Each thrills the seat of sense, that sacred source,

Whence the fine nerves direct their mazy course,

And thro' the frame invisibly convey

The subtle, quick vibrations as they play.

Survey the globe, each ruder realm explore;
From Reason's faintest ray to NEWTON soar.

What different spheres to human bliss assign'd!
What slow gradations in the scale of mind!
Yet mark in each these mystic wonders wrought;
Oh mark the sleepless energies of thought!

The adventurous boy, that asks his little share,

And hies from home, with many a gossip's prayer,

Turns on the neighbouring hill, once more to see

The dear abode of peace and privacy;

And as he turns, the thatch

among

the trees,

The smoke's blue wreaths ascending with the breeze,

The village-common spotted white with sheep,

The churchyard yews round which his fathers sleep; b

All rouse Reflection's sadly-pleasing train,

And oft he looks and weeps, and looks again.

с

So, when the mild TUPIA dar'd explore
Arts yet untaught, and worlds unknown before,
And, with the sons of Science, woo'd the gale,
That rising swell'd their strange expanse of sail;
So, when he breath'd his firm yet fond adieu, c
Borne from his leafy hut, his carv'd canoe,
And all his soul best lov'd, such tears he shed,
While each soft scene of summer-beauty fled:
Long o'er the wave a wistful look he cast,

Long watch'd the streaming signal from the mast;

Till twilight's dewy tints deceiv'd his eye,

And fairy forests fring'd the evening sky.

d

So Scotia's Queen, as slowly dawn'd the day, " Rose on her couch, and gaz'd her soul away.

Her eyes had bless'd the beacon's glimmering height,

That faintly tipt the feathery surge with light;

But now the morn with orient hues pourtray'd

Each castled cliff, and brown monastic shade:
All touch'd the talisman's resistless spring,

And lo, what busy tribes were instant on the wing!
Thus kindred objects kindred thoughts inspire,

As summer-clouds flash forth electric fire.

And hence this spot gives back the joys of youth,

Warm as the life, and with the mirror's truth.

Hence home-felt pleasure prompts the Patriot's sigh; f

This makes him wish to live, and dare to die.

For this FOSCARI, whose relentless fate %

Venice should blush to hear the Muse relate,

When exile wore his blooming years away,

To sorrow's long soliloquies a prey,

When reason, justice, vainly urg'd his cause,
For this he rous'd her sanguinary laws;

Glad to return, tho' Hope could grant no more,
And chains and torture hail'd him to the shore.

And hence the charm historic scenes impart:

Hence Tiber awes, and Avon melts the heart,

Aërial forms, in Tempe's classic vale,

Glance thro' the gloom, and whisper in the gale;

In wild Vaucluse with love and LAURA dwell,

And watch and weep in ELOISA's cell, h

"Twas ever thus. As now at VIRGIL's tomb, i

We bless the shade, and bid the verdure bloom: So TULLY paus'd, amid the wrecks of Time, * On the rude stone to trace the truth sublime;

When at his feet, in honour'd dust disclos'd,

The immortal Sage of Syracuse repos'd.

And as his youth in sweet delusion hung,

Where once a PLATO taught, a PINDAR sung;

Who now but meets him musing, when he roves His ruin'd Tusculan's romantic groves?

In Rome's great forum, who but hears him roll

His moral thunders o'er the subject soul?

And hence that calm delight the portrait gives:

We gaze on every feature till it lives!

Still the fond lover views the absent maid;

And the lost friend still lingers in his shade!

Say why the pensive widow loves to weep,'

When on her knee she rocks her babe to sleep:
Tremblingly still, she lifts his veil to trace

The father's features in his infant face.