Fear bow’d before the phantoms she portray’d,
And Nature teem’d with many a mystic sign.
Meteors, and storms, and thunders! ye whose course
E’en yet is awful to th’ enlighten’d eye,
As, wildly rushing from your secret source,
Your sounding chariot sweeps the realms on high,
Then o’er the earth prophetic gloom ye cast,
And the wide nations gazed, and trembled as ye pass’d.
XVII.
But you, ye stars! in distant glory burning,