Ye powers unseen, to whom, the bards of Greece br Erected altars; ye who to the mind br More lofty views unfold, and prompt the heart br With more divine emotions; if erewhile br Not quite unpleasing have my votive rites br Of you been deem'd when oft this lonely seat br To you i consecrated; then vouchsafe br Here with your instant energy to crown br My happy solitude. It is the hour br When most i love to invoke you, and have felt br Most frequent your glad ministry divine. br The air is calm: the sun's unveiled orb br Shines in the middle heaven. the harvest round br Stands quiet, and among the golden sheaves br The reapers lie reclin'd. the neighbouring groves br Are mute; nor even a linnet's random strain br Echoeth amid the silence. Let me feel br Your influence, ye kind powers. Aloft in heaven, br Abide ye? or on those transparent clouds br Pass, ye from hill to hill? or on the shades br Which yonder elms cast o'er the lake below br Do you converse retir'd? From what lov'd haunt br Shall i expect you? Let me once more feel br Your influence, o ye kind inspiring powers: br And i will guard it well, nor shall a thought br Rise in my mind, nor shall a passion move br Across my bosom unobserv'd, unstor'd br By faithful memory. and then at some br More active moment, will i call them forth br Anew; and join them in majestic forms, br And give them utterance in harmonious strains; br That all mankind shall wonder at your sway.