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SIR WILLIAM JONES.

Above the warring waves it danc'd elate,
Till from its bursting shell with lovely state
A form cerulean flutter'd o'er the deep.
Brightest of beings, greatest of the great:
Who, not as mortals steep
Their eyes in dewy sleep,
But heav'nly-pensive on the Lotus lay,
That blossom'd at his touch and shed a golden ray.

Hail, primal Blossom! hail empyreal gem!
KEMEL, or PEDMA, or whate'er high name
Delight thee, say, what four-form'd Godhead came,
With graceful stole and beamy diadem,
Forth from thy verdant stem?
Full-gifted BREHMA! Rapt in solemn thought
He stood, and round his eyes fire-darting threw:
But, whilst his viewless origin he sought,
One plain he saw of living waters blue,
Their spring nor saw nor knew.
Then, in his parent stalk again retir'd
With restless pain for ages he inquir'd.
What were his pow'rs, by whom, and why conf err'd:
With doubts perplex'd, with keen impatience fir'd
He rose, and rising heard
Th' unknown all-knowing Word,
"BREHMA! no more in vain research persist:
My veil thou canst not move.—Go; bid all worlds exist."

Hail, self-existent, in celestial speech
NARAYEN, from thy watery cradle, nam'd;
Or VENAMALY may I sing unblam'd,
With flow'ry braids, that to thy sandals reach.
Whose beauties, who can teach?
Or high PEITAMBER clad in yellow robes
Than sunbeams brighter in meridian glow.
That weave their heav'n-spun light o'er circling globes?
Unwearied, lotus-eyed, with dreadful bow,
Dire Evil's constant foe,