Here vines mature, in purple clusters glow,
And heav'n above, diffuses heav'n below!
Erect and tall, here mountain cedars rise,
High o'er the clouds, and emulate the skies!
Here the winged crowds, that skim the air,
with artful toil, their little dams prepare,
Here, hatch their young, and nurse their rising care!
Up the steep-hill ascends the nimble doe,
While timid conies scour the plains below;
Or in the pendent rocks elude the scenting foe.
He bade the silver majesty of night,
Revolve her circle, and increase her light.
But if one moment thou thy face should'st hide,
Thy glory clouded, or thy smiles denied,
Then widow'd nature veils her mournful eyes,
And vents her grief, in universal cries!
Then gloomy death, with all his meagre train;
Wide o'er the nations spreads his iron reign!
Sea, earth, and air, the bounteous ravage mourn,
And all their hosts to native dust return!
Again thy glorious quickning influence shed,
The glad creation rears its drooping head:
New rising forms, thy potent smiles obey,
And life re-kindles at the genial ray;
United thanks replenish'd nature pays,
And heaven and earth resound their Maker's praise.

When time shall in eternity be lost,
And hoary nature languish into dust,
Forever young, thy glories shall remain,