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Say, why was man so eminently raised,
As in a boundless theatre, to run
The great career of justice; to exalt
His generous aim to all diviner deeds;
To chase each partial purpose from his breast,
To hold his course unfaltering.—AKENSIDE.
THE world has seen much change; yet here art thou,
To Nature's Deity, how vast the scene!
The loveliest works of God-the grandest here are seen!
Here from our slumbers light we rise to feel
That was, that is, and shall for ever be.
Blest emblems of his wisdom, power, and love, Pervading all things here-around, below, above.
The golden sun has colour'd all the woods! Fresh views succeed; each brighter than the last! There barren rocks are channell❜d by the floods, Here Flora's beauties cannot be surpast. Lausanne, a universe of charms thou hast! There Winter's fetter'd in his icy bed: Steeps rise o'er steeps immeasurably vast; While the rude crags projecting overhead, Strike in the stoutest hearts a momentary dread!
The ambitious rhododendron climbs the snow;
Pines darken round the mountain's sides; behold ! A thousand rills from icy caverns flow,
Rushing o'er rocks irregularly bold,
Where the tenacious sapling keeps its hold:
Below the dark stream with collected force,
Through the wide plains shapes its resistless course, As rude as Ocean's self-as grand as is its source.
Look on these glorious wonders! think of Him,
The soul, as if they form'd the world's extremest wall!
The prospect lengthens: far and far beneath
See cities, mansions, beautifully placed,
From cottages by greenest arbours graced.
The buoyancy of spirits-the wild hope Of something undefinable—the joy Of giving thus to all my feelings scope, Feelings, which man's injustice can't destroy,These bring back former years, and I'm a boy, Joyful as sailor in his bounding bark, Whose rapid course no sudden squalls annoy, Wild as the stag that spurns his narrow park, Light as the young chamois, blithe as the mountain lark!
Is not the soul immortal? Whence its thought?
Its vast capacity for good, if nought
Away, nor preach a doctrine such as this!
Where Mind perceives all things without a dark'ning cloud.
At Vevai lies our Ludlow: there he dwelt,
There Freedom woo'd him in her own sweet home,