The temple of nature or, the origin of society: a poem, with philosophical notes. By Erasmus Darwin |
 |
|
| I. |
| I. | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| III. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IV. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | The temple of nature |  |
3
I.
By firm immutable immortal laws
Impress'd on Nature by the Great First Cause,
Say, Muse! how rose from elemental strife
Organic forms, and kindled into life;
How Love and Sympathy with potent charm
Warm the cold heart, the lifted hand disarm;
Allure with pleasures, and alarm with pains,
And bind Society in golden chains.
Impress'd on Nature by the Great First Cause,
Say, Muse! how rose from elemental strife
Organic forms, and kindled into life;
How Love and Sympathy with potent charm
Warm the cold heart, the lifted hand disarm;
Allure with pleasures, and alarm with pains,
And bind Society in golden chains.
Four past eventful Ages then recite,
And give the fifth, new-born of Time, to light;
The silken tissue of their joys disclose,
Swell with deep chords the murmur of their woes;
Their laws, their labours, and their loves proclaim,
And chant their virtues to the trump of Fame.
And give the fifth, new-born of Time, to light;
The silken tissue of their joys disclose,
Swell with deep chords the murmur of their woes;
4
And chant their virtues to the trump of Fame.
Immortal Love! who ere the morn of Time,
On wings outstretch'd, o'er Chaos hung sublime;
Warm'd into life the bursting egg of Night,
And gave young Nature to admiring Light!—
You! whose wide arms, in soft embraces hurl'd
Round the vast frame, connect the whirling world!
Whether immers'd in day, the Sun your throne,
You gird the planets in your silver zone;
Or warm, descending on ethereal wing,
The Earth's cold bosom with the beams of spring;
Press drop to drop, to atom atom bind,
Link sex to sex, or rivet mind to mind;
Attend my song!—With rosy lips rehearse,
And with your polish'd arrows write my verse!—
So shall my lines soft-rolling eyes engage,
And snow-white fingers turn the volant page;
The smiles of Beauty all my toils repay,
And youths and virgins chant the living lay.
On wings outstretch'd, o'er Chaos hung sublime;
Warm'd into life the bursting egg of Night,
And gave young Nature to admiring Light!—
You! whose wide arms, in soft embraces hurl'd
Round the vast frame, connect the whirling world!
Whether immers'd in day, the Sun your throne,
You gird the planets in your silver zone;
Or warm, descending on ethereal wing,
The Earth's cold bosom with the beams of spring;
Press drop to drop, to atom atom bind,
Link sex to sex, or rivet mind to mind;
Attend my song!—With rosy lips rehearse,
And with your polish'd arrows write my verse!—
So shall my lines soft-rolling eyes engage,
And snow-white fingers turn the volant page;
5
And youths and virgins chant the living lay.
| The temple of nature | |