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Not to return; or if it did, its vifits,
Like thofe of angels, fhort, and far between :
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 vaft body bleeds through ev'ry vein.
What havoc haft thou made, foul monfter, Sin!
Greatest and first of ills! the fruitful parent
Of woes of all dimenfions! but for thee
Sorrow had never been. All noxious things
Of vileft nature, other forts of evils,
Are kindly circumfcrib'd, and have their bounds.
The fierce volcano, from its burning entrails
That belches molten ftone and globes of fire,
Involv'd in pitchy clouds of fioke and stench,
Mars the adjacent fields for fome leagues round,
And there it stops. The big fwoln inundation,
Of mischief more diffufive, raving loud,
Buries whole tracts of country, threat'ning more;
But that too has its fhore it cannot pafs.
More dreadful far than thefe, fin has laid wafte,
Not here and there a country, but a world;
Dispatching at a wide extended blow
Entire mankind, and for their fakes defacing
A whole creation's beauty with rude hands;
Blafting the foodful grain, the loaded branches,
And marking all along its way with ruin.
Accurfed thing! O where fhall fancy find
A proper name to call thee by, expreffive
Of all thy horrors? pregnant womb of ills!
Of temper fo tranfcendently malign,
That toads and ferpents of most deadly kind
Compar'd to thee are harmless. Sickneffes
Of ev'ry fize and fymptom, racking pains,
And blueft plagues are thine! See how the fiend
Profufely scatters the contagion round! [heels,
Whilft deep-mouth'd flaughter, bellowing at her
Wades deep in blood new fpilt; yet for to-morrow
Shapes out new work of great uncommon daring,
And inly pines till the dread blow is struck.
But hold! I've gone too far; too much difcover'd
My father's nakedness, and nature's fhame.
Here let me paufe! and drop an honeft tear,
One burst of filial duty and condolence
O'er all those ample desarts Death hath spread,
This chaos of mankind. O great man-eater!
Whofe ev'ry day is carnival, not fated yet!
Unheard-of epicure, without a fellow !
The verieft gluttons do not always cram ;
Some intervals of abftinence are fought
To edge the appetite; thou seekest none.
Methinks the countless fwarms thouhast devour'd,
And thousands that each hour thou gobbleft up,
This, lefs 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 fkinny hand,
And whets to keeneft eagerness his cravings:
As if Difcafes, Maifacres, and Poison,

Famine and War, were not thy caterers!

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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 shall alarm thy captives,
And roufe the long, long fleepers into life,
Day-light, and liberty.

Then must 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 stood 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 couldft 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 most flow affenting
Had not a fcruple left. This having done,
He mounted up to heav'n. Methinks I see him
Climb the aërial heights, and glide along
Athwart the fevering clouds; but the faint eve,
Flung backward in the chace, foon drops its hold,
Difabled quite, and jaded with pursuing.
Heaven's portals wide expand to let him in ;
Nor are his friends fhut out; as fome great prince
Not for himself alone procures admiffion,
But for his train; it was his royal will,
That where he is, there fhould his followers be.
Death only lies between, a gloomy path!
Made yet more gloomy by our coward fears!
But nor untrod, nor tedious; the fatigue
Will foon go off. Befides, there's no by-road
To blifs. Then why, like ill-condition'd children,
Start we at tranfient hardships in the way
That leads to purer air and fofter fkies,
And a ne'er-fetting fun? Fools that we are!
We wish to be where fweets unwith'ring bloom;
But ftrait our wish revoke, and will not go.
So have I feen, upon a fuminer's even,
Faft by the riv'let's brink a youngster play;
How withfally he looks to ffem the tide f
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 wifh'd-for fhore. Prodigious changel
Our bane turn'd to a bleffing! Deach difarm'd
Lofes his felness 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 spent, whofe early care it was,
D 2

His

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, struggles 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! O then!
Each earth-born joy grows vile, or disappears,
Shrunk to a thing of nought. O how he longs
To have his palport fign'd, and be dismiss'd'
'Tis done, and now he's happy! The glad foul
Has not a with 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 muft give back its long coininitted dust
Inviolate and faithfully fhall these
Make up the full account; not the least atom
Embezzled, or miflaid, 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
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
Thro' length of days; and what he can he will:
His faithfulness ftands bound to fee it done.

When the dread trumpet founds, the flumb'ring
Not unattentive to the call, fhall wake; [duft,
And ev'ry joint poffefs its proper place,
With a new elegance of form, unknown
To its firft ftate. Nor fhall the confcious foul
Miftake his partner; but amidst the crowd,
Singling its other half into its arms,
Shall rush, with all th'impatience of a man
That's new come home, who having long been
abfent,

With hafte runs over every different room,
In pain to fee the whole. Thrice happy meeting!
Nor time, nor death, thall ever part them more.
'Tis but a night, a long and moonless 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 dozes till the dawn of day,
Thenclaps his well-fledg'd wings, and bears away.

$57. On the Eternity of the Supreme Being.
SMART.

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HAIL, wond'rous Being, who in power

fupreme

Exifts from everlasting! whose great name
Deep in the human heart, and every atom
The Air, the Earth, or azure Main contains,
In undecypher'd characters is wrote-
Incomprehenfible !-O what can words,
The weak interpreters of mortal thoughts,
Or what can thoughts (tho' wild of wing they rove
Thro' the vast concave of the æthereal round)

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If to the Heaven of Heavens they wing their way
Adventurous, like the birds of night, they're loft,
And delug'd in the flood of dazzling day.-

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

He may if thou, who from the witless babe
Ordaineft honor, glory, ftrength, and praife,
Uplift th'unpinion'd Mufe, and deign'st t'affist,
Great Poet of the Univerie, his fong.

Before this earthly Planet wound her course
Round Light's perennial fountain; before Light
Herfelf 'gan fhine, and at th'infpiring word
Shot to existence in a blaze of day;
Before "the Morning-Stars together fang,"
And hail'd Thee Architect of countlefs 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
Goodnefs, that knows no bounds, from blefling
Or keep th'immenfe Artificer in floth? [ever,
Avaunt the duft-directed crawling thought,
The Puiffance immeafurably vaft,
And Bounty inconceivable, could reft
Content, exhaufted with one week of action-
No-in th'exertion of thy righteous power,
Ten thousand times more active than the Sun,
Thou reign'd, and with a mighty hand compos'd
Syftems innumerable, matchlefs all,
All ftampt with thine uncounterfeited feal.
But yet (if ftill no more ftupendous heights
The Mufe unblam'd her aching fenfe may ftrain)
Perhaps wrapt up in contemplation deep,
The beft of Beings on the nobleft theme
Might ruminate at leifure, Scope immenfe
Th'eternal Power and Godhead to explore,
And with itself th'omnifcient mind replete.
This were enough to fill the boundlefs All.
This were a Sabbath worthy the Supreme !
Perhaps enthron'd amidst a choicer few
Of fpirits inferior, he might greatly plan
The two prime pillars of the Univerfe,
Creation and Redemption and a while
Paufe with the grand prefentiments of glory.
Perhaps but air's conjecture here below,
All ignorance, and felf-pluin'd vanity-
O Thou, whofe ways to wonder at's diftruft,
And all we may) be glorify'd, be prais'd. [perith,
Whom to defcribe's prefumption (all we can-

A day fhall come when all this Earth fhall
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 vanish into void; the earth beneath
Shall fever to the cearer, and devour
Th'enormous blaze of the deftructive flames.
Ye rocks that mock the raving of the floods,
And proudly frown upon the th'impatient deep,
Where is your grandeur now? Ye foaming waves,

That

[cedars

That all along th'immenfe Atlantic roar,
In vain ye fwell; will a few drops fuffice
To quench the inextinguishable fire?
Ye mountains, on whofe cloud-crown'd tops the
Are leffen'd into fhrubs, magnific piles,
That prop the painted chambers of the heavens,
And fix the earth continual; Athos, where?
Where, Teneriff's, thy ftatelinefs to-day?
What, Ætna, are thy flames to thefe? No more
Than the poor glow-worm to the golden fun.

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

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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 brandifh the tail cedars on their tops, With humbler vales muft to perdition yield; Tho' the gilt Sun, and filver treffed Moon, With all her bright retinue must be loft; 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 The flaming fword's intolerable blaze I fee! He comes! th'Archangel from above. "Arife ye tenants of the filent grave, "Awake incorruptible, and arife: "From east to weft, from the Antarctic pole "To regions Hyperborean, all ye fons, "Ye fons of Adam, and ye heirs of heav'n"Arife ye tenants of the filent grave, "Awake incorruptible, and arife."

[hear;

[paft,

'Tis then, nor fooner, that the reflefs mind Shall find itself at home; and like the ark, Fix'd on the mountain-top, fhall look aloft O'er the vague paffage of precarious life; And, winds and waves, and rocks and tempefts Enjoy the everlafting calm of Heaven : 'Tis then, nor fooner, that the deathlefs foul Shall justly 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 fruitlefs 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 yet all were vain

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37

To speak 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, confets his reign, And let the angelic, archangelic band, With all the hofts of Heaven, cherubic forms, And forms feraphic, with her filver trump And golden lyres attend :-"For Thou art holy, "For Thou art one, th'Eternal, who alone "Exerts all goodnets, and tranfcends all praise !"

