Classic Poem

With such great Art, you all our Passions move,
Refine our Sensual, to Seraphick Love;
Calm our Ambition, in your Arbour's Seat;
Expose the Vanity of being great;
And make us sigh, for such a blest Retreat!
But in your Elevation, when we read,
So high's your Flight, so swift your Speed,
From Earth's Attraction freed:
With you we mount, in blest Amaze,
And on the beauteous Vision gaze.
We hear the tuneful Spheres turn round,
And our material Sense is drown'd
In Extasy of Sound!
All Joy, and Rapture then, we hardly know
Whether translated to that Bliss,
Oh come, ye sacred vocal Choir!
And listen, to th' harmonious Lays
Of this great Prophet's Lyre:
Come, join the Chorus, to your Maker's Praise;
And crown your younger Brother, with immortal Bays!