Classic Poem

Hail mystic art, which men like angels taught
To speak to eyes, and paint embody's thought!
The deaf and dumb, blest skill, reliev'd by thee,
We make one sense perform the task of three.
We see, we hear, we touch, the head and heart,
And take or give what each but yields in part;
With the hard laws of distance we dispense,
And without sound, apart, commune in sense;
View, though confin'd, nay, rule this earthly ball,
And travel o'er the wide-extended ALL.
Dead letters thus with living notions fraught,
Prove to the soul the telescope of thought.
To mortal life immortal honour gives;
And bid all deeds and titles last and live
In scanty life—Eternity we taste,
View the first ages, and inform the last.
Arts, history, laws, we purchase with a look,
And keep, like fate, all nature in a book.