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And in the place of heaven's eternal King
Set up the phantom Chance. For them in vain
Alternate feafons cheer'd the rolling year;
In vain the fun o'er herb, tree, fruit and flow'r
Shed genial influence mild; and the pale moon
Repair'd her waning orb.-Next thefe is plac'd
The vile blafphemer; he whofe impious wit
Profan'd the facred myfteries of faith,
And 'gainst th' impenetrable walls of heav'n
Planted his feeble battery. By thefe ftands
The Arch-Apoftate: he with many a wile
Exhorts them ftill to foul revolt. Alas!
No hope have they from black despair, no ray
Shines through the gloom to cheer their finking


Conduct my steps, fafe from the fiery gulph
And dark abyfs, where Sin and Satan reign!
But can the Mufe, her numbers all too weak,
Tell how that reftlefs element of fire
Shall wage with feas and earth inteftine war,
And deluge all creation? Whether (fo
Some think) the comet, as through fields of air
Lawlefs he wanders, fhall ruth headlong on
Thwartingth' ecliptic, where th'unconfcious earth
Rolls in her wonted courfe; whether the fun
With force centripetal into his orb


Attract her, long reluctant; or the caves, Thofe dread volcanos, where engend'ring lie Sulphureous minerals, from their dark abyfs Pour ftreams of liquid fire; while from above, In agonies of grief they curfe the hour As erft on Sodom, Heaven's avenging hand When first they left Religion's onward way. Rains fierce combuftion.-Where are now the Thefe on the left are rang'd: but on the right Of art, the toil of ages-Where are now [works A chofen band appears, who fought beneath Th' imperial cities, fepulchres, and domes, The banner of Jehovah, and defied Trophies and pillars Where is Egypt's boaft, Satan's united legions. Some, unmov'd Thofe lofty pyramids, which high in air At the grim tyrant's frown, o'er barb'rous climes Rear'd their afpiring heads, to diâant times Diffes'd the Gofpel's light: fome long immur'd Of Memphian pride a lafting monument ?(Sad fervitude!) in chains and dungeons pin'd; Tell me where Athens rais'd her tow'rs? where Or, rack'd with all the agonies of pain, [they Breath'd out their faithful lives. Thrice happy Whom Heav'n elected to that glorious ftrife! Here are they plac'd, whofe kind munificence Made heaven-born Science raife her drooping And on the labours of a future race [head; Entail'd their just reward. Thou amongst thefe, Good Seaton whofe well-judg'd benevolence Foft'ring fair Genius, bade the poet's hand Bing annual off 'rings to his Maker's fhrine, Shalt find the generous care was not in vain.Here is that fav'rite band, whom mercy mild, God's beft-lov'd attribute, adorn'd; whofe gate Stood ever open to the ftranger's call; Who fed the hungry; to the thirsty lip Reach'd out the friendly cup; whofe care benign From the rude blaft fecur'd the pilgrim's fide; Who heard the widow's tender tale, and fhook The galling fhackle from the pris'ner's feet; Who each endearing tie, each office knew Of meek-eyed, heaven-defcended Charity. O Charity, thou nymph divinely fair! Sweeter than thofe whom ancient poets bound In amity's indiffoluble chain,

The Graces! how fhall I effay to paint
Thy charms, celeftial maid! and in rude verfe
Blazon thofe deeds thyfelf didit ne'er reveal?
For thee nor rankling Envy can infect,
Nor Rage tranfport, nor high o'erweening Pride
Puff up with vain conceit: ne'er didst thou fmile
To fee the finner as a verdant tree
Spread his luxuriant branches o'er the stream;
While, like fome blafted trunk, the righteous fall
Proftrate, forlorn. When prophecies fhall fail,
tongues fhall ceafe, when knowledge is no


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Open'd her hundred portals-Tell me where
Stood fea-girt Albion? where imperial Rome,
Propt by feven hills, fat like a fceptred queen,
And aw'd the tributary world to peace-
Shew me the rampart which o'er many a hill,
Through many a valley, ftretch'd its wide extent,
Rais'd by that mighty monarch to repel
The roving Tartar, when with infult rude
'Gainft Pekin's tow'rs he bent th' unerring bow.
But what is mimic art? E'en Nature's works,
Seas, ineadows, paftures, the meand'ring ftreams,
And everlafting hills, fhall be no more.
No more fhall Teneriff, cloud-piercing height
O'erhang th' Atlantic furge; nor that fam'd cliff,
Thro' which the Perfian teer'd with many a fail,
Throw to the Lemnian ifle its evening fhade
O'er half the wide gean.-Where are now
The Alps that confin'd with unnumber'd realms,
And from the Black Sea to the occan ftream
Stretch'd their extended arms?-Where's Ararat,
That hill on which the faithful patriarch's ark,
Which feven long months had voyag'd o'er its top,
First rested, when the carth with all her fons,
As now by ftreaming cataracts of fire,

Was whelim'd by mighty waters -All at once
Are vanish'd and diffolv'd; no trace remains,
No mark of vain diftinction: heaven itfelf,
That azure vault, with all thofe radiant orbs,
Sinks in the univerfal ruin lost.

No more fhall planets round their central fun
Move in harmonious dance; no more the moon
Hang out her filver lamp; and thofe fix'd stars,
Spangling the golden canopy of night,
Which oft the Tufcan with his optic glafs
Call'd from their wondrous height, to read their
And magnitude, fome winged minifter [names
Shall quench; and (fureft fign that all on earth
Is loft) fhall rend from heaven the mystic bow.
Such is that awful, that tremendous day,

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EHOVAH reigns: let ev'ry nation hear, And at his footstool bow with hely fear, Let heaven's high arches echo with his name, And the wide peopled carth his praife proclaim; Then fend it down to hell's deep glooms refounding, fing. Thro' all her caves in dreadful murmurs found

He rules with wide and abfolute command
O'er the broad ocean and the ftedfaft land:
Jehovah reigns, unbounded and alone,
And all creation hangs beneath his throne:
He reigns alone; let no inferior nature
Ufurp or fhare the throne of the Creator.

He faw the ftruggling beams of infant light
Shoot thro' the maffy gloom of ancient night;
His fpirit hufh'd the elemental strife,

And brooded o'er the kindling feeds of life: Seafons and months began the long proceffion, And meafur'd o'er the year in bright fucceffion. The joyful fun fprung up th' ethereal way, Strong as a giant, as a bridegroom gay; And the pale moon diffus'd her thadowy light Superior o'er the dufky brow of night; Ten thoufand glittering lamps the fkies adorning Numerous as dew-drops from the womb of morning.

Earth's blooming face with rifing flow'rs he


And fpread a verdant mantle o'er her breaft; Then from the hollow of his hand he pours The circling waters round her winding thores, The new-born world in their cool arms cmbracing,.

And with foft murmurs ftill her banks careffing.

At length the rofe complete in finifh'd pride, All fair and fpotlefs, like a virgin bride: Fresh with untarnish'd luftre as the food, Her Maker blefs'd his work, and call'd it good, The morning ftars, with joyful acclamation, Exulting fung, and hail'd the new creation.

Yet this fair world, the creature of a day, Tho' built by God's right hand, muft pafs away; And long oblivion creep o'er mortal things, The fate of empires, and the pride of kings: Eternal night fhall veil their proudest story, And drop the curtain o'er all human glory. The fun himself, with weary clouds oppreft, Shall in his filent, dark pavilion reft;

His golden urn fhall broke and ufelefs lie, Amidst the common ruins of the sky! The ftars ruth headlong in the wild commotion, And bathe their glitt'ring foreheads in the ocean.

But fix'd, O God! for ever ftands thy throne; Jehovah reigns, a universe alone;

Th' eternal fire that feeds each vital flame, Collected or diffus'd, is ftill the fame. He dwells within his own unfathom'd effence, And fills all space with his unbounded prefence. But oh! our highest notes the theme debase, And filence is our leaft injurious praife: [troul, Ceafe, cease your fongs, the daring flight conRevere him in the ftillness of the foul; With filent duty meekly bend before him, And deep within your inmoft hearts adore him.


PRAISE to God, immortal praise *,
For the love that crowns our days;
Bountcous fource of ev'ry joy,
Let thy praife our tongues employ;
For the bleffings of the field,
For the ftores the gardens yield,
For the vine's exalted juice,
For the gen'rous olive's use;
Flocks that whiten all the plain,
Yellow fheaves of ripen'd grain,
Clouds that drop their fatt ning dews,
Suns that temp'rate warmth diffufe;
All that Spring with bounteous hand
Scatters o'er the fmiling land;
All that lib'ral Autumn pours
From her rich o'erflowing ftores:
Thefe to thee, my God, we owe,
Source whence all our bleflings flow;
And for thele my foul fhall raife
Grateful vows and folemn praise.
Yet, fhould rifing whirlwinds tear
From its ftem the rip'ning car ;
Should the fig-tree's blufted fhoot
Drop her green untimely fruit;

Although the fig-tree fhall not bloffom, neither fhall fruit be in the vines, the labour of the olive fhall fail, and the fields fhall yield no meat, the flocks fhall be cut off from the fold, and there fhall be no herd in the italls: yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my falvation.

HABAKKUK, iii. 17, 18.


Should the vine put forth no more, Nor the olive yield her ftore; Thoughthe fick'ning flocks should fall, And the herds defert the ftall; Should thine alter'd hand restrain The early and the latter rain; Blaft each op'ning bud of joy, And the rifing year destroy; Yet to thee my foul should raise Grateful vows, and folemn praise; And, when ev'ry blefling 's flown, Love thee-for thyself alone.


For Eafter-Sunday.

AGAIN the Lord of life and light
Awakes the kindling ray;
Unfeals the eyelids of the morn,
And pours increafing day.
Owhat a night was that which wrapt
The heathen world in gloom!
O what a fun which broke this day,
Triumphant from the tomb!
This day be grateful homage paid,
And loud hofannas fung;
Let gladnefs dwell in ev'ry heart,
And praise on ev'ry tongue.
Ten thoufand diff'ring lips fhall join
To hail this welcome morn,
Which scatters bleffings from its wings
To nations yet unborn.

Jefus, the friend of human kind,
With ftrong compaffion mov'd,
Defcended, like a pitying God,
To fave the fouls he lov'd.
The pow'rs of darkness leagu'd in vain
To bind his foul in death;
He thook their kingdom, when he fell,
With his expiring breath.

Not long the toils of hell could keep
The hope of Judah's line;
Corruption never could take hold
On aught fo much divine.

And now his conqu❜ring chariot wheels
Afcend the lofty skies;

While broke, beneath his pow'rful cross,
Death's iron fceptre lies.

Exalted high at God's right hand,
And Lord of all below,

Thro' him is pard'ning love difpens'd,
And boundless bleffings flow.
And ftill for erring, guilty man
A brother's pity flows;

And ftill his bleeding heart is touch'd
With mem'ry of our woes.

To thee, my Saviour and my King,
Glad homage let me give;
And ftand prepar'd like thee to die,
With thee that I may live.

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AWAKE, my foul! lift up thine eyes,
See where thy foes against thee rife,
In long array, a num'rous hoft;
Awake, my foul, or thou art loft.
Here giant Danger threat'ning ftands
Muft'ring his pale terrific bands;
There Pleafure's filken banners spread,
And willing fouls are captive led.
See where rebellious paffions rage,
And fierce defires and lufts engage;
The meaneft foe of all the train
Has thoufands and ten thousands flain.
Thou tread'ft upon enchanted ground,
Perils and fnares befet thee round;
Beware of all, guard ev'ry part,
But moft the traitor in thy heart.

Come then, my foul, now learn to wield
The weight of thine immortal shield;
Put on the armour from above
Of heav'nly truth and heav'nly love.
The terror and the charm repel,
And pow'rs of earth, and pow'rs of hell
The man of Calvary triumph'd here;
Why should his faithful followers fear?

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I feel that name my inmoft thoughts controul,
And breathe an awful ftillaefs thro' my foul;
As by a charm, the waves of grief subside;
Impetuous paffion flops her headlong tide:
At thy felt prefence all emotions ceale,
And my huth'd ipirit finds a fudden peace,
Till ev'ry worldly thought within me dies,
And carth's gay pageants vanish from my eyes;
Till all my fenfe is loft in infinite,
And one vaft object fills my aching fight.

But foon, alas! this holy calin is broke;
My foul fubmits to wear her wonted yoke;
With hackled pinions ftrives to foar in vain,
And mingles with the drofs of earth again.
But he, our gracious Mafter, kind as juft,
Knowing our frame, remembers man is duft.
His fpirit, ever brooding o'er our mind,
Sees the first wish to better hopes inclin'd;
Marks the young dawn of ev'ry virtuous aim,
And fans the fmoking flax into a flame.
His ears are open to the fofteft cry,
His grace defcends to meet the lifted eye;
He reads the language of a filent tear,
And fighs are incenfe from a heart fincere.
Such are the vows, the facrifice I give;
Accept the vow, and bid the fuppliant live:
From each terreftrial bondage fet me free;
Still ev'ry with that centres not in thee;
Bid my fond hopes, my vain difquiets ccafe,
And point my path to everlafting peace.

If the foft hand of winning pleafure leads By living waters, and thro' flow'ry meads, When all is fmiling, tranquil, and ferene, And vernal beauty paints the flatt'ring feene, Oh! teach me to elude each latent fnare, And whisper to my fliding heart-Beware! With caution let me hear the Svren's voice, And doubtful, with a trembling heart, rejoice If friendless in a vale of tears I ftrav, Where briers wound, and thorns perplex my way, Still let my feady foul thy goodness fee, And with ftrong confidence lay hold on thee; With equal eve my various lot receive, Refign'd to die, or refolute to live; Prepard to kiss the fceptre or the rod, While God is feen in ail, and all in God.

I read his awful name emblazon'd high With golden letters on th' illumin'd sky;

Nor lefs the myftic characters I fee
Wrought in each flow'r, inscrib'd on ev'ry tree :
In ev'ry leaf that trembles to the breeze
I hear the voice of God among the trees;
With thee in fhady folitudes I walk,
With thee in bufy crowded cities talk;
In ev'ry creature own thy forming pow'r,
In each event thy providence adore.
Thy hopes fhall animate my drooping foul,
Thy precepts guide me, and thy fear control,
Thus fhall I rett unmov'd by all alarms,
Secure within the temple of thine arms,
From anxious cares, from gloomy terrors free,
And feel myfelf omnipotent in thee.
And earth recedes before my fwimming eve;
Then when the laft, the clofing hour draws nigh,
When trembling on the doubtful edge of fate
I ftand, and stretch my view to either state;
Teach me to quit this tranfitory scene
With decent triumph and a look ferene;
Teach me to fix my ardent hopes on high,
And, having liv'd to thee, in thee to die.

§ 54. A Summer Evening's Meditation.

One fun by day, by night ten thousand shine. YOUNG.

TIS paft! the fultry tyrant of the fouth
Has fpent his fhort-liv'd rage: more grate-
ful hours

Move filent on the fkies no more repel
The dazzled fight; but, with mild maiden beams
Of temper'd light, invite the cherish'd eye
To wander o'er their fphere; where hung aloft
Dian's bright crefcent, like a filver bow
New ftrung in heaven, lifts high its beamy horns,
Impatient for the night, and feems to push
Her brother down the fky. Fair Venus fhines
Ev'n in the eye of day; with sweetest beam
Propitious thines, and thakes a trembling flood
Of often'd radiance from her dewy locks.
The fhadows fpread apace; while meeken'd Eve,
Her check yet warm with blushes, flow retires
Thro' the Hefperian gardens of the weft,
And fhuts the gates of day. 'Tis now the hour
When Contemplation, from her funlefs haunts,
The cool damp grotto, or the lonely depth
Of unpierc'd woods, where wrapt in filent shade
She mus'd away the gaudy hours of noon,
And fed on thoughts unripen'd by the fun,
Moves forward; and with radiant finger points
blue concave fwell'd by breath divine,
Where, one by one, the living eyes of heaven
Awake, quick kindling o'er the face of æther
One boundlefs blaze; ten thoufand trembling


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Of milky light, what foft o'erflowing urn, Are all thefe lamps fo fill'd thefe friendly lamps, For ever ftreaming o'er the azure deep To point our path, and light us to our home. How foft they flide along their lucid fpheres! And, filent as the foot of Time, fulfil Their deftin'd courfes: Nature's felf is hufh'd, And, but a fcatter'd leaf, which ruftles thro' The thick-wove foliage, not a found is heard To break the midnight air; tho' the rais'd car, Intenfely lift ning, drinks in ev'ry breath. How deep the filence, yet how loud the praife! But are they filent all? or is there not A tongue in ev'ry ftar that talks with man, And wooes him to be wife? nor wooes in vain: This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, And wifdom mounts her zenith with the stars. At this still hour the felf-collected foul Turns inward, and beholds a stranger there Of high defcent, and more than mortal rank; An embryo God; a fpark of fire divine, Which must burn on for ages, when the fun (Fair tranfitory creature of a day!) Has clos'd his golden eye, and, wrapt in fhades, Forgets his wonted journey thro' the caft.


Ye citadels of light, and feats of Gods! Perhaps my future home, from whence the foul, Revolving periods paft, may oft look back, With recollected tenderness, on all The various bufy scenes the left below, Its deep-laid projects and its strange events, As on fome fond and doting tale that footh'd Her infant hours-O be it lawful now To tread the hallow'd circle of your courts, And with mute wonder and delighted awe Approach your burning confines!——-Seiz'd On fancy's wild and roving wing I fail [thought, From the green borders of the peopled earth, And the pale moon, her duteous fair attendant; From folitary Mars; from the vast orb Of Jupiter, whofe huge gigantic bulk Dances in ether like the lighteft leaf; To the dim verge, the fuburbs of the fyftem, Where cheerless Saturn, 'midft his wat'ry moons, Girt with a lucid zone, in gloomy pomp, Sits like an exil'd monarch: fearlets thence I launch into the tracklefs deeps of space, Where, burning round, ten thousand funs appear, Of elder beam; which afk no leave to thine Of our terrestrial star, nor borrow light From the proud regent of our fcanty day; Sons of the morning, firft-born of creation, And only lefs than him who marks their track, And guides their fiery wheels. Here mult I ftop, Or is there aught beyond? What hand unfeen Impels me onward thro' the glowing orbs Of habitable nature, far remote, To the dread confines of eternal night, To folitudes of vaft unpeopled face, The deferts of creation, wide and wild, Where embryo fyftems and unkindled funs Sleep in the womb of chaos? Fancy droops, And thought aftonish'd stops her bold carcer. But, oh thou mighty Mind whofe pow'rful word

Said, Thus let all things be, and thus they were,
Where thall I feek thy prefence? how unblam'd
Invoke thy dread perfection -

Have the broad eye-lids of the morn beheld thee?
Or does the beamy fhoulder of Orion
Support thy throne? O look with pity down
On ering, guilty man! not in thy names
Of terror clad; not with thofe thunders arm'd
That confcious Sinai felt, when fear appall'd
The scatter'd tribes! Thou haft a gentler voice,
That whispers comfort to the fivelling heart,
Abafh'd, yet longing to behold her Maker.

But now my foul, unus'd to ftretch her pow'rs
In flight fo daring, drops her weary wing,
And fecks again the known accuftom'd spot,
Dreft up with fun, and fhade, and lawns, and
A manfion fair and Spacious for its gueft, [ftreams;
And full replete with wonders. Let me here,
Content and grateful, wait the appointed time,
And ripen for the skies: the hour will come
When all thefe fplendours bursting on my fight
Shall ftand unveil'd, and to my ravish'd fenfe
Unlock the glories of the world unknown.

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THOU, the Nymph with placid cyc!
O feldom found, yet ever nigh!
Receive my temp'rato vow:
Not all the ftorms that ihake the pole
Can e'er difturb thy halcyon foul,

And fimooth unalter'd brow.
O come, in fimple veft array'd,
With all thy fober cheer difplay'd,
To blefs my longing fight;
Thy mien compos'd, thy even pace,
Thy meck regard, thy mation grace,
And chafte fubdued delight.
No more by varying paffions beat,
O gently guide my pilgrim feet

To find thy hermit cell;
Where in fome pure and equal fky
Beneath thy foft indulgent eye

The modeft virtues dwell. Simplicity in Attic veft,

And Innocence with candid breast,

And clear undaunted eye; And Hope, who points to diftant years, Fair op'ning thro' this vale of tears

A vifta to the fky.

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