Ye fable clouds! ye darkest fhades of night!
Hide him, for ever hide him, from my thought,
Once all my comfort; fource and foul of joy!
"Know his achievements! ftudy his renown!
Contemplate this amazing univerfe,
Dropt from his hand, with miracles replete!
For what? 'Mid miracles of nobler naire,
To find one miracle of mifery!

To find the being, which alone can know,
And praise his works, a blemish on his praife?
Thro' nature's ample range, in thought to ftray
And start at man, the fingle mourner there,
Breathing high hope! chain'd down to pangs,

and death!

"Knowing is fuff'ring: and shall virtue fhare The figh of knowledge? virtue thares the figh. By training up the fteep of excellent,

By battles fought, and from temptation won,
What gains the, but the pang of feeing worth,
Angelic worth, foon, fhuffled in the dark
With ev'ry vice, and swept to brutal dúst?
"Duty; Religion! thefe, our duty done,
Imply reward. Religion is mistake:
Duty? there's none, but to repel the cheat.
Ye cheats! away; ye daughters of my pride!
Who feign yourselves the fav'rites of the skies:
Ye tow ring hopes! abortive energies!
That tofs and ftruggle in my lying breast,
To scale the skies, and build prefumption there,
As I were heir of eternity;

Vain, vain ambitions! trouble me no more.
As bounded as my being, be my wish.
All is inverted, wifdom is a fool:
Senfe! take the rein; blind paffion! drive us on;
And, ignorance! befriend us on our way;
Yes; give the pulfe full empire; live the brute,
Since, as the brute, we die: the sum of man,
Of godlike man! to revel, and to rot.

"But not on equal terms with other brutes:
Their revels a more poignant relish yield,
And fafer too, they never poifons choofe. [meals,
Inftinct, than reafon, makes more wholfoine
And fends all-marring murmur far away.
For fenfual life they beft philofophize;
Theirs, that ferene, the fages fought in vain :
'Tis man alone expoftulates with heav'n,
His, all the pow'r, and all the cause to mourn.
Shall human eyes alone diffolve in tears?
And bleed, in anguish, none but human hearts?
The wide-ftretcht realm of intellectual woe,
Surpaffing fenfual far, is all our own.
In life fo fatally diftinguish'd, why
Caft in one lot, confounded, lumpt, in death?
"And why then have we thought? Totoil and
eat,
[thought.
Then make our bed in darknefs, needs no
What fuperfluities are reas'ning fouls!
Oh give eternity! or thought deftroy.—
But without thought our curfe were half unfelt!
Its blunted edge wouldfpare the throbbingheart;
And therefore tis beftow'd. I thank thee, reafon,
For aiding life's too fmall calaruities,
And giving being to the dread of death.
Such are thy bounties !-Was it then too much

For me, to trefpafs on the brutal rights ?
Too much for heav'n to make one emmet mo
Too much for chaos to permit my mass
A longer stay with effences unwrought,
Unfathion'd, untormented into man?
Wretched preferment to this round of pains
Wretched capacity of phrenfy, thought!
Wretched capacity of dying, life!
Life,thought,worth,wifdom,all (oh foul revo
Once friends to peace, gone over to the foe.
"Death then has chang'd its nature too

death,

Come to my bofom, thou beft gift of heav'
Bett friend of man! fince man is man no m
Why in this thorny wilderness fo long,
Since there's no promis'd land's ambrofial bo
But why this fumptuous infult o'er our hea
Why this illuftrious canopy difplay'd?
Why to magnificently lodg'd defpair?
At itated periods fure returning, roll,
Thefe glorious orbs, that mortals may comp
Their length of labours, and of pains; nor
Theirmifery's full measure?--fmiles with flow
And fruits promifcuous, ever-teeming earth.
That man may languith in luxurious fcene
And in an Eden mourn his with ring joys?
Claim earth and fkies man's admiration, du
For fuch delights! bleft animals! too wife
To wonder; and too happy to complain!

