Bid misty demons from your marshes rise;
With congregated horrors crowd the plain—
And drive these pallid robbers o'er the main!
An awful murmur instantly transpires—
Th' applause, that wisdom gives, when genius fires;
Not the vain shout the shallow rabble draws,
But conscious judgment's well-approving pause.
Nor with weak praise they greet the scepter'd fair,
But speed to execute th' important care.
Now thro' the dusky air they range their flight,