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Its proper bounds, and due reftriction knows;
To one fx'd purpofe dedicates its pow'r ;
And finishing its act, exists no more.

Thus, in obedience to what Heav'n decrees,
Knowledge fhall fail, and prophecy fhall cease;
But lafting charity's more ample fway,
Nor bound by time, nor fubject to decay,
In happy triumph fhall for ever live ;

And endless good diffuse, and endless praise receive.
As through the artift's intervening glafs,
Our eye obferves the distant planets pafs;
A little we difcover; but allow,

That more remains unfeen, than art can show;
So whilft our mind its knowledge would improve,
(Its feeble eye intent on things above,)
High as we may, we lift our reafon up,

By faith directed, and confirm'd by hope ;
Yet are we able only to furvey

Dawnings of beams, and promises of day;
Heav'n's fuller effluence mocks our dazzled fight;
Too great its fwiftnefs, and too strong its light.
But foon the mediate clouds fhall be difpell'd;
The fun fhall foon be face to face beheld,
In all his robes, with all his glory on,
Seated fublime on his meridian throne.

Then conftant faith, and holy hope fhall die,
One loft in certainty, and one in joy:
While thot, more happy pow'r, fair charity,
Triumphant fifter, greatest of the three,
Thy office, and thy nature ftill the fame,
Lafting thy lamp, and unconfum'd thy flame,
Shalt ftill furvive-

Shalt ftand before the host of heav'n confeft,
For ever bleffing, and for ever blest.

SECTION VII.

PICTURE OF A GOOD MAN.

SOME angel guide my pencil, while I draw,
What nothing less than angel can exceed,
A man on earth devoted to the fkies;
Like hips at fea, while in, above the world..
With afpect mild, and elevated eye,

FRIOR

Behold him feated on a mount ferene,
Above the fogs of fenfe, and paffion's storm;
All the black cares, and tumults, of this life,
Like harmless thunders, breaking at his feet,
Excite his pity, not impair his peace.
Earth's genuine fons, the fceptered, and the flave,
A mingled mob! a wand'ring herd! he fees,
Bewilder'd in the vale; in all unlike!

His full reverse in all! What higher praise ?
What ftronger demonftration of the right?
The prefent all their care; the future his.
When public welfare calls, or private want,
They give to fame; his bounty he conceals.
Their virtue varnish nature; his exalt.
Mankind's esteem they court; and he his own.
Theirs the wild chafe of falfe felicities;
His, the compos'd poffeffion of the true.
Alike throughout is his confiftent piece,
All of one colour, and an even thread;
While party colour'd fhreds of happiness,
With hideous gaps between, patch up for them
A madman's robe; each puff of fortune blows
The tatters by, and shows their nakedness.

:

He fees with other eyes than theirs where they Behold a fun, he' spies a Deity;

What makes them only smile, makes him adore.
Where they fee mountains, he but atoms fees;
An empire in his balance, weighs a grain.
They things terrestrial worship, as divine:
His hopes immortal blow them by, as duft,
That dims his fight, and fhortens his furvey,
Which longs, in infinite, to lofe all bound.
Titles and honours (if they prove his fate)
He lays afide to find his dignity;
No dignity they find in aught befides.
They triumph in externals, (which conceal
Man's real glory,) proud of an cclipfe :
Himfelf too much he prizes to be proud;
And nothing thinks fo great in man, as man.
Too dear he holds his int'reft, to neglect
Another's welfare, or his right invade;
Their int'reft, like a lion, lives on prey.

They kindle at the fhadow of a wrong;
Wrong he fuftains with temper, looks on heav'n,
Nor ftoops to think his injurer his foe:
Nought, but what wounds his virtue, wounds his
A cover'd heart their character defends;
A cover'd heart denies him half his praise.
With nakedness his innocence agrees!
While their broad foliage teftifies their fall!
Their no joys end, where his full feaft begins:
His joys create, theirs murder, future blifs.
To triumph in existence, his alone;
And his alone triumphantly to think
His true existence is not yet begun.

His glorious courfe was, yesterday, complete :
Death, then, was welcome; yet life ftill is fweet.

SECTION VIII.

THE PLEASURES OF RETIREMENT.

O KNEW he but his happiness, of men

peace..

The happieft he! who, far from public rage,
Deep in the vale, with a choice few retir'd,
Drinks the pure pleatures of the rural life.
What tho' the dome be wanting, whofe proud gate,
Each morning, vomits out the fneaking crowd
Of flatterers falfe, and in their turn abus'd!
Vile intercourfe! What tho' the glitt❜ring robe,
Of ev'ry hue reflected light can give,

Or floated loofe, or ftiff with mazy gold,
The pride and gaze of fools, oppress him not?
What tho' from utmost land and fea purvey'd,
For him each rarer tributary life
Bleeds not, and his infatiate table heaps
With luxury, and death? What tho' his bowl
Flames not with coftly juice; nor funk in beds
Oft of gay care, he toffes out the night,
Or melts the thoughtless hours in idle state?
What tho' he knows not thofe fantastic joys,
That still amufe the wanton, ftill deceive
A face of pleasure, but a heart of rain;
Their hollow moments undelighted
Sure peace is his; a folid life estrang

?

YOUNG

To difappointment, and fallacious hope
Rich in content, in nature's bounty rich,

In herbs and fruits; whatever greens the fpring,
When heaven descends in showers; or bends the bough
When fummer reddens, and when autumn beams;
Or in the wintry glebe whatever lies

Conceal'd and fattens with the richest fap;
These are not wanting; nor the milky drove,
Luxuriant, fpread o'er all the lowing vale;
Nor bleating mountains; nor the chide of streams
And hum of bees, inviting fleep fincere
Into the guiltless breaft, beneath the fhade,
Or, thrown at large amid the fragrant hay;
Nor aught befides of profpect, grove, or fong,
Dim grottos, gleaming lakes, and fountain clear.
Here too dwells fimple truth; plain innocence;
Unfullied beauty; found unbroken youth,
Patient of labour, with a little pleas'd;
Health ever blooming; unambitious toil ;
Calm contemplation, and poetic ease.

SECTION IX.

THOMSON.

THE PLEASURE AND BENEFIT OF AN IMPROVED AND WELL DIRECTED

IMAGINATION.

OH! bleft of Heaven, who not the languid fongs

Of luxury, the firen! not the bribes

Of fordid wealth, nor all the gaudy spoils

Of pageant Honour, can feduce to leave

Thofe ever blooming fweets, which, from the store
Of nature, fair imagination culls,

To charm th' enliven'd foul! What tho' not all
Of mortal offspring can attain the height
Of envy'd life: tho' only few poffefs
Patrician treasures, or imperial state;
Yet nature's care, to all her children juft,
With richer treasures, and an ampler state,
Endows at large whatever happy man
Will deign to use them. His the city's pomp,
The rural honours his. Whate'er adorns
The princely dome, the column and the arch,
The breathing marble and the sculptur'd gold,
Beyond the proud poffeffor's narrow claim,

His tuneful breaft enjoys. For him, the spring
Diftils her dews, and from the filken gem
Its lucid leaves unfolds: for him, the hand
Of autumn tinges every fertile branch
With blooming gold, and blufhes like the morn.
Each paffing hour sheds tribute from her wings;
And ftill new beauties meet his lonely walk,
And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze
Flies o'er the meadow; not a cloud imbibes
The fetting fun's effulgence; not a strain
From all the tenants of the warbling shade
Afcends; but whence his bofom can partake
Fresh pleasure, unreprov'd. Nor thence partakes
Fresh pleasure only; for th' attentive mind,
By this harmonious action on her powers,
Becomes herself harmonious: wont fo oft
In outward things to meditate the charm
Of facred order, foon fhe feeks at home,
To find a kindred order; to exert
Within herself this elegance of love,
This fair infpir'd delight: her temper'd pow'rs
Refine at length, and ev'ry paffion wears
A chafter, milder, more attractive mein.
But if to ampler profpects, if to gaze
On nature's form, where, negligent of all
Thefe leffer graces, fhe affumes the port
Of that eternal Majefty that weigh'd

The world's foundations, if to these the mind
Exalts her daring eye; then mightier far

Will be the change, and nobler. Would the forms
Of fervile custom cramp her gen'rous pow'rs?
Would fordid policies, the barb'rous growth
Of ignorance and rapine, bow her down
To tame purfuits, to indolence and fear?
Lo! fhe appeals to nature, to the winds
And rolling waves, the fun's unwearied courfe,
The elements and feafons: all declare
For what th' eternal MAKER has ordain'd
The pow'rs of man: we feel within ourfelves

His energy divine he tells the heart,

:

He meant, he made us to behold and love
What he beholds and loves, the general orb

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