LO! in the burning west, the craggy nape Of a proud Ararat! and, thereupon, The Ark, her melancholy voyage done! Yon rampant cloud mimics a lion's shape; There, combats a huge crocodile--agape A golden spear to swallow! and that brown And massy grove, so near yon blazing town, Stirs and recedes--destruction to escape! Yet all is harmless--as the Elysian shades Where Spirits dwell in undisturbed repose-- 10 Silently disappears, or quickly fades: Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of Earth!