American Sages

See on yon dark'ning height bold Franklin tread, Heav'n's awful thunders rolling o'er his head; Convolving clouds the billowy skies deform, And forky flames emblaze the black'ning storm. See the descending streams around him burn, Glance on his rod, and with his guidance turn; He bids conflicting heav'ns their blasts expire, Curbs the fierce blaze, and holds th' imprison'd fire. No more, when folding storms the vault o'erspread, The livid glare shall strike thy race with dread; Nor tow'rs nor temples, shuddering with the sound, Sink in the flames, and spread destruction round. His daring toils, the threat'ning blast that wait, Shall teach mankind to ward the bolts of fate; The pointed steel o'er-top th' ascending spire, And lead o'er trembling walls the harmless fire; In his glad fame while distant worlds rejoice, Far as the lightnings shine, or thunders raise their voice.

See the sage Rittenhouse, with ardent eye, Lift the long tube, and pierce the starry sky: Clear in his view the circling systems roll, And broader splendours gild the central pole. He marks what laws th' eccentric wanderers bind, Copies creation in his forming mind, And bids, beneath his hand, in semblance rise, With mimic orbs, the labours of the skies. There wond'ring crouds with raptur'd eye behold The spangled heavens their mystic maze unfold; While each glad sage his splendid hall shall grace, With all the spheres that cleave th' etherial space.

To guide the sailor in his wand'ring way, See Godfrey's toils reverse the beams of day. His lifted quadrant to the eye displays From adverse skies the counteracting rays; And marks, as devious sails bewilder'd roll, Each nice gradation from the stedfast pole.