3? A DRAMATIC ODE. His spirit rises with'each rising no/e,, The future is not fear'd, the past forgot. Yes, tyrant Passions, ye shall k? That I am sovereign o'er your tum?k'stitl, Can lead you captive a? my will,' Make ev:n Despair to weep, and win l/smil? from W?e. Painting. .. I to thy baud my magic pencil give, At whose warm touch the canvas learns to live; But chief endow thee with the gifted eye, Each latent charm o/Nature to descry; And know the combinations, and the power Of hill, vale, forest; l/ght, shade, Sa.n, and shower; Whate'er the loom ca? weave, the chisel {race, Proportion's loveliness, and. beauty's grace. Nor forms alone, that racet the outward .view; I will embody all that Fancy drew, Snatch my far objects from each clime remote, And, iu arresting each aiirial thought, Give pause to sorrow, lighter moments bring, When long disease has fetter'd their Slow wing. Poetry. Ye Powers, and vmied Passions, ye Have but p?pas'd the boy for me! ......... ?Google
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