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And thousands that each hour thou gobbleft up,
This, less than this, might gorge thee to the full.
But ah! rapacious ftill, thou gap 'ft for more:
Like one, whole days defrauded of his meals,
On whom lank hunger lays his skinny hand,
And whets to keeneft eagerness his cravings
(As if Difeafes, Maffacres, and Poifon,
Famine and War, were not thy caterers)!
But know that thou must render up thy dead,
And with high intereft too! they are not thine;
But only in thy keeping for a feafon,
Till the great promis'd day of reftitution;
When loud diffufive found from brazen trump
Of ftrong-lung'd cherub fhall alarm thy captives,
And roufe the long, long fleepers into life,
Day-light, and liberty.-

Our bane turn'd to a bleffing! Death difarm'd
Lofes his fellness 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 fo foft.
Behold him in the ev'ning-tide of life,
A life well-fpent, whofe early care it was,
His riper years fhould not upbraid his green :
By unperceiv'd degrees he wears away;
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 firft fair fruits
Of the faft-coming harveft! Then! O then!
Each earth-born joy grows vile, or disappears,
Shrunk to a thing of nought. O how he longs
To have his paffport fign'd, and be difmifs'd!
'Tis done, and now he's happy! The glad foul
Has not a with uncrown'd. Ev'n the lag flefh
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 fingle fpor of burial-carth,
Whether on land, or in the fpacious fea,
But muft give back its long-committed duft
Inviolate and faithfully thall these
Make up the full account; not the leaft atom
Embezzled, or mislaid, of the whole tale.
Each foul fhall have a body ready-furnish'd;
And each fhall have his own. Hence,ye prophane!
Afk not, how this can be? Sure the fame pow'r

Then muft thy gates fly open, and reveal
The mines that lay long forming under ground,
In their dark cells immur'd; but now full ripe,
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 pow'r
Thou couldst not hold: felf-vigorous he rofe,
And, fhaking off thy fetters, foon retook
Thofe fpoils his voluntary yielding lent.
(Sure pledge of our releafement from thy thrall !)
Twice twenty days he fojourn'd here on earth,
And fhew'd himself alive to chofen witnesses
By proofs fo ftrong, that the moft flow affenting
Had not a fcruple left. This having done,
He mounted up to heav'n. Methinks I fee him
Climb the aërial heights, and glide along
Athwart the fevering clouds: but the faint eye,That rear'd the piece at firft, and took it down,
Flung backward in the chace, foon drops its hold, Can re-affemble the loofe fcatter'd parts,
Difabled quite, and jaded with purfuing. And put them as they were. Almighty God
Heaven's portals wide expand to let him in; Has done much more; nor is his arm impair'd
Nor are his friends fhut out: as fome great prince Thro' length of days; and what he can he will:
Not for himself alone procures admiflion,
His faithfulnefs ftands bound to fee it done.
But for his train; it was his royal will,
When the dread trumpet founds, the flumb'ring
That where he is, there should his followers be. Not unattentive to the call, fhall wake; (duft,
Death only lies between! a gloomy path! And ev'ry joint poffefs its proper place,
Made yet more gloomy by our coward fears! With a new elegance of form, unknown
But not untrod, nor tedious: the fatigue
To its firft ftate. Nor fhall the confcious foul
Will foon go off. Befides, there's no by-road Miftake its partner; but amidst the crowd,
To blifs. Then why, like ill-condition'd children, Singling its other half, into its arms
Start we at tranfient hardfhips in the way Shall rufh, with all the impatience of a man
That leads to purer air and fofter skies,
That's new come home, who having long been
And a ne'er-fetting fun? Fools that we are!
We wish to be where fweets unwith'ring bloom;
But ftrait our with revoke, and will not go.
So have I feen, upon a fummer's even,
Faft by a riv'let's brink a youngfter play!
How withfully he looks to ften the tide!
This moment refolute, next unrefolv'd,
At laft 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
That, after many a painful bleeding step, [Death!
Conducts us to our home, and lands us fafe
On the long with'd-for thore. Prodigious change!

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 inoonless night; We make the grave our bed, and then are gone. Thus, at the fhut of even the weary bird Leaves the wide air, and in fome lonely break Cow'rs down, and dofes till the dawn of day; Then claps his well-fledg'd wings, and bears


$40. Happiness to be found in Virtue alone.


