то THE MEMORY OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON, SHALL the great soul of Newton quit this earth, Of honours due to his illustrious name? Hail his arrival on the coast of bliss. Yet am not I deterr'd, though high the theme, In Nature's general symphony to join. And what new wonders can ye show your guest! Who, while on this dim spot, where mortals toil Clouded in dust, from Motion's simple laws, Could trace the secret hand of Providence, Wide-working through his universal frame. Have ye not listen'd while he bound the suns And planets to their spheres! th' unequal task Of human-kind till then. Oft had they roll'd and oft disgrac'd O'er erring man the year, The pride of schools, before their course was known All-piercing sage! who sat not down and dream'd Of specious words, and tyranny of names; What were his raptures then! how pure! how strong! All intellectual eye, our solar round The whole in silent harmony revolve. The tide revertive, unattracted, leaves A yellow waste of idle sands behind. Then breaking hence, he took his ardent flight He, first of men, with awful wing pursu'd The heavens are all his own; from the wild rule Of whirling vortices, and circling spheres, |