Original - Duke Divinity School

To distant Objects stretch my lengthen’d View,
And make each pleasing Prospect charm anew.
The Mountain here heaves up his airy Height,
A short Horizon to my bounded Sight,
Whose Caverns treasure up descending Show’rs,
Nor Heav’n on him in vain its Plenty pours;
When sultry Seasons scorch the rivel’d Earth,
His Bounty gives a thousand Fountains Birth:
Prolifick Moisture swells the smiling Grain,
And double Harvests load the grateful Plain.
Deep in the Vale old Liffy rolls his Tides,
Romantick Prospects crown his revered Sides;
Now thro’ wild Grotts, and pendant Woods he strays,
And ravish’d at the Sight, his Course delays,
Silent and calm—now with impetuous Shock
Pours his swift Torrent down the steepy Rock;
The tumbling Waves thro’ airy Channels flow,
And loudly roaring, smoak, and foam below. …
There, o’er wide Plains, my lab’ring Sight extends,
And fails itself e’er the long Landskape ends:
Where Flocks around the rural Cottage seen,
Brouze the young Buds, or graze the tufted Green;
And Fields bespread with golden Crops appear,
Ensuring Plenty for the following Year.
There on a Mount a ruin’d Tow’r I spy,
A sweet Amusement to the distant Eye;
Forward it starts, approaching to be seen,
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