Original - Duke Divinity School

When wild Confusion did his Voice obey,
And sudden started into fair Array.
By him I stood, when Heav’n’s amazing Frame,
Call’d by his quickning Voice, from nothing came;
I saw, when all its glitt’ring Hosts were made,
And in bright Ranks their beauteous Orbs display’d;
I at his Word beheld the Clouds arise,
And in their fleecy Volumes cloath the Skies,
Form’d by the heav’nly Artist to contain
The watry Treasures of his fruitful Rain.
When he rebuk’d the haughty Ocean’s Pride,
And check’d the Fury of the swelling Tide,
I saw the ebbing Waves submissive creep
Back to the spacious Bosom of the Deep.
I saw, when midst the Planets Earth he plac’d
On her own Center fix’d, and round her Waste
The Waters, as a Liquid Garment, cast.
Thro’ the whole Mass he my kind Influence spread,
And stamp’d my Image on whate’er he made;
I still, as his Delight, before him stood,
Dwelt with th’ Eternal, and convers’d with God. […]
Phoenix Park. By the Same. 24
[p.] 379 Shall Cooper’s-Hill, majestick rise in Rhyme,
Strong as its Basis, as its Brow sublime?
Shall Windsor Forest win immortal Praise,
It self outlasting in its Poets Lays?
And thou, O Phoenix Park, remain so long
Unknown to Fame, and unadorn’d in Song?
24 Concanen, editor, “Phoenix Park,” by the same [Mr. Ward], pp. 379–91.
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