When the Almighty did on Horeb stand, Thy shades enclos'd the hallow'd land; And venerable darkness his pavilion made. When he appear'd arm'd in his power and might, He veil'd the beatific light; When terrible with majesty, In tempests he gave laws, and clad himself in thee. Ere the foundation of the earth was laid, Or brighter firmament was made ; Ere matter, time, or place was known, Thou, Monarch Darkness, sway'dst these spacious realms alone. But now the moon (tho' gay with borrow'd light) Invades thy scanty lot of Night: By rebel subjects thou'rt betray'd, The anarchy of stars depose their monarch, Shade. Yet fading Light its empire must resign, And Nature's power submit to thine: And universal ruin shall erect thy throne, And Fate confirm thy kingdom evermore thy own. ODE TO TIME. Occasioned by seeing the Ruins of an old Castle. THOU who, mid the world-involving gloom, Or slowly shak'st the sounding dome, Or hear'st the wildly warbling lyre; Say, when thy musing soul Bids distant times unroll, And marks the flight of each revolving year That saw the race of Glory run, Cast o'er yon trackless waste thy wandering eye: Hung wildly waving to the rustling gale; I. 3. Ye wilds where heaven-wrapt Fancy roves! When darkness wraps the boundless spheres, [years? That mourns the ceaseless lapse of life-consuming II. 1. O call the inspiring glorious hour to view, From yon steep rock's high-arching brow Pour'd on the heart-struck flying Dane! Hung o'er the trembling rear ; When light-heel'd Terror wing'd their headlong flight: Her wings were ting'd with spangling gold, And warm'd the bounding heart, and rous'd the soul of fight. II. 2. But, ah! what hand the smiling prospect brings? What voice recals the expiring day? See, darting swift on eagle-wings, In mantling gold array'd, While bright-ey'd Fancy stands in sweet surprise: The vale where musing Quiet treads, The flower-clad lawns, and bloomy meads, Some cloud sweeps shadowy o'er the dusky skies, And wraps the flying scene, that fades, and swims, and dies. II. 3. Lo! rising from yon dreary tomb, With haggard eyes, and vissage pale, Slowly moves the solemn train; And eyes that blast the sickening moon! Yet these, ere Time had roll'd their years away, Ere Death's fell arm had mark'd its aim; Rul'd yon proud towers with ample sway, Beheld the trembling swains obey : And wrought the glorious deed that swell'd the trump of Fame. III. 1. But why o'er these indulge the bursting sigh? What fanes, what towers o'erthrown, Old Ruin shakes the hanging wall! Yon waste where roaming lions howl, Yon aisle where moans the grey-ey'd owl, His power-clad arm controll'd each happier clime, Where sports the warbling Muse, and Fancy soars sublime. III. 2. Hark! what dire sound rolls murm'ring on the gale? Ah! what soul-thrilling scene appears? I see the column'd arches fail! And structures hoar, the boast of * Persepolis. years ! What mouldering piles decay'd Gleam thro' the moon-streak'd shade, Where Rome's proud Genius rear'd her awful brow! Rolls on the dust, and pours a tear; And Courage beats his sobbing breast; Ev'n War's red cheek the gushing streams o'erflow, And Fancy's listening ear attends the plaint of Woe. III. 3. Lo, on yon pyramid sublime, Whence lies Old Egypt's desert clime, O'er his scythe he bends; his hand And sap the works of man; and shade Thence rolls the mighty power his broad survey, He sees proud Grandeur's meteor-ray ; He yields to Joy the festive day; Then sweeps the lengthening shade, and marks them for the tomb. |