From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed, 
Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes, 
In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth: 
He comes attended by the sultry Hours, 
And ever fanning breezes, on his way; 
While, from his ardent look, the turning Spring 
Averts her blushful face; and earth, and skies, 
All-smiling, to his hot dominion leaves. 
Hence, let me haste into the mid-wood shade, 
Where scarce a sunbeam wanders through the gloom; 
And on the dark-green grass, beside the brink 
Of haunted stream, that by the roots of oak 
Rolls o'er the rocky channel, lie at large, 
And sing the glories of the circling year. 
Come, Inspiration! from thy hermit-seat, 
By mortal seldom found: may Fancy dare, 
From thy fix'd serious eye, and raptured glance 
Shot on surrounding Heaven, to steal one look 
Creative of the Poet, every power 
Exalting to an ecstasy of soul. 
And thou, my youthful Muse's early friend, 
In whom the human graces all unite: 
Pure light of mind, and tenderness of heart; 
Genius, and wisdom; the gay social sense, 
By decency chastised; goodness and wit, 
In seldom-meeting harmony combined; 
Unblemish'd honour, and an active zeal 
For Britain's glory, liberty, and Man: 
O Dodington! attend my rural song, 
Stoop to my theme, inspirit every line, 
And teach me to deserve thy just applause. 
With what an awful world-revolving power 
Were first the unwieldy planets launch'd along 
The illimitable void! thus to remain, 
Amid the flux of many thousand years, 
That oft has swept the toiling race of men, 
And all their labour'd monuments away, 
Firm, unremitting, matchless, in their course; 
To the kind-temper'd change of night and day, 
And of the seasons ever stealing round, 
Minutely faithful: such the All-perfect hand! 
That poised, impels, and rules the steady whole. 
When now no more the alternate Twins are fired, 
And Cancer reddens with the solar blaze, 
Short is the doubtful empire of the night; 
And soon, observant of approaching day, 
The meek'd-eyed Morn appears, mother of dews, 
At first faint-gleaming in the dappled east: 
Till far o'er ether spreads the widening glow; 
And, from before the lustre of her face, 
White break the clouds away. With quicken'd step, 
Brown Night retires: young Day pours in apace, 
And opens all the lawny prospect wide. 
The dripping rock, the mountain's misty top 
Swell on the sight, and brighten with the dawn. 
Blue, through the dusk, the smoking currents shine; 
And from the bladed field the fearful hare 
Limps, awkward: while along the forest-glade 
The wild deer trip, and often turning gaze 
At early passenger. Music awakes 
The native voice of undissembled joy; 
And thick around the woodland hymns arise. 
Roused by the cock, the soon-clad shepherd leaves 
His mossy cottage, where with Peace he dwells; 
And from the crowded fold, in order, drives 
His flock, to taste the verdure of the morn. 
Falsely luxurious! will not Man awake; 
And, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy 
The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, 
To meditation due and sacred song? 
For is there ought in sleep can charm the wise? 
To lie in dead oblivion, losing half 
The fleeting moments of too short a life; 
Total extinction of the enlightened soul! 
Or else to feverish vanity alive, 
Wilder'd, and tossing through distemper'd dreams? 
Who would in such a gloomy state remain 
Longer than Nature craves; when every Muse 
And every blooming pleasure wait without, 
To bless the wildly-devious morning-walk? 
But yonder comes the powerful King of Day, 
Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud, 
The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow 
Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach 
Betoken glad. Lo! now, apparent all, 
Aslant the dew-bright earth, and colour'd air, 
He looks in boundless majesty abroad; 
And sheds the shining day, that burnish'd plays 
On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering streams, 
High gleaming from afar. Prime cheerer, Light! 
Of all material beings first, and best! 
Efflux divine! Nature's resplendent robe! 
Without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt 
In unessential gloom; and thou, O Sun! 
Soul of surrounding worlds! in whom best seen 
Shines out thy Maker! may I sing of thee? 
'Tis by thy secret, strong, attractive force, 
As with a chain indissoluble bound, 
Thy system rolls entire: from the far bourne 
Of utmost Saturn, wheeling wide his round 
Of thirty years, to Mercury, whose disk 
Can scarce be caught by philosophic eye, 
Lost in the near effulgence of thy blaze. 
Informer of the planetary train! 
Without whose quickening glance their cumbrous orbs 
Were brute unlovely mass, inert and dead, 
And not, as now, the green a