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hat foon fome trufty brother of the trade hall do for him what he has done for thousands. On this fide, and on that, men fee their friends Drop off, like leaves in autumn; yet launch out nto fantastic schemes, which the long livers 470 1 the world's hale and undegen'rate days ould fcarce have leifure for.-Fools that we are, lever to think of death and of ourselves at the fame time: as if to learn to die Vere no concern of ours.---Oh! more than fottish, 'or creatures of a day in gamesome mood, o frolic on eternity's dread brink Inapprehenfive; when, for ought we know, he very firft fwol'n furge fhall fweep us in. Think we, or think we not, time hurries on With a refiftless unremitting ftream; let treads more foft than e'er did midnight-thief, That flides his hand under the miser's pillow, And carries off his prize.What is this world? What? but a fpacious burial-field unwall'd, Strew'd with death's fpoils, the spoils of animals Savage and tame, and full of dead men's bones. The very turf on which we tread once liv'd; And we that live muft lend our carcafes
To cover our own offspring: In their turns 490
They too must cover theirs.'Tis here all meet,
The fhiv'ring Icelander, and funburn'd Moor;
Men of all climes, that never met before;
And of all creeds, the Jew, the Turk, the Chriftian.
Here the proud prince, and favourite yet prouder,
His fov'reign's keeper, and the people's scourge,
Are huddled out of fight.-Here lie abafh'd
The great negotiators of the earth,
And celebrated mafters of the balance,
Deep read in ftratagems, and wiles of courts. 500
Now vain their treaty-fkill:-Death fcorns to
treat;
Here the o'erloaded flave flings down his burden
From his gall'd fhoulders;-and when the ftern
With all his guards and tools of power about him,
Is meditating new unheard of hardships,
Mocks his fhort arm,-and quick as thought efcapes
Where tyrants vex not, and the weary reft.
194. And of all creeds, Jew, Turk, and Christian. 9. Deep read in ftratagem, and fatefmen's wiles. 7
Here the warm lover, leaving the cool fhade,
The tell-tale echo, and the babbling ftream,
(Time out of mind the fav'rite feats of love,) 510
Faft by his gentle miftrefs lays him down,
Unblafted by foul tongue.- -Here friends and foes
Lie clofe; unmindful of their former feuds.
The lawn-rob'd prelate and plain prefbyter,
E'er while that stood aloof, as thy to meet,
Familiar mingle here, like fifter ftreams
That fome rude interpofing rock has split.
Here is the large-limb'd peafant :-Here the child
Of a span long, that never faw the fun,
Nor prefs'd the nipple, ftrangled in life's porch. 520
Here is the mother, with her fons and daughters:
The barren wife, and long-demurring maid,
Whofe lonely unappropriated fweets
Smil'd like yon knot of cowflips on the cliff,
Not to be come at by the willing hand.
Here are the prude, fevere, and gay coquette,
The fober widow, and the young green virgin,
Cropp'd like a rofe before 'tis fully blown,
Or half its worth difclos'd. Strange medly here!
Here garrulous old age winds up his tale;
And jovial youth, of lightfome vacant heart,
Whofe ev'ry-day was made of melody, [fhrew,
Hears not the voice of mirth. -The thrill-tongu'd
Meek as the turtle-dove, forgets her chiding.
Here are the wife, the generous, and the brave;
The juft, the good, the worthlefs, and profane,
The downright clown, and perfectly well-bred;
The fool, the churl, the fcoundrel, and the mean,
The fupple statesman, and the patriot stern;
The wrecks of nations, and the fpoils of time,
With all the lumber of fix thousand years.
Poor man!-how happy once in thy firft ftate! When yet but warm from thy great Maker's hand, He flamp'd thee with his image, and, well pleas'd, Smil'd on his laft fair work.Then all was well. Sound was the body, and the foul forene; Like two fweet inftruments, ne'er out of tune, That play their feveral parts.-Nor head, nor heart, Offer'd to ache: nor was there caufe they thould; For all was pure within: no fell remorse, Nor anxious caftings-up of what might be, Alarm'd his peaceful bofom.-Summer feas Show not more fmooth, when kifs'd by fouthern winds
Oh! flipp'ry state of things.-What fudden turns!
