The   rides in tempestuous State,
Whilst menial Guards of Flame his Orders wait,
His waving Vestments shine,
Bright as the , which lately did its Beams resign,
And burnish'd Wreaths of Light shall make his Form Divine,
Strong Beams of Majesty around his temples play,
And the transcendent Gaity of his Face allay,
His  reverend Characters he'll wear,
And both o'erwhelm with Light, and over awe with Fear;
Myriads of Angels shall be there,
And I, perhaps, close the tremendous Rear;
Angels, the first and fairest Sons of Day,
Clad with eternal Youth, and, as their Vestments, gay;