Classic Poem

V

Awake, Oh Royal Sir ! Oh Queen , ador'd, awake!
For whom our Triumphs and our Songs we make;
The sleepless Crowds their early duties show,
Th' attending Hierarchies of Angels bow;
All Heav'n and Earth with one united joy
Expect the mighty business of this coming Day :
All Languish for its blest approach — but You,
You to whom Glory's can no Luster give,
Whose Beams , like the expanded Sun,
Adorn what e're they deign to shine upon;
But no exalt addition can receive.
Thou HERO of th' expecting world arise!
Shake off the downy pleasures from thy eyes;
And from the softest Charms of Love , Arise!
From joys too fierce for any sense but Thine ,
Whose Soul , whose Faculty's are all Divine ;
So Bodies when refin'd , all Heav'n survey,
While feebler Mortals faint with ev'ry ray:
O rise from the inchanting Ravisher ,
Nor listen to the Musick of Her Tongue ;
Her Angel Eyes, and Voice, so conqu'ring are,
Love will make humbler Glory wait too long.