In raptur'd strains thy praise was hymn'd of old,* |
Hence, not unconscious to his orient beam, |
When, at their noontide height, his fervid rays, |
Nor food to the enlighten'd mind alone,- |
Did raging pestilence her shores invade |
nificent treasures of gold, |
But far beyond the bounds of Afric borne, |
Where'er fair Science dawn'd on Asia's shore, |