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 | Miscellanies (1785) |  |
VII.
Th' inspiring Goddess, mortals Fancy name,With all her magic arm'd, now near me came
Her waving wand, deep midnight deeper made,
With her I went—to where our Garrick laid.
Cynthia lent a feeble ray,
To light us on our way!
Fancy with printless footsteps trod,
As if advancing towards a God!
Methought we easy entrance found,
And the drear Abbey walk'd around.
How fearful thus, ye Heavens! to tread,
The dampsome vaults which close the dead!
| Miscellanies (1785) | |