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<B 1> <P 5> <L 1> With what attractive charms this goodly frame Of nature touches the consenting hearts Of mortal men, and what the pleasing stores Which beauteous Imitation thence derives <P 6> To deck the poet's, or the painter's toil, My verse unfolds. Attend, ye gentle powers Of musical delight! and, while I sing Your gifts, your honours, dance around my strain. Thou, smiling queen of every tuneful breast, Indulgent Fancy! from the fruitful banks Of Avon, whence thy rosy fingers cull Fresh flowers and dews to sprinkle on the turf Where Shakespeare lies, be present; and with thee Let Fiction come, upon her vagrant wings Wafting ten thousand colours through the air, And, by the glances of her magic eye, Combining each in endless fairy forms, Her wild creation. Goddess of the lyre Which rules the accents of the moving sphere, Wilt thou, eternal Harmon! descend And join this festive train? for with thee comes The guide, the guardian of their lovely sports, Majestic Truth; and where Tru . . .
