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Oh! mark, where Raphael's pure and perfect line Pourtrays that form ineffably divine! 6 Where with transcendent skill his hand has shed Diffusive sunbeams round the Saviour's head; Each heaven-illumined lineament imbued With all the fulness of beatitude, And traced the sainted group, whose mortal sight, Sinks overpowered by that excess of light!

Gaze on that scene, and own the might of Art, By truth inspired, to elevate the heart! To bid the soul exultingly possess, Of all her powers, a heightened consciousness, And strong in hope, anticipate the day, The last of life, the first of freedom's ray; To realize, in some unclouded sphere, Those pictured glories feebly imaged here!