IX.

As the sun from out the orient Pours a wider, warmer light, Till he floods both earth and ocean, Blazing from the zenith's height; So the glory of our poet, In its deathless power serene, Shines--as rolling time advances-- Warmer felt, and wider seen: First Doon's banks and braes contain'd it, Then his country form'd its span; Now the wide world is its empire, And its throne the heart of man.