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