A POEM.
39
"Full well you know the imperial mandate given,
His salutary law who rules in heaven! 40
That, hasting hence, our waters seek the day,
And from a thousand fountains force their way,
Pour on the plain, and genial moisture yield
To verdant pasture, and to golden field;
Nurse the fair flowers which on our margins rise,
And forests proud which sweep the lofty skies;
See populous cities on our banks extend,
And through their crowded gates their thousands send;
Feel mighty fleets on our fair bosoms ride,
Loading with war or wealth our labouring tide; 50
Round spacious islands stretch our silver arms,
And in our caverns feed the scaly swarms.
Then in the ocean poured, our journey run,
Forced by rude winds, or courted by the sun,
Our waters, from the brine, disdainful rise,
Through air aspire, and sail along the skies;
On deluged plain, or parched pasture pour
In sounding tempest, or in silent shower;
Adorn the fields, mature the golden grain,
And blot from fields of death the sanguine stain; 60
Or load with lowring mifts the mountain's brow,
Sink through the soil, and feed the springs below;
His salutary law who rules in heaven! 40
That, hasting hence, our waters seek the day,
And from a thousand fountains force their way,
Pour on the plain, and genial moisture yield
To verdant pasture, and to golden field;
Nurse the fair flowers which on our margins rise,
And forests proud which sweep the lofty skies;
See populous cities on our banks extend,
And through their crowded gates their thousands send;
Feel mighty fleets on our fair bosoms ride,
Loading with war or wealth our labouring tide; 50
Round spacious islands stretch our silver arms,
And in our caverns feed the scaly swarms.
Then in the ocean poured, our journey run,
Forced by rude winds, or courted by the sun,
Our waters, from the brine, disdainful rise,
Through air aspire, and sail along the skies;
On deluged plain, or parched pasture pour
In sounding tempest, or in silent shower;
Adorn the fields, mature the golden grain,
And blot from fields of death the sanguine stain; 60
Or load with lowring mifts the mountain's brow,
Sink through the soil, and feed the springs below;
