Page:Poems (Barbauld).djvu/34

24 Draw the dread veil that wraps th' eternal throne, And launch our ouls into the bright unknown.

Here ceae my ong. Such arduous themes require A mater's pencil, and a poet's fire: Unequal far uch bright deigns to paint, Too weak her colours, and her lines too faint, My drooping Mue folds up her fluttering wing, And hides her head in the green lap of pring. The