How Man had fallen, and where Eden boughs
Had waved their beauty on the breeze of morn;
Or, how the angels still at twilight love
To visit earth with errands from the sky.
ISAIAH.
Terrific bard! and mighty—in thy strain
A torrent of inspiring passion sounds—
Whether for cities by the Almighty cursed,
Thy wail arose—or, on enormous crimes
That darken'd heav'n with supernat'ral gloom,