GRACE, as the Sun, incessantly its light Dilates upon the universal face. Pagans, that sit in Antipodian night, Taste, by reflex of reason, beams of grace: Their sickly planet, queen of night not sleep, Her wakeful eye in the Sun's beams may steep. Grace is the soul's soul; the informing part Reason, like Phosper, ushers in the day; But the terrene affections of the heart Repel which Pharean clouds this sacred ray. Internal, as external, night alone Springs from the Earth's interposition. Goodness is priz'd by her own latitude: The Persian, wisest of idolaters, Adores the Sun, as the most common good, From whose balm Nature's hand nothing inters Worse than the Caliph is that votary, Who worships a less loving deity. The Sun would raise this Globe to nobler birth Transforming into gold each mineral; But, in disposure of the stubborn earth, Renders his virtue ineffectual. Thus Grace endeavours all to sublimate: Then blame thyself, if not regenerate! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EMULATION by SARAH FYGE EGERTON SESTINA: ALTAFORTE by EZRA POUND THE THORN by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A CRADLE SONG by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS PSALM 143 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ANSWER TO -'S PROFESSSIONS OF AFFECTION by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |