A POEM Sacred to the MEMORY of Sir ISAAC NEWTON . Inscrib'd to the RIGHT HONOURABLE Sir ROBERT WALPOLE . SHALL the great Soul of Newton quit this earth , To mingle with his stars ; and every muse , Astonish'd into silence , shun the weight Of honours due to his illustrious name ? But what can man ? — Even now the sons of light , In strains high-warbled to seraphic lyre , Hail his arrival on the coast of bliss . Yet am not I deterr'd , tho' high the theme , And sung to harps of angels , for with you , Ethereal Flames ! ambitious , I aspire In Nature's general symphony to joyn . And what new wonders can ye show your guest ! Who , while on this dim spot , where mortals toil Clouded in dust , from Motion's simple laws , Could trace the secret hand of Providence , Wide-working thro' this universal frame . Have ye not listen'd while he bound the Suns , And Planets to their spheres ! th' unequal task Of human kind till then . Oft had they roll'd O'er erring Man the year , and oft disgrac'd The pride of schools , before their course was known Full in its causes and effects to him , All-piercing sage ! who sat not down and dream'd Romantic schemes , defended by the din Of specious words , and tyranny of names ; But , bidding his amazing mind attend , And with heroic patience years on years Deep-searching , saw at last the System dawn , And shine , of all his race , on him alone . What were his raptures then ! how pure ! how strong ! And what the triumphs of old Greece and Rome , By his diminish'd , but the price of boys In some small fray victorious ! when instead Of shatter'd parcels of this earth usurp'd By violence unmanly , and sore deeds Of cruelty and Blood , Nature herself Stood all subdu'd by him , and open laid Her every latent glory to his view . All intellectual eye , our solar Round First gazing thro' , he by the blended power Of Gravitation and Projection saw The whole in silent harmony revolve . From unassisted vision hid , the Moons To chear remoter planets numerous pour'd , By him in all their mingled tracts were seen . He also fix'd the wandering Queen of Night , Whether she wanes into a scanty orb , Or , waxing broad , with her pale shadowy light , In a soft deluge overflows the sky . Her every motion clear-discerning , He Adjusted to the mutual Main , and taught Why now the mighty mass of water swells Resistless , heaving on the broken rocks And the full river turning ; till again The tide revertive , unattracted , leaves A yellow waste of idle sands behind . Then breaking hence , he took his ardent flight Thro' the blue Infinite ; and every Star , Which the clear concave of a winter's night Pours on the eye , or astronomic tube , Far-stretching , snatches from the dark abyss , Or such as farther in successive skies To fancy shine alone , at his approach Blaz'd into Suns , the living centre each Of an harmonious system : all combin'd , And rul'd unerring by that single power , Which draws the stone projected to the ground . O unprofuse magnificence divine ! O Wisdom truly perfect ! thus to call From a few causes such a scheme of things , Effects so various , beautiful , and great , An universe compleat ! and , O belov'd Of heaven ! whose well-purg'd penetrative eye , The mystic veil transpiercing , inly scann'd The rising , moving , wide-establish'd frame . He , first of men , with awful wing pursu'd The Comet thro' the long Eliptic curve , As round innumerous worlds he wound his way ; Till , to the forehead of our evening sky Return'd , the blazing wonder glares anew , And o'er the trembling nations shakes dismay . The heavens are all his own ; from the wild rule Of whirling Vortices , and circling Spheres , To their first great simplicity restor'd . The schools astonish'd stood ; but found it vain To keep at odds with demonstration strong , And , unawaken'd , dream beneath the blaze Of truth . At once their pleasing visions sled , With the gay shadows of the morning mix'd , When Newton rose , our philosophie sun . Th' aerial flow of Sound was known to him , From whence it first in wavy circles breaks , Till the touch'd organ takes the meaning in . Nor could the darting Beam , of speed immense , Escape his swift pursuit , and measuring eye . Even Light itself , which every things displays , Shone undiscover'd , till his brighter mind Untwisted all the shining robe of day ; And , from the whitening undistinguish'd blaze , Collecting every ray into his kind , To the charm'd eye educ'd the gorgeous train Of Parent-Colours . First the flaming Red Sprung vivid forth ; the tawny Orange next ; And next delicious Yellow ; by whose side Fell the