Oh! yet a few short years of useful life,

And all will be complete, thy race be run,

Thy monument of glory will be raised;

Then, though, too weak to tread the ways of truth

This Age fall back to old idolatry,

Though men return to servitude as fast

As the tide ebbs, to ignominy and shame

By Nations sink together, we shall still

Find solace in the knowledge which we have,

Bless'd with true happiness if we may be

United helpers forward of a day

Of firmer trust, joint-labourers in the work,

(Should Providence such grace to us vouchsafe)

Of their redemption, surely yet to come.

Prophets of Nature, we to them will speak

A lasting inspiration, sanctified

By reason and by truth: what we have loved

Others will love; and we may teach them how,

Instruct them how the mind of man becomes

A thousand times more beautiful than the earth

On which he dwells, above this Frame of things

(Which 'mid all revolutions in the hopes

And fears of men doth still remain unchanged)

In beauty exalted, as it is itself

Of substance and of fabric more divine.