{ The inspiring sun to Albion draws more nigh,
{ The north at length teems with a work to vie
{ With Homer's flame and Virgil's majesty.
}
{ While Pindus lofty heights our poet sought,
{ (His ravisht mind with vast ideas fraught,)
{ Our language failed beneath his rising thought;
}
{ This checks not his attempt, for Maro's mines,
{ He drains of all their gold t'adorn his lines;