What ftrange viciffitudes in the first leaf
Of man's fad hiftory!-To-day most happy,
And ere to-morrow's fun has fet, most abject.
How feant the space between these vast extremes!
Thus far'd it with our fire :-Not long h' enjoy'd
His paradife. Scarce had the happy tenant
Of the fair fpot due time to prove its sweets,
Or fum them up, when strait he must be gone,
Ne'er to return again.--And muft he go?
Can nought compound for the firft dire offence
Of erring man?Like one that is condemn'd,
Fain would he trifle time with idle talk,
And parley with his fate.--But 'tis in vain.
Not all the lavifh odours of the place,
Offer'd in incenfe, can procure his pardon,
Or mitigate his doom.- A mighty angel,
With flaming fword, forbids his longer stay,
And drives the loiterer forth; nor must he take
One last and farewell round.-At once he loft 580
His glory, and his God.-If mortal now,
And forely maim'd, no wonder.-Man has finn'd.
Sick of his blifs, and bent on new adventures,
Evil he would needs try: nor try'd in vain.
(Dreadful experiment! deftru&tive measure!
Where the worst thing could happen, is fuccefs.)
Alas! too well he fped:-the good he fcorn'd
Stalk'd off reluctant, like an ill-us'd ghoft,
Not to return; or if it did, its vifits,
Like thofe of angels, fhort and far between: 590
Whilft the black dæmon, with his hell fcap'd train,
Admitted once into its better room,
Grew loud and mutinous, nor would be gone;
Lording it o'er the man: who now too late
Saw the rafh error, which he could not mend:
An error fatal not to him alone,
But to his future fons, his fortune's heirs.
Inglorious bondage!-Human nature groans
Beneath a vaffalage fo vile and cruel,
And its vast body bleeds through ev'ry vein. 6c0
What havoc haft thou made, foul monster, fin!
Greatest and first of ills.-The fruitful parent
Of woes of all dimenfions!--But for thee
Sorrow had never been.-All-noxious thing,
Of vileft nature!-Other forts of evils
Are kindly circumfcrib'd, and have their bounds.
The fierce volcano, from his burning entrails
That belches molten ftone and globes of fire,
Involv'd in pitchy clouds of fmoke and stench, 609
Mars the adjacent fields for fome leagues round,
And there it ftops.-The big-fwoln inundation,
Of mischief more diffufive, raving loud,
Buries whole tracks of country, threat'ning more;
But that too has its fhore it cannot pafs.
More dreadful far than thofe! fin has laid waste,
Not here and there a country, but a world:
Difpatching at a wide-extended blow
Entire mankind; and for their fakes defacing
A whole creation's beauty with rude hands; 619
Blafting the foodful grain and loaded branches,
And marking all along its way with ruin.
588. Stalk'd like a difcontented ghost away. 077. At once difpatching wholesale at a blow.
Accurfed thing!-Oh! where fhall fancy find
A proper name to call thee by, expreflive
Of all thy horrors?-Pregnant womb of ills'
Of temper fo tranfcendently malign,
That toads and ferpents, of moft deadly kind,
Compar'd to thee, are harmless-Sickness
Of every fize and symptom, racking pains,
And blueft plagues, are thine.-See how the fend
Profufely scatters the contagion round!
Whilft deep-mouth'd flaughter, bellowing r
heels,
Wades deep in blood new-fpilt; yet for to
Shapes out new work of great uncommon daru
And inly pines till the dread blow is ftruck.
But hold, I've gone too far; too much discove'.
My father's nakedness, and nature's fhame.
Here let me paufe, and drop an honeft tear,
One burft of filial duty and condolence,
O'er all thofe ample deferts death hath spread,
This chaos of mankind.---O great man-cater
Whofe ev'ry day is carnival, not fated yet!
Unheard-of epicure without a fellow!
The veriet gluttons do not always cram;
Some intervals of abftinence are fought
To edge the appetite: Thou feekest none.
Methinks the countless fwarms thou haft dever
And thousands that each hour thou gobblef
This, lefs than this, might gorge thee to the
But ah! rapacious ftill, thou gap'ft for mart
Like one, whole days defrauded of his meals
On whom lank hunger lays her skinny hand,
And whets to keeneft eagernefs his cravings
As if difeafes, maffacres, and poifon,
Famine, and war, were not thy caterers.
But know, that thou muft render up the
And with high int'reft too. They are not th
But only in thy keeping for a feafon,
Till the great promis'd day of reftitution;
When loud diffufive found from brazen trum?
Of ftrong-lung'd cherub, fhall alarm thy capt
And roufe the long, long fleepers into life,
Day-light, and liberty.
Then must thy doors fly open, and reveal
The mines that lay long forming under groe
In their dark cells immur'd; but now full ra
And pure as filver from the crucible,
That twice has ftood the torture of the fire
And inquifition of the forge.-We know
| Th' illuftrious deliverer of mankind,
The Son of God, thee foil'd.-Him in thy po
Thou could't not hold :-self-vigorous be ret
And fhaking off thy fetters, foon retook
Thofe fpoils his voluntary yielding lent:
(Sure pledge of our releafment from thy thr
Twice twenty days he fojourn'd here on earth,
And fhow'd himself alive to chosen witr-Les
By proofs fo ftrong, that the most flow at
624. Of thy intrinfic filth Big-bellied ill' 649. But ah! 'tis otherwife; thou gap'ft for Like one that is defrauded of his mean 642. And gives the keenelt edge unto his crav 663. Thofe fpoils that were but thine by ba yielding
↑ Had not a fcruple left.-This having done,
He mounted up to heav'n. Methinks I fee him
Climb the aerial heights, and glide along
Athwart the fevering clouds: but the faint eye,
Flung backwards in the chase, foon drops its hold;
Difabled quite, and jaded with purfuing.
Heaven's portals wide expand to let him in ;
Nor are his friends fhut out: As a great prince
Not for himself alone procures admiflion,
But for his train.It was his royal will,
That where he is, there should his followers be.
Death only lies between.-A gloomy path!
Made yet more gloomy by our coward fears: 690
But nor untrod, nor tedious: the fatigue
Will foon go off.-Befides, there's no bye-road
To blifs.-Then, why, like ill-condition'd children,
Start we at tranfient hardfhips in the way
That leads to purer air, and fofter skies,
And a ne'er-fetting fun?-Fools that we are!
We wish to be, where sweets unwith`ring bloom;
But ftrait our wifh revoke, and will not go.
So have I feen, upon a fummer's ev'n,
Faft by the riv'let's brink, a youngster play: 700
How wishfully he looks to ftem the tide!
This moment refolute, next unrefolv'd:
At last he dips his foot; but as he dips,
His fears redouble, and he runs away
From th' inoffenfive ftream, unmindful now
Of all the flow'rs that paint the further bank,
And fmil'd fo fweet of late.-Thrice welcome
death!
That after many a painful bleeding step
Conducts us to our home, and lands us fafe 709
On the long-wifh'd-for fhore.-Prodigious change!
Our bane turn'd to a bleffing-Death, difarm'd,
Lofes its fellnefs quite. All thanks to him
Who fcourg'd the venom out.Sure the laft end
Of the good man is peace!-How calm his exit !
Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground,
Nor weary worn-out winds expire so foft.
Behold him in the evening-tide of life,
A life well-fpent, whofe early care it was
His riper years should not upbraid his green:
By unperceiv'd degrees he wears away;
and with great steps Stride o'er the pillar'd clouds. But, &c. 684. Heaven's gates are strait unbarr'd to let him in 686. Not only for himself procures admiffion, But for his train; fo he. It was his will, &c. 705. unmindful more Of all the daifies on the further bank, Of late that fmil'd fo fweet. come death! &c.
Yet, like the fun, feems larger at his fetting.
(High in his faith and hopes), look how he reaches
After the prize in view! and, like a bird
That's hamper'd, ftruggles hard to get away:
Whilft the glad gates of fight are wide expanded
To let new glories in, the first fair fruits
Of the faft-coming harvest.-Then, oh then!
Each earth-born joy grows vile, or disappears,
Shrunk to a thing of nought.---Oh! how he longs
To have his paffport fign'd, and be difmifs'd! 730
'Tis done! and now he's happy!--The glad foul
Has not a wish uncrown'd.---Ev'n the lag flesh
Refts too in hope of meeting once again
Its better half, never to funder more.
Nor fhall it hope in vain :-The time draws on
When not a single spot of burial earth,
Whether on land, or in the fpacious fea,
But must give back its long-committed duft
Inviolate and faithfully fhall these
Make up the full account; not the leaft atom 740
Embezzl'd, or mislaid, of the whole tale.
Each foul fhall have a body ready furnish'd; | And each shall have his own.---Hence, ye profane! Afk not, how this can be ?---Sure the fame pow`r That rear'd the piece at firft, and took it down, Can re-affemble the loofe fcatter'd parts, And put them as they were.---Almighty God Has done much more; nor is his arm impair'd Through length of days: And what he can, he will: His faithfulness ftands bound to fee it done. 750 When the dread trumpet founds, the flumb'ring duft, Not unattentive to the call), fhall wake: And ev'ry joint poffefs its proper place, With a new elegance of form, unknown To its first state.Nor fhall the confcious foul Miftake its partner, but amidst the crowd Singling its other half, into its arms Shall ruth with all th' impatience of a man That's new come home, and, having long been abfent,
With hafte runs over ev'ry different room,
In pain to fee the whole. Thrice happy meeting!
Nor time, nor death, fhall ever part them more.
'Tis but a night, a long and moonlefs night;
We make the grave our bed, and then are gone.
Thus, at the fhut of ev'n, the weary bird
Leaves the wide air, and in fome lonely brake
Cow'rs down, and dozes till the dawn of day,
Then claps his well-fledg'd wings, and bears away.
Which, from the crowded journal of thy fame, Which of thy many titles fhall I name? For, like a gallant prince, that wins a crown, By undisputed right before his own, Variety thou hast our only care Is what to fingle out, and what for bear.
Though fcrupulously juft, yet not severe ; Though cautious, open; courteous, yet fincere; Though rev'rend, yet not magifterial; Though intimate with few, yet lov'd by all; Though deeply read, yet abfolutely free From all the stiffneffes of pedantry: Though circumfpe&tly good, yet never four; Pleafant with innocence, and never more. Religion worn by thee, attractive show'd, And with its own unborrow'd beauty glow'd: Unlike the bigot, from whofe watery eyes Ne'er funshine broke, nor fmile was feen to rife; Whofe fickly goodness lives upon grimace, And pleads a merit from a blubber'd face. Thou kept thy raiment for the needy poor, And taught the fatherless to know thy door; From griping hunger fet the needy free; That they were needy was enough to thee.
Thy fame to pleafe, whilft others reftless be, Fame laid her fhynefs by, and courted thee; And though thou bade the flatt'ring thing give o'er, Yet, in return, fhe only woo'd thee more..
How fweet thy accents! and how mild thy look! What fmiling mirth was heard in all thou spoke ! Manhood and grizzled age were fond of thee, And youth itself fought thy fociety.
