Page:The works of Anna Laetitia Barbauld volume 1.djvu/170

86 And fondly blessed each rising charm, Nor thought such innocence could harm The peace of future days. But now despotic o'er the plains The awful noon of beauty reigns, And kneeling crowds adore; Its beams arise too fiercely bright, Danger and death attend the sight, And I must hope no more. Thus to the rising God of day Their early vows the Persians pay, And bless the spreading fire; Whose glowing chariot mounting soon Pours on their heads the burning noon; They sicken, and expire.