University of Virginia Library

Bound, every heart! and every bosom, burn!
O what a scale of miracles is here!
Its lowest round high-planted on the skies:
Its towering summit lost beyond the thought

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Of man or angel! O that I could climb
The wonderful ascent, with equal praise!
Praise! flow for ever, (if astonishment
Will give thee leave,) my praise! for ever flow;
Praise ardent, cordial, constant, to high Heaven
More fragrant than Arabia sacrificed,
And all her spicy mountains in a flame.