Page:The dispensary - a poem in six canto's (sic) (IA b30356775).pdf/98

 Now, those profounder Regions They explore, Where Metals ripen in vast Cakes of Oar. Here sullen to the Sight, at large is spread The dull unwieldy Mass of lumpish Lead. There, giimm'ring in their dawning Beds, are seen The more aspiring Seeds of sprightly Tin. The Copper sparkles next in ruddy Streaks; And in the Gloom betrays its glowing Cheeks. The Silver then with bright and burnish'd Grace, Youth and a blooming Lustre in its Face, To th'Arms of those more yielding Metals flies, And in the Folds of their Embraces lyes. So close they cling, so stubbornly retire; Their Love's more violent than the Chymist's Fire.

Near These the Delegate with Wonder spies Where Floods of living Silver serpentize: Where richest Metals their bright Looks put on, And Golden Streams thro' Amber Channels run. Where Light's gay God descends to ripen Gems, And lend a Lustre brighter than his Beams.

Here he observes the Subterranean Cells, Where wanton Nature sports in idle Shells. Some Helicoeids, some Conical appear; These, Miters emulate; Those, Turbans are. Here Marcasites in various Figure wait, To ripen to a true Metallick State: 'Till Drops that from impending Rocks descend Their Substance petrifie, and Progress end. Nigh, livid Seas of kindled Sulphur flow; And, whilst enrag'd, their Fiery Surges glow: