Chapter IX

But if the charms of daisied hill and vale,
And rolling flood, and towering rock sublime,
If warrior deed or peasant's lowly tale
Of love or wo should fail to wake the rhyme,
If to the wildest heights of song you climb,
(Tho' some who know you less, might cry, beware!)
Onward! I say--your strains shall conquer time;
Give your bright genius wing, and hope to share
Imagination's worlds--the ocean, earth, and air.