To Mr George Sandys, On His Translation Of Some Parts Of The Bible.
1 How bold a work attempts that pen,
Which would enrich our vulgar tongue
With the high raptures of those men
Who, here, with the same spirit sung
Wherewith they now assist the choir
Of angels, who their songs admire!
2 Whatever those inspirèd souls
Were urgèd to express, did shake
The aged deep and both the poles;
Their num'rous thunder could awake
Dull earth, which does with Heaven consent
To all they wrote, and all they meant.
3 Say, sacred bard! what could bestow
Courage on thee to soar so high?
Tell me, brave friend! what help'd thee so
To shake off all mortality?
To light this torch, thou hast climb'd higher
Than he who stole celestial fire.
Which would enrich our vulgar tongue
With the high raptures of those men
Who, here, with the same spirit sung
Wherewith they now assist the choir
Of angels, who their songs admire!
2 Whatever those inspirèd souls
Were urgèd to express, did shake
The aged deep and both the poles;
Their num'rous thunder could awake
Dull earth, which does with Heaven consent
To all they wrote, and all they meant.
3 Say, sacred bard! what could bestow
Courage on thee to soar so high?
Tell me, brave friend! what help'd thee so
To shake off all mortality?
To light this torch, thou hast climb'd higher
Than he who stole celestial fire.
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