A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes | ||
[I.]
Recitative.
Here all thy active fires diffuse,Thou genuine British Muse;
Hither descend from yonder orient sky,
Cloth'd in thy heav'n-wove robe of harmony.
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Air I.
Come, imperial queen of song;Come with all that free-born grace,
Which lifts thee from the servile throng,
Who meanly mimic thy majestic pace;
That glance of dignity divine,
Which speaks thee of celestial line;
Proclaims thee inmate of the sky,
Daughter of Jove and Liberty.
A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes | ||