Struck with contagion, kindling fancy hears
The songs of heaven, the music of the spheres!
Borne on Newtonian wing through air she flies,
Where other suns to other systems rise.
These front the scene conspicuous; overhead
Albion’s proud oak his filial branches spread:
While on the sea-beat shore obsequious stood,
Beneath their feet, the father of the flood:
Here, the bold native of her cliffs above,
Perched by the martial maid the bird of Jove;