Fair thy renown
In awful sages and in noble bards;
Soon as the light of dawning Science spread
Her orient ray, and waked the Muses’ song.
. . . . . .
For lofty sense,
Creative fancy, and inspection keen
Through the deep windings of the human heart,
Is not wild Shakespeare thine and Nature’s boast?
The Seasons: Summer. 1727, ll. 1442-6, 1479-83, 1531-4, and 1563-6.