IV.
1.
Scenes of 'raptur'd Vision rise,
Mystic, wave before mine Eyes,
Painting, as they skim along,
Deeds which demand the boldest Flights of Song;
Glancing, as the Rays of Light,
Quick they glitter on my Sight;
Heard you now these Sounds of Fear
Rend the terror-stricken Ear?
Thence they proceed, where to thy dazzled Eye,
The Prussians pour along, the nerveless Austrians fly.
2.
Softly streaming into Woe,
Change we now the various Strain;
Let the melting Sorrows flow,
Let the tender Muse complain:
Thee, of every Praise possest,
With heart-felt Sighs, lamenting Heroes mourn;
Bless'd in thy Life, but in thy Fall more bless'd,
The Tears of Royal Friendship grac'd thy Urn;
Responsive Groans around
Return'd the plaintive Sound;
Through all the joyless Host was spread,
“Our Friend, our Chief, our Keith is dead!”
Oh, lov'd of Virtue, if her purest Flame
Can 'raptur'd Joys, and heavenly Pleasures claim,
Thy Soul has sprung to Bliss on Wings of well-earn'd Fame.
3.
Through Time's dark Bosom can the Muse's Ray
On future Ages beam her piercing Light;
In mental Vision pour a Gleam of Day
On Deeds which scorn the Ken of vulgar Sight:
Behold the Rage of War is fled;
No more the Plains are strew'd with Dead;
Fair Peace extends her olive-bearing Hand;
The kindred Arts attend, and bless the Land:
In Northern Groves the Nine inspire,
Breathe the soft Lay, or string the sounding Lyre;
Succeeding Newtons range amid the Skies,
And other Raphaels, other Miltons rise;
O Days auspicious! Golden Age restor'd!
When Frederick sheaths the Terrors of the Sword:
Then late Posterity, through every Page,
Shall with his Name embalm this young Augustan Age.
