Nor less the warmer living tribes demand
The fost’ring sun: whose energy divine
Dwells not in mortal fire; whose generous heat 340
Glows thro’ the mass of grosser elements,
And kindles into life the pond’rous spheres.
Chear’d by thy kind invigorating warmth,
We court thy beams, great majesty of day!
If not the soul, the regent of this world, 345
First born of heaven, and only less than God!
