Ye sacred Muses, with whose beauty fir'd,
My soul is ravisht and my brain inspir'd:
Whose Priest I am, whose holy fillets wear,
Would you your Poet's first petition hear,
Give me the ways of wand'ring stars to know,
The depth of Heaven above and Earth below;
Teach me the various labours of the Moon,
And whence proceed th' eclipses of the Sun;
Why flowing Tides prevail upon the main,
And in what dark abyss they shrink again;