ous spoils,
He still dares on, demands sublimer toils,
And, had not nature check'd his vent'rous wing,
His eye had pierc'd her at her primal spring.

Thus, when enwrapt, Prometheus strove to trace
Inspir'd perceptions of celestial grace,
Th' ideal spirit, fugitive as wind,
Art's forceful spells in adamant confin'd;
Curv'd with nice chisel, floats the obsequious line,
From stone unconscious, beauty beams divine,
On magic pois'd, th' exulting structure swims,
And spurns attraction with elastic limbs.
While ravish'd fancy vivifies the form,
While judgment toils to analyze its charm,
While admiration spreads her speaking hands,
The lofty artist undelighted stands;
He longs to ravish, from the blest abodes,
The seal of heaven, the attribute of gods,
To give his labor's more than man can give,
Breathe Jove's own breath, and bid the marble live!

Won from her woof, embellishing the skies,
Descending Pallas soothes her votry's sighs;
Where, 'mid the twilight of o'er-arching groves,
By waking visions led, th' enthusiast roves,
Like summer suns, by showery clouds conceal'd,
With sudden blaze the goddess shines reveal'd;
Behold, she cries, in thy distinguish'd cause,
I challenge Jove's inexorable laws!
With life's stol'n essence let the awaken'd stone
A superhuman generation own:
Defrauded nature shall admire the deed,
And time recoil at thy immortal meed.

Impregn'd with action, and convok'd to breathe,
Sighs the still form his ardent hands beneath;
Electric lustres flash from either eye,
O'er its pale cheeks suffusing flushes fly,
And glossy damps its clust'ring curls adorn,
Like dew-drops brightening on the brows of morn;
Thro' nerves that vibrates in unfolding chains
Foams the warm life-blood, excavating veins,
'Till all infus'd, and organiz'd the whole,
The finish'd fabric hails the breathing soul!
Then, wak'd tumultuous in th' alarmed breast,
Contending passions claim th' etherial guest,
And still, as each alternate empire proves,
She hopes, she fears, she envies, and she loves,
Owns all sensations that divide the span,
And eternize the little life of man.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poetic Sketches, by Thomas Gent

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POETIC SKETCHES ***

***** This file should be named 11983.txt or 11983.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.gutenberg.net/1/1/9/8/11983/

Produced by Jonathan Ingra