84 GRAY
'Girt with many a baron bold Sublime their starry fronts they rear;
And gorgeous dames, and statesmen old In bearded majesty, appear. In the midst a form divine ! Her eye proclaims her of the Briton-line : Her lion-port, her awe-commanding face Attempered sweet to virgin grace. What strings symphonious tremble in the air,
What strains of vocal transport round her play? Hear from the grave, great Taliessin, hear;
They breathe a soul to animate thy clay. Bright Rapture calls and, soaring as she sings, Waves in the eye of Heaven her many-coloured wings.
'The verse adorn again
Fierce War and faithful Love And Truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.
In buskined measures move Pale Grief and pleasing Pain, With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast. A voice as of the cherub-choir
Gales from blooming Eden bear,
And distant warblings lessen on my ear That lost in long futurity expire. Fond impious man, think'st thou yon sanguine cloud,
Raised by thy breath, has quenched the orb of day? To-morrow he repairs the golden flood
And warms the nations with redoubled ray. Enough for me : with joy I see
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