The Power by which the spacious earth is driv’n,
Round roll’d this mighty globe with awful speed;
The virgin moon perform’d her holy deed—
Reflecting God’s undeviating light,
Which gives us day, while she attends the night.
At length Jane Hollybrand, expectant, saw—
Though to her sorrow, coming very slow’—
The bumpkin postman, who appear’d intent
On solving some rude myst’ry as he went;
And then, as fate would have it, stopp’d to see