KNOW then this truth (enough for man to "Virtue alone is Happinefs below." [know,

48. On the Eternity of the Supreme Being



The only point where human blifs ftands ftill,
And taftes the good without the fall to ill;
Where only Merit conftant pay receives,
Is bleft in what it takes, and what it gives;
The joy unequall'd if its end it gain,
And, if it lofe, attended with no pain:
Without fatiety, tho' e'r fo blefs'd,
And but more relifh'd as the more distress'd:
The broadeft mirth unfeeling Folly wears,
Lefs pleafing far than Virtue's very tears:
Good from each object, from each place ac-Incomprehenfible!-O what can words,
The weak interpreters of mortal thoughts,
Or what can thoughts (tho'wild of wing they rove
Thro' the vaft concave of th' ææthereal round) ?
If to the Heav'n of Heav'ns they wing their way
Advent rous, like the birds of night they 're lost,
And delug'd in the flood of dazzling day.

HAIL, wondrous Being, who in pow'r fu
Exists from everlasting! whofe great name
Deep in the human heart, and ev'ry atom
The Air, the Earth, or azure Main contains,
In undecypher'd characters is wrote-


For ever exercis'd, yet never tir'd;
Never clated while one man's opprefs'd;
Never dejected while another's blefs'd;
And where no wants, no wishes can remain,
Since but to with more Virtue, is to gain.

See! the fole blifs Heav'n could on all beftow, Which who but feels can tafte; but thinks, can know:

May then the youthful, uninfpired Bard
Prefume to hymn th' Eternal? may he foar
Where Seraph and where Cherubin on high
Refound th' unceafing plaudits, and with them
In the grand chorus mix his feeble voice?

Yet poor with fortune, and with learning blind,
The bad muft mifs; the good, untaught, will find;
Slave to no fect, who takes no private road,
But looks thro' Nature up to Nature's God;
Purfues that chain which links th' immenfe

He may-if thou, who from the witlefs babe
Ordaineft honour, glory, ftrength, and praise,
Uplift th' unpinion'd Mufe, and deign'ft to affift,
Great Poet of the Univerfe! his fong.

Joins heav'n and earth, and mortal and divine;
Sees, that no being any blifs can know,
But touches fome above, and fome below;
Learns from this union of the rifing whole,
The firft, laft purpose of the human foul;
And knows where Faith, Law, Morals, all began,
All end in Love of God, and Love of Man.

For him alone, Hope leads from goal to goal,
And opens ftill, and opens on his foul;
Till lengthen'd on to Faith, and unconfin'd,
It pours the blifs that fills up all the mind.
He fees why Nature plants in Man alone
Hope of known blifs, and faith in blifs unknown
(Nature, whofe dictates to no other kind
Are giv'n in vain, but what they feek they
Wife is her prefent; the connects in this
His greatest Virtue with his greatest Blifs;
At once his own bright prospect to be bleft,
And ftrongest motive to aflift the reft.

Before this earthly Planet wound her courfe
Round Light's perennial fountain; before Light
Herfelf gan thine, and at th' infpiring word
Shot to exiftence in a blaze of day;
Before "the Morning-Stars together fang,"
And hail'd Thee architect of countlef's worlds;
Thou art-All-glorious, All-beneficent,
All Wifdom and Omnipotence thou art.
But is the æra of Creation fix'd

At when thefe worlds began? Could aught retard
Goodness, that knows no bounds, from bleffing
Or keep th' immente Artificer in floth? [every
Avaunt the duft-directed crawling thought,
find).That Puiffance immeafurably vaft,
And Bounty inconceivable, could rest
Content, exhaufted with one week of action f
No-in th' exertion of thy righteous pow'r,
Ten thoufand times more active than the Sun,
Thou reign'd, and with a mighty hand compos
Systems innumerable, matchless all,
All ftampt with thine uncounterfeited feal.

But yet (if ftill to more ftupendous heights
The Mufe unblam'd her aching sense may train)
Perhaps wrapt up in contemplation deep,
The Best of Beings on the nobleft theme
Might ruminate at leifure, fcope immenfe !
Th' Eternal Pow'r and Godhead to explore,
And with itfelf th' Omnifcient Mind replete
This were enough to fill the boundless All.
This were a Sabbath worthy the Supreme!
Perhaps enthron'd amidft a choicer few
Of fpirits inferior, he might greatly plan
The two prime Pillars of the Universe,
Creation and Redemption-and awhile
Paufe-with the grand prefentiments of glory.
Perhaps but all 's conjecture here below,
All ignorance, and felf-plum'd vanity-
O Thou, whofe ways to wonder at 's distruft,


Self-love thus push'd to social, to divine,
Gives thee to make thy neighbour's bleffing
Is this too little for the boundless heart? [thine.
Extend it, let thy enemies have part:
Grafp the whole worlds of Reafon, Life, and
In one clofe fyftem of Benevolence: [Senfe,
Happier as kinder, in whate'er degree,
And height of Blifs but height of Charity.
God loves from Whole to Parts: but human
Muft rifs from Individual to the Whole. [foul
Self-love but ferves the virtuous mind to wake,
As the fmall pebble ftirs the peaceful lake;
The centre mov'd, a circle ftraight fucceeds,
Another fill, and still another spreads;
Friend, parent, neighbour, firft it will embrace;
His country next; and next all human race:
Wide and more wide, th' o'erflowings of the mind
Take ev'ry creature in, of ev'ry kind;
Earth (miles around, with boundless bounty bleft,
And Heav'n beholds its image in his breast.

Whom to defcribe 's prefumption (all we can,
And all we may), be glorified, be prais'd. [rifh,
A day fhall come, when all this Earth fhall pe-
Nor leave behind ev'n Chaos; it shall come,
When all the armies of the elements
Shall war against themfelves, and mutual rage,
To make Perdition triumph; it fhall come,
When the capacious atmosphere above
Shall in fulphureous thunders groan, and die,
And vanih into void; the earth beneath
Shall fever to the centre, and devour

Th' enormous blaze of the destructive flames.
Ye rocks that mock the raving of the floods,
Ard proudly frown upon th' impatient deep,
Where is your grandeur now? Ye foaming waves,
That all along th' immenfe Atlantic roar,
In vain ye fwell; will a few drops fuffice
To quench the inextinguifhable fire?
Ye mountains, on whole cloud-crown'd tops the
Are leffea'd into fhrubs, magnific piles,
That prop the painted chambers of the heavens,
And fix the earth continual; Athos, where?
Where, Tenerif, 's thy ftateliness to-day?
What, Etna, are thy flames to these? No more
Than the poor glow-worm to the golden fun.


Nor fhall the verdant valleys then remain Safe in their theck fubmiffion; they the debt Of nature and of justice too muft pay. Yet I muft weep for you, ye rival fair, Arno and Andalufia; but for thee More largely, and with filial tears muft weep, O Albion! O my country! Thou must join, In vain diffever'd from the reft, muft join The terrors of th' inevitable ruin.

Nor thou, illuftrious monarch of the day; Nor thou, fair queen of night; nor you, ye stars, Tho' million leagues and million ftill remote, Shall yet furvive that day; ye must submit, Sharers, not bright fpectators of the scene.

But tho' the Earth fhall to the centre perish, Nor leave behind ev'n Chaos; tho' the air With all the elements muft pafs away, Vain as an idiot's dream; tho' the huge rocks, That brandish the tall cedars on their tops, With humbler vales must to perdition yield; Tho' the gilt Sun, and filver-treffed Moon, With all her bright retinue, must be lost . Yet Thou, Great Father of the world, furviv'ft Eternal, as thou wert: Yet ftill furvives The foul of man immortal, perfect now, And candidate for unexpiring joys.

He comes! he comes! the awful trump I hear; The flaming fword's intolerable blaze 1 fee! He comes! th' Archangel from above. "Arife, ye tenants of the filent grave, Awake incorruptible, and arife: "From east to west, from the Antarctic pole "To regions Hyperborean, all ye fons, "Ye fons of Adam, and ye heirs of heaven"Arife, ye tenants of the filent grave, "Awake incorruptible, and arife."

'Tis then, nor fooner, that the reftlefs mind Shall find itself at home; and like the ark, Fix'd on the mountain top, fhall look aloft

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O'er the vague paffage of precarious life;
And winds and waves, and rocks and temperts,
Enjoy the everlafting calm of Heaven: [paft,
'Tis then, nor fooner, that the deathlefs foul
Shall juftly know its nature and its rife :
'Tis then the human tongue, new-tun'd, fhall give
Praises more worthy the Eternal ear.

Yet what we can, we ought;-and therefore Thou,
Purge Thou my heart, Omnipotent and Good!
Purge Thou my heart with hyffop, left, like Cain,
I offer fruitless facrifice, and with gifts
Offend, and not propitiate the Ador'd.
Tho' Gratitude were bleft with all the powers
Her bursting heart could long for; tho' the fwift,
The fiery-wing'd Imagination foar'd
Beyond Ambition's with-yct all were vain
To fpcak him as he is, who is ineffable.
Yet ftill let Reafon thro' the eye of Faith
View him with fearful love; let Truth pronounce,
And Adoration on her bended knee,
With heaven-directed hands, confefs his reign,
And let the angelic, archangelic band,
With all the hofts of Heaven, cherubic forms,
And forms feraphic, with their filver trump
And golden lyres attend: For thou art holy,
"For Thou art one, th' Eternal, who alone
"Exerts all goodness, and tranfcends all praife!"

$42. On the Immenfity of the Supreme Being. SMART.

ONCE more I dare to roufe the founding ftring,
The Poet of my God-Awake, my glory,
Awake, my lute and harp-myfclf fhall wake,
Soon as the ftately night-exploding bird
In lively lay fings welcome to the dawn.

Lift ye! how Nature with ten thousand tongues
Begins the grand thanksgiving, Hail, all hail,
Ye tenants of the foreft and the field!
My fellow fubjects of th' Eternal King,
I gladly join your matins, and with you
Confefs his prefence, and report his praife.

O Thou, who or the lambkin, or the dove, When offer'd by the lowly, meek, and poor, Prefer'ft to pride's whole hecatomb, accept This mean Effay, nor from thy treasure-house Of glory immenfe the Orphan's mite exclude.

What tho' the Almighty's regal throne be rais'd High o'er yon azure Heaven's exalted dome, By mortal eye unkenn'd-where East nor Weft Nor South nor bluftering North has breath to Albeit He there with angels and with faints [blow; Holds conference, and to his radiant host Ev'n face to face ftands vifibly confeft; Yet know, that nor in prefence or in power Shines He lefs perfect here; 'tis man's dim ey That makes th' obfcurity. He is the fame; Alike in all his univerfe the fame.

Whether the mind along the spangled sky Mcafures her pathlefs walk, ftudious to view The works of vafter fabric, where the planets Weave their harmonious rounds, their march diStill faithful, ftill inconftant, to the fun; [recting Or where the comet, thro' fpace infinite (Tho' whirling worlds oppofe in globes of fire) Darts,


Darts, like a javelin, to his diftant goal; [vens, | Nathlefs confpicuous in the linnet's throat
Or where in Heaven above, the Heaven of Hea- Is his unbounded goodnefs-Thee her Maker,
Burn brighter funs, and goodlier planets roll Thee her Preferver chants fhe in her fong;
With fatellites more glorious-Thou art there. While all the emulative vocal tribe
Or whether on the ocean's boisterous back The grateful leffon learn-no other voice
Thou ride triumphant, and with outstretch'd arm Is heard, no other found-for, in attention
Curb the wild winds and difcipline the billows, Buried, ev'n babbling Echo holds her peace.
The fuppliant failor finds Thee there, his chief.
His only help-When Thou rebuk 'ft the ftorm,
It ccafes and the veffel gently glides
Along the gloffy level of the calm.

O could I fearch the bosom of the fea,
Down the great depth defcending, there thy works
Would allo speak thy refidence; and there
Would I, thy fervant, like the ftill profound,
Aftonifh'd into filence mufe thy praife!
Behold! behold! th' unplanted garden round
Of vegetable coral, fea-flowers gay,
And thrubs of amber from the pearl-pav'd bottom,
Rife richly varied, where the finny race
In blithe fecurity their gambols play:
While high above their heads Leviathan,
The terror and the glory of the main,
His paftime takes with tranfport, proud to see
The ocean's vaft dominion all his own.

Now from the plains, where the unbounded pro-
Gives liberty her utmoft fcope to range, [spect
Turn we to yon inclofures, where appears
Chequer'd variety in all her forms,
Which the vague mind attract, and still suspend
With fweet plerplexity. What are yon towers,
The work of labouring men and clumsy art,
Seen with the ringdove's neft? On that tall beeeh
Her penfile houfe the feather'd artist builds-
The rocking winds moleft her not; for fee
With fuch due poife the wondrous fabric's hung,
That, like the compafs in the bark, it keeps
True to itself, and fedfaft ev'n in forms.
Thou idiot, that afferts there is no God,
View, and be dumb for ever-
Go bid Vitruvius or Palladio build
The bee his manfion, or the ant her cave-
Go call Correggio, or let Titian come [cherry
To paint the hawthorn's bloom, or teach the
To blush with juft vermilion- Hence away-
Hence, ye profane! for God himself is here.
Vain were th' attempt, and impious, to trace
Thro' all his works th' Artificer Divine-
And tho' nor fhining fun, nor twinkling ftar
Bedeck'd the crimifon curtains of the fky;
Tho' neither vegetable, beaft, nor bird
Were extant on the furface of this bail,
Nor lurking gem beneath; tho' the great fea
Slept in profound ftagnation, and the air
Had left no thunder to pronounce its Maker;
Yet man at home, within himfelf, might find
The Deity immenfe, and in that frame,
So fearfully, to wonderfully made,

