Who spreadest heaven around it,
Whose woods, rocks, waves, surround it:
Who sittest in thy star, o’er Ocean’s western floor,
Spirit of beauty! at whose soft command
The sunbeams and the showers distil its foison
From the Earth’s bosom chill;
O bid those beams be each a blinding brand
Of lightning! bid those showers be dews of poison!
Bid the Earth’s plenty kill!
Bid thy bright heaven above,