The ag'd thou taught, defcended to the young,
Clear'd up th' irrefolute, confirm'd the strong;
To the perplex'd thy friendly counfel lent,
And gently lifted up the diffident;
Sigh'd with the forrowful, and bore a part
In all the anguifh of a bleeding heart:
Reclaim'd the headftrong, and with facred skill,
Committed hallow'd rapes upon the will;
Sooth'd our affections, and, with their delight,
To gain our actions, brib'd our appetite.
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Now who fhall, with a greatnefs like thy own, Thy pulpit dignify, and grace thy gown? Who with pathetic energy like thine, The head enlighten, and the heart refine! Learn'd were thy lectures, noble the defign, The language Roman, and the action fine The heads well rang'd, the inferences clear, And strong and folid thy deductions were: [wrong, Thou mark'd the bound'ries out 'twixt right and And fhow'd the land-marks as thou went along. Plain were thy reasonings, or if perplext Thy life was the best comment on thy text; For if in darker points we were deceiv'd, 'Twas only but obferving how thou liv'd.
Bewilder'd in the greatness of thy fame,
What fhall the mufe, what next in order name?
Which of thy facial qualities commend?
Whether of husband, father, or of friend!
A husband foft, beneficent and kind,
As ever virgin wifh'd, or wife could find;
A father indefatigably true
To both a father's truft and tutor's too.
A friend affectionate and staunch to those
Thou wifely fingled out; for few thou chofe;
Few, did I fay, that word we must recal,
A friend, a willing friend thou waft to all
Those properties were thine, nor could we know
Which rofe the uppermost, so all was thou.
So have I feen the many-colour'd mead,
Brush'd by the vernal breeze, its fragrance fhed:
Though various fweets the various field exhald,
Yet could we not determine which prevail'd,
Nor this part refe, that boney-fuckle, call,
But a rich bloomy aggregate of all
And, thou, the once glad partner of his be
But now by forrow's weeds diftinguished,
Whole bufy memory thy grief fupplies,
And calls up all thy husband to thine eyes;
Thou must not be forgot. How alter'd now!
How thick thy tears! How fast thy forrows for
The well known voice that cheer'd thee heretofarz
These foothing accents, thou must hear no man.
Untold by all the tender fighs thou drew,
When on thy check he fetch'd a long adieu.
Untold be all thy faithful agonies,
At the last anguish of his clofing eyes:
For thou, and only fuch as thou, can tell
The killing anguish of a laft farewell.
This earth, yon fun, and thefe blue-tindr fkies,
Through which it rolls, must have their obfequa Pluck'd from their orbits, shall the planets fall, And smoke and conflagration cover all : What then is man? The creature of a day, By moments spent, and minutes borne away, Time, like a raging torrent, hurries on ; Scarce can we fay it is, but that 'tis gone.
Whether, fair fhade! with focial spirits, tel (Whose properties thou once defcrib'd fo wel Familiar now thou hearest them relate The rites and methods of their happy state. Or if, with forms more fleet, thou roams abroa And views the great magnificence of God, Points out the courses of the orbs on high, And counts the filver wonders of the sky; Or if, with glowing feraphim, thou greets Heav'n's King, and fhouteft through the gaz ftreets,
That crowds of white-rob'd chorifters difplay, Marching in triumph through the pearly way?
Now art thou rais'd beyond this world of This weary wilderness, this vale of tears, Forgetting all thy toils and labours paft, No gloom of forrow ftains thy peaceful breat Now 'midft feraphic fplendours fhalt thou dw And be what only thefe pure forms can tell How cloudless now, and cheerful is thy day! What joys, what raptures, in thy bofom play! How bright the funfhine, and how pure the There's no difficulty of breathing there.
With willing fteps, a pilgrim at thy fhrine, To dew it with my tears the task be mine; In lonely dirge, to murmur o'er thy urn, And with new gather'd flowers thy turf adorn: Nor fhall thy image from my bofom part, No force fhall rip thee from this bleeding heart; Oft fhall I think o'er all I've left in thee, Nor fhall oblivion blot thy memory: But grateful love its energy exprefs (The father's gone) now to the fatherles
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