See and adore his providence and power

I fee, and I adore—O God most bounteous!
C infinite of goodnefs and of glory, [Ther;
The knee that thou haft fhap'd fhall bend to
The tongue which thou haft tun'd fhall chant
thy praife;

Hence thro' the genial bowels of the earth Eafy may fancy pafs; till at thy mines, Gani or Raolconda, the arrive,

And from the adamant's imperial blaze
Form weak ideas of her Maker's glery.
Next to Pegu or Ceylon let me rove,
Where the rich ruby (deem'd by fages old
Of fovereign virtue) fparkles ev'n like Sirius,
And blushes into flames. Thence will I go
To undermine the treasure-fertile womb
Of the huge Pyrenean, to detect
The agate and the deep-intrenched gem
Of kindred jafper-Nature in them both
Delights to play the mimic on herfelf;
And in their veins fhe oft pourtrays the forms
Of leaning hills, of trees erect, and streams
Now ftealing foftly on, now thundering down
In defperate cafcade, with flowers and beafts,
And all the living landfkip of the vale:
In vain thy pencil, Claudio or Pouflin,
Or thine, inmortal Guido, would effay
Such skill to imitate-it is the hand
Of God himself-for God himfelf is there.[vance
Hence with th' afcending springs let me ad-
Thro' beds of magnets, minerals, and fpar,
Up to the mountain's fummit, there t' indulge
Thambition of the comprehenfive eye,
That dares to call th' horizon all her own.
Behold the foreft, and th' expantive verdure
Of yonder level lawn, whofe fmooth-fhorn fod
No object interrupts, unless the oak
His lordly head uprcars, and branching arms
Extends-Behold in regal folitude,
And paftoral magnificence, he stands
So fimple, and fo great, the under-wood
Of meaner rank an awful diftance keep.
Yet thou art there, yet God himself is there,
Ev'n on the bush (tho' not as when to Mofes
He thone in burning majefty reveal'd).

And thine own image, the immortal foul,
Shall confecrate herfelf to Thee for over.

843. On the Omxifcience of the Supreme Being.


RISE, divine Urania, with new ftrains
To hymn thy God! and thou, immortal Fame,
Arife and blow thy everlasting trump!
All glory to the Omnifcient, and praife,
And power, and domination in the height
And thou, cherubic Gratitude, whofe voice
To pious cars founds filverly fo fweet,
Come with thy precious incenfe, bring thy gifts,
And with thy choiceft ftores the altar crown.
Thou too, my heart, whom He, and He launc
Who all things knows, can know, with love.
Regenerate, and pure, pour all thyfelf Tylen

A living facrifice before his throne!
And may th' eternal, high, mysterious tree,
That in the centre of the arched heavens [branch
Beats the rich fruit of knowledge, with fome
Stoop to my humble reach, and blefs my toil!
When in my mother's womb conceal'd ́I lay,
A fentelefs embryo, then my foul thou knew ft,
Knew't all her future workings, every thought,
And every faint idea yet unform'd.
When up the imperceptible afcent
Of growing years, led by thy hand, I rofe,
Perception's gradual light, that ever dawns
Infenfibly to day, thou didft vouchfafe,
And taught me by that reafon thou infpir'dft,
That what of knowledge in my mind was low,
Imperfect, incorrect-in Thee is wondrous,
Uncircumfcrib'd, unfearchably profound,
And eftimable folely by itfelf.

But who inform'd her of th' approaching danger?
Who taught the cautious mother, that the hawk
Was hatch'd her foe, and liv'd by her deftruction?
Her own prophetic foul is active in her,
And more than human providence her guard.

When Philomela, ere the cold domain
Of crippled Winter 'gins t' advance, prepares
Her annual flight, and in fome poplar fhade
Takes her melodious leave, who then 's her pilot?
Who points her paffage thro' the pathlefs void
To realms from us remote, to us unknown?
Her fcience is the fcience of her God.
Not the magnetic index to the North
E'er afcertains her courfe, nor buoy, nor beacon:
She, Heaven-taught voyager, that fails in air,
Courts nor coy Weft nor Eaft, but inftant knows
What Newton or not fouglit, or fought in vaint.

Illuftrious natne irrefragable proof
Of man's vaft genius, and the foaring foul!
Yet what wert thou to Him, who knew his works
Before creation form'd them, long before
He meatur'd in the hollow of his hand
Th' exulting ocean, and the highest heavens
He comprehended with a fpan, and weigh'd
The mighty mountains in his golden fcales;
Who thone fupreme, who was himself the light,
Ere yet Refraction learn'd her skill to paint,
And bend athwart the clouds her beauteous bow.

What is that fecret pow'r that guides the brutes,
Which Ignorance calls Inftinét › 'Tis from Thee:
It is the operation of thine hands,
Immediate, inftantaneous; 'tis thy wifdom
That glorious thines transparent thro' thy works.
Who taught the pye, or who forewarn'd the jay,
To thun the deadly nightfhade? Tho' the cherry
Boufts not a gloffier hue, nor does the plum
Lure with more feeming fweets the amorous eye,
Yet will not the fagacious birds, decoyed
By fair appearance, touch the noxious fruit.
They know to tafte is fatal; whence, alarm'd,
Swift on the winnowingwinds they work their way.
Go to, proud reafoner, philofophic man,
Haft thou fuch prudence, thou fuch knowledge?
Full many a race has fall'n into the fnare[—No. | O! how fublimely glorious to apply
Of meretricious looks, of pleafing furface;
And oft in defert ifles the famifh'd pilgrim,
By forms of fruit, and luscious taste, beguil'd,
Like his forefather Adam, cats and dies.
For why his wifdom on the leaden feet
Of low Experience, dully tedious, creeps,
And comes, like vengeance, after long delay.
The venerable fage, that nightly trims
The learned lamp, t' investigate the powers
Of plants medicinal, the earth, the air,
And the dark regions of the fofil world,
Grows old in following what he ne'er fhall find;
Studious in vain! till haply at the laft
He fpies a mift, then fhapes it into mountains,
And bafclefs fabrics from conjecture builds:
While the domeftic animal, that guards
At midnight hours his threshold, if opprefs'd
By fudden ficknefs, at his mafter's feet
Begs not that aid his fervices might claim,
But is his own phyfician, knows the cafe,
And from th' emetic herbage works his cure.
Hark! from afar the feather'd matron fcreams,
And all her brood alarms! The docile crew
Accept the fignal one and all, expert
In th' art of Nature and unlearn'd deceit :
Along the fod, in counterfeited death,
Mute, motionless they lie; full well appria'd
That the rapacious adversary's near.

• The Hea Turkey.

When Knowledge at her father's dread com-
Refign'd to Ifrael's king her golden key, [mand
O! to have join'd the frequent auditors
In wonder and delight, that whilom heard
Great Solomon defcanting on the brutes.

To God's own honour, and good-will to man,
That wifdom he alone of men poffefs'd
In plenitude fo rich, and fcope fo rare.
How did he roufe the pamper'd filken fons
Of bloated Eafe, by placing to their view
The fage induftrious Ant, the wifeft infect,
And beft economist of all the field!
Tho' the prefumes not by the folar orb
To measure times and feafons, nor confults
Chaldean calculations, for a guide;

Yet, confcious that December's on the march,
Pointing with icy hand to Want and Woe.
She waits his dire approach, and undifmay'd
Receives him as a welcome gucft, prepar'd
Against the churlish Winter's fierceft blow.
For when as yet the favourable Sun
Gives to the genial earth th' enlivening ray,
Not the poor fuffering flave, that hourly toils
To rive the groaning earth for ill-fought gold,
Endures fuch trouble, fuch fatigue, as the;
While all her fubterraneous avenues, [meet
And ftorm-proof cells, with management muft
And unexampled housewifery the forms:
Then to the field the hies, and on her back,
Burden immenfe! the bears the cumbrous corn.
Then many a weary step, and many a ftrain,
And many a grievous groan fubdued, at length
Up the huge hill fhe hardly heaves it home:

The Longitude.

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