Whose sombrous branches shed a noontide night!
Groves, that for ever wear the smile of spring!
Gay birds that wave the many-tinted wing!
Of reptiles, fishes, brutes, stupendous forms!
And ye, of nameless insects glittering swarms!
Sons of soft toil, whose shuttle beauty throws,
Whose tints the Graces’ earnest hands dispose,
Whose guileless bosom Care avoid and Crime,
Gay as your groves, and cloudless as your clime!
Primæval piles, that rose in massive pride,