From “The Spectator” THE SPACIOUS firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim; The unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator’s power display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth; While all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball? What though no real voice or sound Amid their radiant orbs be found? In Reason’s ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, Forever singing, as they shine, “The hand that made us is divine!”
Ode: “The spacious firmament on high”
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From “The Spectator” THE SPACIOUS firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim; The unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator’s power display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand. Soon as the... |
From “Cato,” Act II. Sc. 1. MY voice is still for war. Gods! can a Roman senate long debate Which of the two to choose, slavery or death? No; let us rise at once, gird on our swords, And at the head of our remaining troops Attack the foe, break through the thick array Of his thronged legions,... |
From “Cato,” Act V. Sc. 1. SCENE.—CATO, sitting in a thoughtful posture, with Plato’s book on the Immortality of the Soul in his hand, and a drawn sword on the table by him. IT must be so—Plato, thou reasonest well!— Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after... |