1773 POEMS by Philliss Wheatly şiElectronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R) DAK Upgraded Edition, Copyright 2000, DAK Industries 2000, Inc(R)şI {POEMS Poems {IMAGINATION On Imagination IMAGINATION! who can sing thy source, Or who describe the swiftness of thy course? Soaring through air to find the bright abode, The empyreal palace of the thundering God, We on thy pinions can surpass the wind And leave the rolling universe behind. From star to star the mental optics rove, Measure the skies, and range the realms above; There in one view we grasp the mighty whole, Or with new worlds amaze the unbounded soul. {ON_DEATH_INFANT On the Death of C.E., An Infant of Twelve Months THROUGH airy roads he wings his instant flight To purer regions of celestial light; Enlarged he sees unnumbered system roll, Beneath him sees the universal whole, Planets on planets run their destined round And circling wonders fill the vast profound. The ethereal now, and now the empyreal skies With growing splendors strike his wondering eyes: The angels view him with delight unknown, Press his soft hand, and seat him on his throne; Then smiling thus: 'To this divine abode, The seat of saints, of seraphs, and of God, Thrice welcome thou.' The raptured babe replies, 'Thanks to my God, who snatched me to the skies, E'er vice triumphant had possessed my heart, E'er yet the tempter had beguiled my heart, E'er yet on sin's base actions I was bent. E'er yet I knew temptation's dire intent; E'er yet the lash for horrid crimes I felt, E'er vanity had led my way to guilt, But, soon arrived at my celestial goal, Full glories rush on my expanding soul.' Joyful he spoke: exulting cherubs round Clapped their glad wings; the heavenly vaults resound. {RIGHT_HONORABLE To the Right Honorable William, Earl of Dartmouth HAIL, happy day, when, smiling like the morn, Fair Freedom rose New England to adorn! The northern clime beneath her genial ray, Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway: Elate with hope her race no longer mourns, Each soul expands, each grateful bosom burns, While in thine hand with pleasure we behold The silken reins, and Freedom's charms unfold. Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies She shines supreme, while hated Faction dies. Soon as appeared the Goddess long desired, Sick at the view, she languished and expired; Thus from the splendors of the morning light The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night. No more, America, in mournful strain, Of wrongs, and grievance unredressed complain; No longer shall thou dread the iron chain, Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand Had made, and with it meant to enslave the land. Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song, Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprang, Whence flow these wishes for the common good, By feeling hearts alone best understood, I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate Was snatched from Afric's fancied happy seat: What pangs excruciating must molest, What sorrows labor in my parents' breast! Steeled was that soul and by no misery moved That from a father seized his babe beloved: Such, such my case. And can I then but pray Others may never feel tyrannic sway? THE END