A bold invasion of the rights of Heaven!
I clasp’d the phantoms, and I found them air.
Oh! had I weigh’d it ere my fond embrace,
What darts of agony had miss’d my heart!
Death! great proprietor of all! ’tis thine
To tread out empire, and to quench the stars.
The sun himself by thy permission shines;
And, one day, thou shalt pluck him from his sphere.
Amid such mighty plunder, why exhaust
Thy partial quiver on a mark so mean? 210