P R O (E M I U M, 



' Full Nature swarms with life ; one wond'rous mass 

 Of animals, or atoms organized, 

 Waiting the vital breath, when Parent Heaven 

 Shall bid his spirit flow. * * 



* * Through subterranean cells, 

 Where searching sunbeams scarce can find a way, 

 Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf 

 Wants not its soft inhabitants. Secure 

 Within its winding citadel, the stone 



Holds multitudes. But chief the forest boughs, 

 That dance unnumber'd to the playful breeze, 

 The downy orchard, and the melting pulp 

 Of mellow fruit, the nameless nations feed 

 Of evanescent insects. Where the pool 

 Stands mantled o'er with green, invisible, 

 Amid the floating verdure, millions stray : 



* * * Nor is the stream 

 Of purest crystal, nor the lucid air, 

 Though one transparent vacancy it seems, 

 Void of their unseen people. * 



* * * These, conceal'd 

 By the kind art of forming Heaven, escape 

 The grosser eye of man. * * 

 Let no presuming impious railer tax 

 Creative wisdom, as if aught was form'd 



In vain, or not for admirable ends. 

 Shall little haughty Ignorance pronounce 

 His works unwise, of which the smallest part 

 Exceeds the narrow vision of her mind? 



