A Summer Evening's Meditation.

A Summer Evening's Meditation . One sun by day , by night ten thousand shine . YOUNG . 'TIS past ! The sultry tyrant of the south Has spent his short-liv'd rage ; more grateful hours Move silent on ; the skies no more repel The dazzled sight , but with mild maiden beams Of temper'd light , invite the cherish'd eye To wander o'er their sphere ; where hung aloft DIAN's bright crescent , like a silver bow New strung in heaven , lifts high its beamy horns Impatient for the night , and seems to push Her brother down the sky . Fair VENUS shines Even in the eye of day ; with sweetest beam Propitious shines , and shakes a trembling flood Of soften'd radiance from her dewy locks . The shadows spread apace ; while meeken'd Eve Her cheek yet warm with blushes , slow retires Thro' the Hesperian gardens of the west , And shuts the gates of day . 'Tis now the hour When Contemplation , from her sunless haunts , The cool damp grotto , or the lonely depth Of unpierc'd woods , where wrapt in solid shade She mused away the gaudy hours of noon , And fed on thoughts unripen'd by the sun , Moves forward ; and with radiant finger points To yon blue concave swell'd by breath divine , Where , one by one , the living eyes of heaven Awake , quick kindling o'er the face of ether One boundless blaze ; ten thousand trembling fires , And dancing lustres , where th' unsteady eye Restless , and dazzled wanders unconfin'd O'er all this field of glories : spacious field ! And worthy of the master : he , whose hand With hieroglyphics older than the Nile , Inscrib'd the mystic tablet ; hung on high To public gaze , and said , adore , O man ! The finger of thy GOD . From what pure wells Of milky light , what soft o'erflowing urn , Are all these lamps so fill'd ? these friendly lamps , For ever streaming o'er the azure deep To point our path , and light us to our home . How soft they slide along their lucid spheres ! And silent as the foot of time , fulfil Their destin'd courses : Nature's self is hush'd , And , but a scatter'd leaf , which rustles thro' The thick-wove foliage , not a sound is heard To break the midnight air ; tho' the rais'd ear , Intensely listening , drinks in every breath . How deep the silence , yet how loud the praise ! But are they silent all ? or is there not A tongue in every star that talks with man , And wooes him to be wise ; nor wooes in vain : This dead of midnight is the noon of thought , And wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars . At this still hour the self-collected soul Turns inward , and beholds a stranger there Of high descent , and more than mortal rank ; An embryo GOD ; a spark of fire divine , Which must burn on for ages , when the sun , ( Fair transitory creature of a day ! ) Has clos'd his golden eye , and wrapt in shades Forgets his wonted journey thro' the east . Ye citadels of light , and seats of GODS ! Perhaps my future home , from whence the soul Revolving periods past , may oft look back With recollected tenderness , on all The various busy scenes she left below , Its deep laid projects and its strange events , As on some fond and doting tale that sooth'd Her infant hours ; O be it lawful now To tread the hallow'd circle of your courts , And with mute wonder and delighted awe Approach your burning confines . Seiz'd in thought On fancy's wild and roving wing I sail , From the green borders of the peopled earth , And the pale moon , her duteous fair attendant ; From solitary Mars ; from the vast orb Of Jupiter , whose huge gigantic bulk Dances in ether like the lightest leaf ; To the dim verge , the suburbs of the system , Where chearless Saturn 'midst her wat'ry moons Girt with a lucid zone , majestic sits In gloomy grandeur ; like an exil'd queen Amongst her weeping handmaids : fearless thence I launch into the trackless deeps of space , Where , burning round , ten thousand suns appear , Of elder beam ; which ask no leave to shine Of our terrestrial star , nor borrow light From the proud regent of our scanty day ; Sons of the morning , first born of creation , And only less than him who marks their track , And guides their fiery wheels . Here must I stop , Or is there aught beyond ? What hand unseen Impels me onward thro' the glowing orbs Of habitable nature ; far remote , To the dread confines of eternal night , To solitudes of vast unpeopled space , The desarts of creation , wide and wild ; Where embryo systems and unkindled suns Sleep in the womb of chaos ; fancy droops , And thought astonish'd stops her bold career . But oh thou mighty mind ! whose powerful word Said , thus let all things be , and thus they were , Where shall I seek thy presence ? how unblam'd Invoke thy dread perfection ? Have the broad eye-lids of the morn beheld thee ? Or does the beamy shoulder of Orion Support thy throne ? O look with pity down On erring guilty man ; not in thy names Of terrour clad ; not with those thunders arm'd That conscious Sinai felt , when fear appall'd The scatter'd tribes ; thou hast a gentler voice , That whispers comfort to the swelling heart , Abash'd , yet longing to behold her Maker . But now my soul unus'd to stretch her powers In flight so daring , drops her weary wing , And seeks again the known accustom'd spot , Drest up with sun , and shade , and lawns , and streams , A mansion fair and spacious for its guest , And full replete with wonders . Let me here Content and grateful , wait th' appointed time And ripen for the skies : the hour will come When all these splendours bursting on my sight Shall stand unveil'd , and to my ravish'd sense Unlock the glories of the world unknown .