The scale of sensual, mental pow'rs ascends;
Mark how it mounts to Man's imperial race,
From the green myriads in the peopled grass
What modes of sight, betwixt each wide extreme,
The mole's dim curtain, and the lynx's beam:
Of smell the head-long lioness between,
And hound sagacious on the tainted green.
Of hearing, from the life that fills the flood,
To that which warbles thro' the vernal wood,
The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine!