It would exceed the Purport of my Song,
To say how this  from orient Climes,
Came beaming Life and Beauty all along,
Before him chasing Indolence and Crimes.
Still as he pass'd, the Nations he sublimes,
And calls forth Arts and Virtue with his Ray:
Then  and  their Golden Times,
Successive, had; but now in Ruins grey
They lie, to slavish Sloth and Tyranny a Prey.