Up to the regions of eternal day,
From finite being to its native skies:
With thee review with perspicacious eye,
The long, long chain of Providence design;
Conceive the attributes of deity,
And hymn his praise ineffably divine.
But cease my song! I hear the muse complain,
How she has strove, and still may strive in vain,
To tell the heart-felt pleasures of thy reign.