Could Faustus live, by gloomy Grave resigned; Thy glorious life a volume should compose, The stars should be its types-its press the age; In language set, not Babel could o'erturn; On leaves impressed, which Omar could not burn; The sacred work in Heaven's high dome should stand, Shine with its suns, and with its arch expand; 'Till Nature's-self the Vandal torch should raise, And the vast alcove of Creation blaze! THE RULING PASSION; AN OCCASIONAL POEM, WRITTEN BY THE APPOINTMENT OF THE SOCIETY OF THE PHI BETA KAPPA; AND SPOKEN, ON THEIR ANNIVERSARY, IN THE CHAPEL OF THE UNIVERSITY, CAMBRIDGE, JULY 20, 1797. THE RULING PASSION. RANGE ANGE we through Nature's social walks, to scan That little world, that greater wonder, man. The Sage's study, which but few improve; Powers, dense as earth; conceptions, rare as light; Less by himself, than others, understood; More led by sense, yet more with mind endued; His nature oftener sets our world at odds, Than Jove, in Ovid's "Green-Room" of the gods. Since, then, the wisest are as dull, as we, Nature ne'er meant her secrets should be found, |