Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears." III. 2. Nor second He, that rode sublime Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy, The secrets of th' abyss to spy. He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time : The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but, blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night. Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car, Wide o'er the fields of glory bear Two coursers of ethereal race, With necks in thunder cloth'd, and long-resounding pace. III. 3. Hark, his hands the lyre explore! Bright-eyed Fancy, hov'ring o'er, Scatters from her pictured urn Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. Oh! lyre divine, what daring spirit Wakes thee now? Tho' he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, That the Theban eagle bear, Sailing with supreme dominion Thro' the azure deep of air: Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray, With orient hues, unborrow'd of the sun : Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the Good how far-but far above the Great. RUIN seize thee, ruthless King! Tho' fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing, To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, He wound with toilsome march his long array. |