Thus, ardent, burst his Strain.
"Ye hapless Race,
" Dire-labouring here to smother Reason's Ray,
"That lights our Maker's Image in our Face,
" And gives us wide o'er Earth unquestion'd Sway;
"What is TH' ADOR'd SUPREME PERFECTION, say?
" What, but eternal never-resting Soul,
"Almighty Power, and all-directing Day;
" By whom each Atom stirs, the Planets roll;
"Who fills, surrounds, informs, and agitates the Whole?