 | Poems by Dr. Roberts of Eton College |  |
5
TO THE Rev. Dr. BARNARD, PROVOST OF Eton College, &c.
Servant
of God, thy Master's praise I sing;
Aid me, O aid me, while I touch the string:
Lend me one spark of thy celestial fire,
Thoughts that breathe warm, and numbers that aspire.
O shew me where the secret fountain lies,
Which streams of language to thy tongue supplies;
Teach me like thee to feel; and give, ah! give
One greater, nobler art; like thee to live.
Aid me, O aid me, while I touch the string:
Lend me one spark of thy celestial fire,
Thoughts that breathe warm, and numbers that aspire.
O shew me where the secret fountain lies,
Which streams of language to thy tongue supplies;
Teach me like thee to feel; and give, ah! give
One greater, nobler art; like thee to live.
O BARNARD, vers'd in wisdom's ancient lore,
And skill'd the depths of science to explore;
Whose well-tun'd ear rejects with nice disdain
The grating sound of each discordant strain;
Accept this verse: beneath thine honour'd name
I screen no subject of obscurer fame:
Great is the theme; but oh! my fainting soul
Shrinks from her task, nor grasps this wondrous Whole.
Aid me then, aid me, while I touch the string;
Servant of God, thy Master's praise I sing.
And skill'd the depths of science to explore;
Whose well-tun'd ear rejects with nice disdain
The grating sound of each discordant strain;
6
I screen no subject of obscurer fame:
Great is the theme; but oh! my fainting soul
Shrinks from her task, nor grasps this wondrous Whole.
Aid me then, aid me, while I touch the string;
Servant of God, thy Master's praise I sing.
| Poems by Dr. Roberts of Eton College | |