Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 17.djvu/463



IN amaze Lost I gaze! Can our eyes Reach thy size? May my lays Swell with praise, Worthy thee! Worthy me! Muse, inspire All thy fire! Bards of old Of him told, When they said Atlas' head Propp'd the skies: See! and believe your eyes! See him stride Vallies wide. Over woods, Over floods! When he treads, Mountains heads Groan