Father of Verse, whose eagle flight
Fatigues the gazer's aching sight,
And strains th' aspiring mind:
Teach me thy wonderous heights to view,
With trembling wings thy steps pursue,
And leave the lessening world behind.
Fond, foolish wish! — Can human eyes
The rapid arrow's track descry?
Can gross Mortality arise,
And spring beyond the vaulted sky?
Lost is the momentary path, and bound
By cumbrous chains we creep along the ground!