"Thy mem'ry shall for ever last,
And fame, untir'd, repeat the past —
Deep in the mystic clouds of time
I see a poet call'd to birth —
I hear a lyre, whose source sublime
With wonder thrills the list'ning earth!
The mighty bard, with 'potent art,'
Shall nature's perfect semblance give,
Unlock the springs that move the heart,
And bid the human passions live —
Still in his heav'n-taught page shall  bleed,
And future ages tremble as they read!"