And fap the works of man ;-and fhade

With filver'd locks his furrow'd head;

Thence rolls the mighty Pow'r His broad furvey,
And feals the Nations awful doom;

He fees proud Grandeur's meteor-ray,

He yields to Joy the festive day,

Then sweeps the length'ning fhade, and marks them

for the tomb.

ODE

A.Walker delet foulp.

ODE to SLEEP.

S

I.

WEET God of ease, whose opiate breath
Pour'd gently o'er the heaving breast ;

Steals like the folemn hand of Death;

And sheds the balm of vifionary rest

Come with ev'ry pow'rful fpell
From the hermit's gloomy cell,

From the swallow's moffy bed,

When bleak Winter blafts the mead;

Come with Night's cold, cloudy brow,

With fky-rob'd Thought demure, and flow,

With Reft that charms the drowsy air,

And folds the wakeful eyes of melancholy Care.

2.

O by thy robe of pureft white,
Thy treffes bound with fun'ral yew,

Thy voice that foothes the ear of night,
Thine ebon' rod that fweeps the pearly dew;
By the pale moon's trembling beam,

By the ghofts on Lethe's stream;

By the filent folemn gloom,

By the beetle's drowsy hum,

By the zephyr's dying breath,

When fleeps the ruffled wave beneath :
By the long voice of murm'ring feas,

Lull cach repofing fenfe in calm oblivious ease!

RECITATIVE.

Pour on my foul the fweetly melting lay,

That once on Argus could prevail;

When footh'd by Hermes' wond'rous tale,
Each lift'ning fenfe diffolv'd and dy'd away :
Lull'd by the magic doubling found,
Slow-ftealing Slumber lock'd his iron breast;

His thoughts in sweet delirium drown'd,
His falling arms the God confeft;

་

On his numb'd ear remote and dull,
The hollow murmur feebly ftole;

O'erpower'd at laft he yields the beauteous prize,
And drops fupinely down, and folds an hundred eyes.

3.

Then too let bold-ey'd Fancy come,

With brightning look and bofom bare;
Her features flufh'd with vivid bloom,.

With flutt'ring winds, and loofely-flowing hair:
Then let all the bursting foul

Boldly dart from pole to pole;
Starting from the airy steep,
Lighty fkim the wavy deep;

Up the rough rock let me climb,

'Till thy ftrong voice with note fublime

Wakes, fires, and thrills with rapid ftrains,

And leads the lighten'd mind to foft Elyfian plains.

4.

Yet then let no fantastic tale;

No ruder thought difturb the dream;

But

But bear me to yon lonely dale,

Where weeps the willows o'er the murm'ring ftream:

Or where in the bow'ry shade

Quiet leans her drooping head,

Where from yonder cave beneath

Sweeps the wild wind through the heath,

Or with notes that deeply move,

Wake all the tuneful foul of Love;

Let bright Lucinda's charms arife,

With all the dazzling flame, the lightning of her

eyes.

RECITATIVE.

Then on the rapid wings of Fancy borne,
Bold let me foar with fteddy flight,
Where burfts the radiant blaze of light;
Or where Aurora fheds the rofy morn:

Or lead me where the warbling Nine,
With flying fingers fweep the melting lyre;
There foothe with harmony divine,

Or nobly breathe celeftial fire.

Or in the foft Idalian grove,

With all the Graces let me rove,

Where gay Anacreon haunts the genial bow'r,

And crowns the blufhing nymph with ev'ry balmy

flow'r.