Our greatest bard to send thy praises forth; Thou, who gav’st ~NEWTON~ thought; who smil’dst serene, When to its bounds he stretch’d his swelling soul; Who still benignant ever blest his toil, And deign’d to his enlight’ned mind t’ appear Confess’d around th’ interminated world: To me O thy divine infusion grant (O thou in all so infinitely good) That I may sing thy everlasting works, Thy inexhausted store of providence, In thought effulgent and resounding verse. O could I spread the wond’rous theme around, Where the wind cools the oriental world, To the calm breezes of the Zephir’s breath, To where the frozen hyperborean blasts. To where the boist’rous tempest-leading south From their deep hollow caves send forth their storms. Thou still indulgent parent of mankind, Left humid emanations should no more Flow from the ocean, but dissolve away Through the long series of revolving time; And left the vital principle decay, By which the air supplies the springs of life; Thou hast the fiery visag’d comets form’d With vivifying spirits all replete, Which they abundant breathe about the void, Renewing the prolifick soul of things. No longer now on thee amaz’d we call, No longer tremble at imagin’d ills, When comets blaze tremendous from on high, Or when extending wide their flaming trains With hideous grasp the skies engirdle round, And spread the terrors of their burning locks. For these through orbits in the length’ning space Of many tedious rouling years compleat Around the sun move regularly on; And with the planets in harmonious orbs, And mystick periods their obeysance pay To him majestick ruler of the skies Upon his throne of circled glory fixt. He or some god conspicuous to the view, Or else the substitute of nature seems, Guiding the courses of revolving worlds. He taught great ~NEWTON~ the all-potent laws Of gravitation, by whose simple power The universe exists. Nor here the sage Big with invention still renewing staid. But O bright angel of the lamp of day, How shall the muse display his greatest toil? Let her plunge deep in Aganippe’s waves, Or in Castalia’s ever-flowing stream, That re-inspired she may sing to thee, How ~NEWTON~ dar’d advent’rous to unbraid The yellow tresses of thy shining hair. Or didst thou gracious leave thy radiant sphere, And to his hand thy lucid splendours give, T’ unweave the light-diffusing wreath, and part The blended glories of thy golden plumes? He with laborious, and unerring care, How different and imbodied colours form Thy piercing light, with just distinction found. He with quick sight pursu’d thy darting rays, When penetrating to th’ obscure recess Of solid matter, there perspicuous saw, How in the texture of each body lay The power that separates the different beams. Hence over nature’s unadorned face Thy bright diversifying rays dilate