And thought aſtoniſh'd ſtops her bold career.
But oh thou mighty mind! whoſe powerful word
Said, thus let all things be, and thus they were,
Where ſhall I ſeek thy preſence? how unblam'd
Invoke thy dread perſection?
Have the bread eye-lids of the morn beheld thee?
Or does the beamy ſhoulder of Orion
Support thy throne? O look with pity down
On erring guilty man; not in thy names
Of terror clad; not with thoſe thunders arm'd
That conſcious Sinai felt, when fear appal'd
The ſcatter'd tribes; thou haſt a gentler voice,
That whiſpers comfort to the ſwelling heart,
Abaſh'd, yet longing to behold her Maker.
But now my ſoul unus'd to ſtretch her powers
In flight ſo daring, drops her weary wing,
And ſeeks again the known accuſtom'd ſpot,
