Near, some imperial city seems to reign,
Triumphant o'er the subject land;
With domes of art Vitruvian crown'd.
See gleam her gilded spires around,
Her gates in aweful grandeur stand.
Equal to shine in peace, or war sustain;
Her mighty bulwarks threat the plain
With many a work of death, and armed mound.
Where rolls her wealthy river deep and wide,
Tall groves of crowded masts arise;
Their streamers waving to the skies,
The banks are white with swelling sails,
And distant vessels stem the tide,
Circling thro' pendant cliffs, and watery dales.
The russet hills, the valleys green beneath,
The sallows brown, and dusky heath,
The yellow corn, empurpled vine,
In union soft their tints combine,
And, Fancy, all engage thine eye
With a sweet variety.
While clouds the fleeting clouds pursue,
In mutual shade, and mutual light,
The changing landscape meets the sight;
'Till the ken no more can view;
And heaven appears to meet the ground;
The rising lands, and azure distance drown'd
Amid the gay horizon's golden bound.