Joseph Addison
Salve magna parens frugum Saturnia tellus, Magna vir'm! tibi res antiqu' laudis et artis Aggredior, sanctos ausus recludere fontes.
If yet your thoughts are loose from state affairs, Nor feel the burden of a kingdom's cares; If yet your time and actions are your own;
I. Cecilia, whose exalted hymns With joy and wonder fill the blest,
Long had our dull forefathers slept supine, Nor felt the raptures of the tuneful Nine; Till Chaucer first, the merry bard, arose,
I. Prepare the hallow'd strain, My Muse, Thy softest sounds and sweetest numbrs chuse;
Our lives, discoloured with our present woes, May still grow white and shine with happier hours. So the pure limped stream, when foul with stains
How are thy servants blest, O Lord! How sure is their defence! Eternal wisdom is their guide,
The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
O Liberty! thou goddess, heavenly bright, profuse of bliss and pregnant with delight, Eternal pleasures in thy presence reign,
The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heav'ns, a shining frame,
The Spacious Firmament on high, With all the blue Ethereal Sky, And spangled Heav'ns, a Shining Frame,
While haughty Gallia's dames, that pread O'er their pale cheeks, an artful red, Beheld this beauteous stranger there
In the first rise and infancy of farce, When fools were many, and when plays were scarce The raw unpractis'd authors could, with ease,
The Campaign, A Poem, To His Grace The Duke Of Marlborough While crowds of princes your deserts proclaim, Proud in their number to enrol your name;
The Lord my pasture shall prepare And feed me with a shepherds care; His presence shall my wants supply
The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame
How long, great Poet, shall thy sacred lays Provoke our wonder, and transcend our praise? Can neither injuries of time, or age,
When all Thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view, I'm lost
When rising from the bed of death, O'erwhelmed with guilt and fear, I see my Maker face to face,