on the whirlwind's wing, Riding sublime, thou bidst the world adore, And humblest nature with thy northern blast.

245 "He, whilest he lived, happie was through thee, And, being dead, is happie now much more; Living, that lincked chaunst with thee to bee, And dead, because him dead thou dost adore As living, and thy lost deare love deplore.

The Christ-child was coming; the world held up its hands adoring; all that was needed of men was to love Him, and rejoice.

Yet still he plays,the coming day adoring, With brow serene, and gladness in his gaze, All past and future happiness ignoring Just for to-day's!

what wretch would groan Beneath the galling load of power, or walk Upon the slippery pavements of the great, Who thus could reign, unenvied and secure? 510 Ye guardian powers who make mankind your care, Give me to know wise Nature's hidden depths, Trace each mysterious cause, with judgment read The expanded volume, and submiss adore That great creative Will, who at a word Spoke forth the wondrous scene.