kind beams of all-refreshing Green . Then the pure Blue , that swells autumnal skies , Ethereal play'd ; and then , of sadder hue , Emerg'd the deepen'd Indico , as when The heavy-skirted evening droops with frost . While the last gleamings of refracted light Dy'd in the fainting Violet away . These , when the clouds distil the rosy shower , Shine out distinct adown the watry bow ; While o'er our heads the dewy vision bends Delightful , melting on the fields beneath . Myriads of mingling dies from these result , And myriads still remain — Infinite source Of beauty , ever-flushing , ever-new ! Did ever poet image ought so fair , Dreaming in whispering groves , by the hoarse brook ! Or prophet , to whose rapture heaven descends ! Even now the setting sun and shifting clouds , Seen , Greenwich , from thy lovely heights , declare How just , how beauteous the refractive Law . The noiseless Tide of Time , all bearing down To vast Eternity's unbounded sea Where the green islands of the happy shine , He stemm'd alone ; and to the source ( involv'd Deep in primaeval gloom ) ascending , rais'd His lights at equal distances , to guide Historian , wilder'd on his darksome way . But who can number up his labours ? who His high discoveries sing ? when but a few Of the deep-studying race can stretch their minds To what he knew : in fancy's lighter thought , How shall the muse then grasp the mighty theme ? What wonder thence that his Devotion swell'd Responsive to his knowledge ! for could he , Whose piercing mental eye diffusive saw The finish'd University of things , In all its order , magnitude , and parts , Forbear incessant to adore that Power Who fills , sustains , and actuates the whole . Say , ye who best can tell , ye happy few , Who saw him in the softest lights of life , All un-with-held , indulging to his friends The vast unborrow'd treasures of his mind , Oh speak the wondrous man ! how mild , how calm , How greatly humble , how divinely good ; How firm establish'd on eternal truth ; Fervent in doing well , with every nerve Still pressing on , forgetful of the past , And panting for perfection : far above Those little cares , and visionary joys , That so perplex the fond impassion'd heart Of ever-cheated , ever-trusting man . This , Conduit , from thy rural hours we hope ; As thro' the pleasing shade , where Nature pours Her every sweet , in studious ease you walk ; The social passions smiling at thy heart , That glows with all the recollected sage . And you , ye hopeless gloomy-minded tribe , You who , unconscious of those nobler flights That reach impatient at immortal life , Against the prime endearing pivilege Of Being dare contend , say , can a soul Of such extensive , deep , tremendous powers , Enlarging still , be but a finer breath Of spirits dancing thro' their tubes awhile , And then for ever lost in vacant air ? But hark ! methinks I hear a warning voice , Solemn as when some awful change is come , Sound thro' the world — " 'Tis done ! — The measure's full ; " And I resign my charge . — Ye mouldering stones , That build the towering pyramid , the proud Triumphal arch , the monument effac'd By ruthless ruin , and whate'er supports The worshipp'd name of hoar antiquity , Down to the dust ! what grandeur can ye boast While Newton lifts his column to the skies , Beyond the waste of time — Let no weak drop Be shed for him . The virgin in her bloom Cut off , the joyous youth , and darling child , These are the tombs that claim the tender tear , And Elegiac song . But Newton calls For other notes of gratulation high , That now he wanders thro' those endless worlds He here so well descried , and wondering talks , And hymns their author with his glad compeers . O Britain's boast ! whether with angels thou Sittest in dread discourse , or fellow-blest , Who joy to see the honour of their kind ; Or whether , mounted on cherubic wing , Thy swift career is with the whirling orbs , Comparing things with things , in rapture lost , And grateful adoration , for that light So plenteous ray'd into thy mind below , From Light Himself ; Oh look with pity down On human-kind , a frail erroneous race ! Exalt the spirit of a downward world ! O'er thy dejected country chief preside , And be her Genius call'd ! her studies raise , Correct her manners , and inspire her youth . For , tho' deprav'd and sunk , she brought thee forth , And glories in thy name ; she points thee out To all her sons , and bids them eye thy star : While in expectance of the second life , When Time shall be no more , thy sacred dust Sleeps with her kings , and dignifies the scene . The END .