THE
PHENOMENA.
LET us begin from Jove. Let every mortal raise
His grateful voice to tune Jove's endless praise.
Jove fills the heaven—the earth—the sea—the air:
We feel his spirit moving here and every where.
And we his offspring are. He ever good
Daily provides for man his daily food.
Ordains the seasons by his signs on high,
Studding with gems of light the azure canopy.
What time with plough or spade to break the soil,
That plenteous store may bless the reaper's toil,10
What time to plant and prune the vine he shows,
And hangs the purple cluster on its boughs.
To Him—the First—the Last—all homage yield,
Our Father—Wonderful—our Help—our Shield.
Next hail, harmonious Muses, and inspire
Some portion of your own celestial fire,
Not adverse to a daring Poet's flight,
Who scours on fancy's wings the realms of light.
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