunt the shore When Thames in fummer wreaths is dreft, And oft fufpend the dashing oar To bid his gentle spirit rest! V. And oft as Eafe and Health retire VI. But Thou, who own'ft that earthy bed, That mourn beneath the gliding fail! VII. Yet lives there one, whofe heedlefs eye Shall scorn thy pale shrine glimm'ring near? With him, fweet bard, may Fancy die, And Joy defert the blooming year. *RICHMOND Church. VIII. But thou, lorn Stream, whofe fullen tide And fee, the fairy valleys fade, Dun Night has veil'd the folemn view! Yet once again, dear parted Shade, Meek Nature's Child, again adieu! X. The genial meads affign'd to bless Thy life, fhall mourn thy early doom, Their hinds, and fhepherd-girls fhall dress With fimple hands thy rural tomb. XI. Long, long, thy ftone and pointed clay |