"Our doom decreed demands amournfulfcer
Why not a dungeon dark for the condemn'd
Why not the dragon's fubterranean den,
For man to howl in? why not his abode
Of the fame difmal colour with his fate?
A Thebes, a Babylon, at vaft expence
Of time, toil, treature, art, for owls and add
As congruous, as, for man, this lofty dome
Which prompts proud thought,and kindles in
defire,

If from her humble chamber in the duft, [fan While proud thought fwells, and high defire The poor worm calls us for her inmates the And round us death's inexorable hand Draws the dark curtain clofe; undrawn no m

"Undrawn no more? behind the cloud
Once I behold a fun; a fun which gilt de
That fable cloud, and turn'd it all to gold:
How the grave's alter'd! fathomlefs as hell
Annihilation! how it yawns before me!
Next moment I may drop from thought, f
The privilege of angels, and of worms, [
An outcast from existence and this fpirit,
This all-pervading, this all-conscious foul,
This particle of energy divine,
Which travels nature, flies from ftar to far
And vifits gods, and emulates their pow'rs,
For ever is extinguifh'd. Horror! death!
Death of that death I fearless once furvey'd
When horror univerfal thall defcend,
And heaven's dark concave urn all human r
On that enormous, unrefunding tomb,
How juft this verfe! this monumental figh

Beneath the lumber of demolish'daworlds,
Of matter, never dignify'd with life, H

Hepread rationals; the fons of heav'n! Think of earth! the property of worms! Irano jejlerday, and not to-morrow ! F'din terror, and in pangs expir'd.” And at thou then a shadow?less than fhadow? Ang? leis than nothing? To have been,

Ant act to be, is lower than unborn.

ambitious? why then make the worm equal? runs thy alte of pleasure high? Wize fure death of every joy? (es? why choose begg'ry in the grave, Ope a bankrupt! and for ever? Deaerat? And is there nought on earth ng train of tranitory forms, Land breaking, millions in an hour? ot a fantaftic lord, blown up -t, and then in cruelty destroy'd? Car what crime, unmerciful Lorenzo, by fcheme the whole of human race? cafell Lucifer compar'd to thee:

this waste of being half divine; *a th' œconomy of heav'n,

Where nought fubftantial, but our misery?
A world, where dark, mysterious vanity
Of good and ill the diftant colours blends,
Confounds all reason, and all hope destroys ;
A world fo far from great (and yet how great
It shines to thee!) there's nothing real in its
Being, a fhadow! confcioufnefs, a dream!
A dream how dreadful! univerfal blank

No spiritual Subftance annibilated. ta omnipotence a naked root, La fair of Deity destroy'd ? dad, nay, nothing fleeps; each foul animated human clay, was; is on the wing: and when the call d trump collects us round heav'n's we bark in everlafting day. [throne, this profpect fhines! how gloomy

Before it, and behind! poor man a spark From non-exiftence struck by wrath divine, Midft upper, nether, and furrounding night, Glitt'ring a moment, nor that moment fure, His fad, fure, fudden, and eternal tomb,

A world! and a devouring God! Lahe fhambles of omnipotence! Rovere all ftain'd with caufelefs maflacres es millions, born to feel the pang cf. Lorenzo, can it be!

Tushudder at the thoughts of life.

§ 259. The World a Syftem of Theology.
The fkies above proclaim immortal man,
And man immortal all below refounds.
The world's a fyftem of theology,

Read by the greatest ftrangers to the schools,
If honeft, learn'd; and fages o'er a plough.
What then is unbelief? 'tis an exploit:
A ftrenuous enterprife: to gain it, man

Must burst thro' ev'ry bar of common fenfe,
Of common fhame, magnanimously wrong;
And what rewards the turdy combatant?
His prize, repentance; infamy, his crown.

§ 260. Virtue the Fruit of Immortality,
THE virtues grow on immortality;
That root deitroy'd, they wither and expire,
A Deity believ'd will nought avail;

Rewards and punishments make God ador'd;
And hopes and fears give conscience all her
As in the dying parent dies the child, [pow'r,
Virtue with immortality expires.

Who tells me he denies his foul immortal,
Whate'er his boat, has told me, he's a knave.
His duty, 'tis to love himself alone,

Nor care, tho' mankind perish, if he fmiles. [are

And are there fuch?-Such candidates there For more than death; for utter lofs of being; Is it in words to paint you? O ye fall'n! Fall'n from the wings of reafon, and of hope! Erect in ftature, prone in appetite! Patrons of pleasure, pofting into pain! Boatters of liberty, faft-bound in chains! More fenfelefs than th' irrationals you scorn! Far more undone! O ye most infamous Of beings, from fuperior dignity! And are you, too, convinc'd, your fouls fly off In exhalation foft, and die in air, From the full flood of evidence against you? In the courfe drudgeries, and finks of fenfe, Your fouls have quite worn out the make of

heav'n

By vice new-caft, and creatures of your own.

§ 261. Free-thinking.

THIS is free-thinking, unconfin'd to parts, To fend the foul, on curious travel bent, Thro' all the r rovinces of human thought,

13

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T

gy Ceulon darkens to despair!

Haman Life compared to the Ocean.
ou dreadful and tumultuous home

at eternal war with man!

where most be domineers, chefen terrors frowning round, feated high at Albion's coft, g, and loud roaring still for more! mirror! how dost thou reflect Tholy face of human life! emblance tempts me farther ftill: Britain may be deeper ftruck , in fuch a mirror feen, e holds for ever at her eye. , unexperienc'd, high in hope, with fanguine cheer and streamers Wele, launch into the world, [gay, dreameach wind and ftar our friend; darling enterprife embark'd: Bere is he can fathom its event? fa maltitude of artless hands, perquilte! her lawful prize Sight: but the black blaft blows hard, 3s them wide of hope: with hearts of

t wind, and tide, fome win their way;
rong effort has deferv'd the port,
it into view, tis won! 'tis loft!
e, and, while they triumph, they

fweather, molt: fome fink outright; ** -r and o'er their names the billows clofe; * knows not they were ever born: short memorial leave behind; feating, when the bark's ingulph'd, moment, and is feen no more; ves, a thou and are forgot. * Smeath aufpicious plan t› born, tar, ne fails make good the promis'd port. air withes freighted! Yet even thefe, It with all their withes, foon complain:

i

§ 268. The Love of Diftin&tion. AMBITION! pleasure ! let us talk of thefe: Doft grafp at greatness? first know what it is: Think it thou thy greatnefs in diftinction lies? Not in the feather, wave it e'er fo high, Is glory lodg'd: 'tis lodg'd in the reverfe; In that which joins, in that which equals all, The monarch, and his flave-"A deathlefs foul, Unbounded profpect, and immortal kin, A father God, and brothers in the fkies !"

We wifely trip the fteed we mean to buy :
Judge we, in their caparifons, of men?
It nought avails thee, where, but what thou art;
All the diftinctions of this little life

Are quite cutaneous, foreign to the man: [creep,
Whenthro'death'streight searth'sfubtile ferpents
Which wriggle into wealth, or climb renown,
They leave their party-colour'd robe behind,
All that now glitters, while they rear aloft
Their brazen crefts, and hifs at us below:
How mean that fnuff of glory fortune lights,
And death puts out! doft thou demand a test.
A test at once infallible and fhort,

Of real greatnefs? that man greatly lives,
Whate'er his fate or fame, who greatly dies:
High flush'd with hope, where heroes shall
defpair.

$269. Pleasure. THOUGH fomewhat difconcerted, steady still To the world's caufe, with half a face of joy, Lorenzo cries, "Be, then, ambition cast; Ambition's dearer far ftands unimpeach'd, Gay pleafure! proud ambition is her flave: Who can refift her charms ?"-Or, should?

Lorenzo!

What mortal shall refift, where angels yield?
Pleafure's the miftrefs of etherial pow'rs;
Pleasure's the miftrefs of the world below:
How would all ftagnate, but for pleasure's ray?
What is the pulfe of this fo bufy world?
The love of pleasure: that, through ev'ry vein,
Throws motion, warmth; and huts out death
from life.

Tho' various are the tempers of mankind,
Pleafure's gay family holds all in chains.
Some most affect the black; and fome the fair :
Whate'er the motive, pleasure is the mark:
For her the black affaffin draws his fword;
Forher,dark ftatefmen trim their midnight-lamp,
To which no fingle facrifice may fall;
The Stoic proud, for pleature, pleasure fcorn'd;
For her, affliction's daughters grief indulge,
L 4

And