UPON THE SIGHT OF A BEAUTIFUL PICTURE,

Praised be the Art whose subtle power could stay

Yon cloud, and fix it in that glorious shape;

Nor would permit the thin smoke to escape,

Nor those bright sunbeams to forsake the day;

Which stopped that band of travellers on their way,

Ere they were lost within the shady wood;

And showed the Bark upon the glassy flood

For ever anchored in her sheltering bay.

Soul-soothing Art! whomMorning, Noon-tide, Even,

Do serve with all their changeful pageantry;

Thou, with ambition modest yet sublime,

Here, for the sight of mortal man, hast given

To one brief moment caught from fleeting time

The appropriate calm of blest eternity,