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HENCE, to the realms of Night, dire Demon,

hence!

Thy chain of adamant can bind

That little world, the human mind,

And fink its nobleft powers to impotence.
Wake the lion's loudeft roar,

Clot his fhaggy mane with gore,

With flashing fury bid his eye-balls shine;

Meek is his favage, fullen foul to thine!

Thy touch, thy deadening touch, has fteel'd the

breast, 1

Where, thro' her rainbow-fhower, foft Pity fmil'd; Has clos'd the heart each godlike virtue bleft,

To all the filent pleadings of his child.

At thy command he plants the dagger deep,

At thy command exults, tho' Nature bids him weep!

I. 2.

When, with a frown that froze the peopled earth, 2

Thou dartedft thy huge head from high,

Night wav'd her banners o'er the sky,

And, brooding, gave her fhapeless shadows birth.

Rocking on the billowy air,

Ha! what withering phantoms glare!

As blows the blaft with many a fudden swell,

At each dead paufe, what fhrill-ton'd voices yell!

The sheeted spectre, rifing from the tomb,

Points at the murderer's ftab, and fhudders by; In every grove is felt a heavier gloom,

That veils its genius from the vulgar eye;

The spirit of the water rides the storm,

And, thro' its mist, reveals the terrors of his form.

I. 3.

O'er folid feas, where Winter reigns,

And holds each mountain-wave in chains, The fur-clad favage, ere he guides his deer 3 By gliftering moon-light thro' the fnow,

Breathes foftly in her wondering ear'
Each. potent spell thou badft him know.
By thee infpir'd, on India's fands, 4
Full in the fun the Bramin ftands;
And, while the panting tigress hies
To quench her fever in the stream,
His fpirit laughs in agonies, 5

Smit by the fcorchings of the noontide beam.
Mark who mounts the facred pyre,

Blooming in her bridal vest :

She hurls the torch! fhe fans the fire!

To die is to be bleft:

She clafps her lord to part no more,
And, fighing, finks! but finks to foar.

O'erfhadowing Scotia's defert coast,
The Sifters fail in dusky state, 7

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