Enough, enough!--such dismal scenes you paint, I almost shudder at the recollection.-- 425 What! are they dogs that they would mangle us?-- Are these the men that come with base design To rob the hive, and kill the industrious bee!-- To brighter skies I turn my ravished view, And fairer prospects from the future draw:-- 430 Here independent power shall hold her sway, And public virtue warm the patriot breast: No traces shall remain of tyranny, And laws, a pattern to the world beside, Be here enacted first.---- 435 _Acasto_ And when a train of rolling years are past, (So sung the exiled seer in Patmos isle) A new Jerusalem, sent down from heaven. Shall grace our happy earth,--perhaps this land, Whose ample bosom shall receive, though late, 440 Myriads of saints, with their immortal king, To live and reign on earth a thousand years, Thence called Millennium. Paradise anew Shall flourish, by no second Adam lost, No dangerous tree with deadly fruit shall grow, 445 No tempting serpent to allure the soul From native innocence.--A Canaan here, Another Canaan shall excel the old, And from a fairer Pisgah's top be seen. No thistle here, nor thorn, nor briar shall spring, 450 Earth's curse before: the lion and the lamb In mutual friendship linked, shall browse the shrub. And timorous deer with softened tygers stray O'er mead, or lofty hill, or grassy plain; Another Jordan's stream shall glide along, 455 And Siloah's brook in circling eddies flow: Groves shall adorn their verdant banks, on which The happy people, free from toils and death. Shall find secure repose. No fierce disease, No fevers, slow consumption, ghastly plague, 460 (Fate's ancient ministers) again proclaim Perpetual war with man: fair fruits shall bloom, Fair to the eye, and sweeter to the taste; Nature's loud storms be hushed, and seas no more Rage hostile to mankind--and, worse than all, 465 The fiercer passions of the human breast Shall kindle up to deeds of death no more, But all subside in universal peace.---- Such days the world, And such America at last shall have 470 When ages, yet to come, have run their round, And future years of bliss alone remain.