TO That GREAT-THINKER, Dr. THOMAS BURNET, On His SACRED THEORY of the EARTH. Joseph Addison Anonymous Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T143099 M288 K111808.000 Addison, Joseph, 1672-1719. Mr. Addison's fine ode to Dr. Thomas Burnet, on his sacred theory of the earth: Done into English by the author of a late tale call'd Coffee. Ad insignissimum virum, D. Thomam Burnettum. English. London printed for T. Warner 1727 pp. []-15. [4],15,[1]p. ; 4⁰.

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TO That GREAT-THINKER , Dr. THOMAS BURNET , On His SACRED THEORY of the EARTH . NO usual Flight of Verse , BURNET ! no soft-strung Lyre , No slack Neap-tide of Wit , Thy high Demands require : Thy Physiologic-Ken , With Justice , may refuse The insufficient Homage , Of my Demi-Muse . Thy curious Eye discerns Seeds justling Seeds for Room , The Mud-built Shell , and Seas Within its spacious Womb . In gen'rous Search of Truth , Thou feel'st No mean-soul'd Terror ; Scornful of Doctoral-Device , Or Vulgar-Error . But , Hark ! the crumbling Crust , Ill-propp'd , cracks loud asunder : Mark next ! Earth's headlong Plunge , Amidst the Fluids under . Imprison'd Waves , disturb'd , Start from their midland Bed ; And , with impetuous Rage , O'er their Oppressor spread . Huge Fragments , shapeless Lumps , Immanely float around ; Vast , hideous , Shatters Of primigenial Ground ! The now free-wallowing Whale , With all the finny Race ; Stare at the Sun , astonish'd By his golden Face : The silver Moon and Stars Then gild the Watry-way , And on its curling Surface Tremulously play . How strong thy Words ! What must we Thy Large-Genius call ? No Copy can come Up , To thy Original . Whence was the first Discov'ry , Of thy Nostrum , made ? To bar again such Flood-gates , When once Open laid ! What Fears , what Jealousies , Distract the thoughtful Head ? Since taught by Thee ! our Feet On faithless Ruins tread . But still ! this Rubbish , rescu'd From Diluvian-Fate ; Kind Providence restores , To it's primeval State . Lo ! the Grand-Architect , In secondary Ire ; With alter'd Scheme refines A Globe relaps'd , by Fire . From His consuming Torch ; This just Vindictive brings , Inclusively , one Fun'ral-Pile To Men and Things . The lofty'st Alp , at first , Griev'd for it's dripping Ice ; Gutt'ring , at last , It-Self A molten Quarry lies . And Now pour ratling-down , In furious Career ! The sympathizing Rampiers Of the Atmosphere : Thunder , and Lightning , Lambents , Hail , Wind , Rain , and Snow ; With all th' aspiring Train , Of Meteors from below . Into the common Blaze , Then will thy TOMES be hurl'd ; Impossible to fail , Till jointly with the World ! Here shifts the Scene ; Now cease All sublunary Toils ; On a re-level'd Orb , A sudden Verdure smiles ! A constant Equinox maintains Perpetual Spring , And virtuous Minds Ideas Of Contentment sing . The Architect well-pleas'd , While West-winds balm the Air , Desists ; and lastly says : Behold ! The Work is Fair . What now , Immense Cosmographer ! To Thee is due ? Distanc'd I stop ; — But , if My Prophecy be true : There Paradise-regain'd , Unknowing Care or Want ; Shall , like our Earth , be proud Of Thee it's Habitant . And may'st Thou there in pure Devotions join , With glorious GEORGE , and beauteous CAROLINE ! WHO , far as the Materials will bear , Labour to constitute an EDEN here ; By steadily bestowing their Commands , On best-computing Heads , and best-performing Hands .