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

Lift ye! how nature with ten thousand tongues
Begins the grand thankfgiving, 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 inortal eye unkenn'd -- Where Eaft 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 hoft Ev'n face to face ftand visibly confeft;

Yet know, that nor in prefence or in power Shines He lefs perfect here; 'tis man's dim eye That makes th'obfcurity. He is the fame; Alike in all his univerfe the fame.

Whether the mind along the fpangled fky Measures 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 like a javelin, to his diftant goal; [vens, Or where in Heaven above, the Heaven of Hea Burn brighter funs, and goodlier planets roll With fatellites more glorious-Thou art there.

Or whether on the ocean's boisterous back Thou ride triumphant, and with ouftretch'd arm Curb the wild winds and difcipline the billows, The fuppliant failor finds Thee there, his chief, His only help-When thou rebuk'ft the ftorm It ceafes and the veffel gently glides Along the gloffy level of the calm.

O! could I fearch the bofom of the fea, Down the great depth defcending; there thy works Would alfo speak thy refidence; and there Would I, thy fervant, like the still profound Aftonifh'd into filence mufe thy praife! D 3

Behold!

Behold! behold! th'unplanted garden round
Of vegetable coral, fea-flowers gay,
And fhrubs 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 paftine takes with tranfport, proud to fee
The ocean's vaft dominion all his own.

Hence thro' the genial bowels of the earth
Eafy may fancy país; till at thy mines,
Gani or Raolconda, the arrive,
And from the adamant's imperial blaze,
Form weak ideas of her Maker's glory.
Next to Pegu or Ceylon let me rove,
Where the rich ruby (deem'd by fages old
Of fov'reign virtue) fparkles ev'n like Sirius,
And bluthes into flames. Thence will I go
To undermine the treafure-fertile womb
Of the huge Pyrenean, to detect
The agate and the deep-intrenched gem
Of kindred jaiper - Nature in them both
Delights to play the mimic on hertelf;
And in their veins the oft pourtrays their forms
Of leaning hills, of trees erect, and streams
Now ftealing foftly on, now thundering down
In defperate cafcade, with flowers and beasts,
And all the living landskip of the vale.
In vain thy pencil, Claudio, or Pouffin,
Or thine, immortal Guido, would essay
Such skill to imitate-it is the hand

Of God himself — for God himself is there. [vance
Hence with th'afcending fprings let me ad-
Thro' beds of magnets, ininerals, and spar,
Up to the mountain's fummit, there t'indulge
Th'ambition of the comprehenfive eye,
That dares to call th'horizon all her own.
Behold the foreft, and th'expanfive verdure
Of yonder level lawn, whofe fmooth-fhorn fod
No object interrupts, unlefs the oak

-

His lordly head uprears, and branching arms
Extends Behold, in regal folitude
And paftoral magnificence he ftands
So fimple and fo great, the under-wood
Of meaner rank, an awful diftance keep.
Yet thou art there, yet God himfelf is there,
Ev'n on the bufh (tho' not as when to Mofes
He fhone in burning majesty reveal'd).
Nathlefs confpicuous in the linnet's throat
Is his unbounded goodness - Thee her Maker,
Thee her Preferver chaunts fhe in her fong;
While all the emulative vocal tribe

The grateful leffon learn- no other voice
Is heard, no other found-for, in attention
Buried, ev'n babbling Echo holds her peace.
Now from the plains, where th'unbounded prof
Gives liberty her utmost scope to range, [pect
Turn we to yon enclosures, where appears
Chequer'd variety in all her forms,
Which the vague mind attract, and still fufpend
With fweet perplexity. What are yon towers,
The work of labouring man and clumfy art,
Seen with the ring-dove's neft? On that tall beech
Her penfile houfe the feather'd artist builds-
The rocking winds moleft her not; for fee,

With fuch due poise the wond'rous fabric's hung,
That, like the compafs in the bark, it keeps
True to itself, and stedfast ev'n in ftorms.
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 vermillion- 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 star
Bedeck'd the crimfon curtains of the sky;
Tho' neither vegetable, beaft, nor bird
Were extant on the furface of this ball,
Nor lurking gem beneath; tho' the great fea
Slept in profound stagnation, and the air
Had left no thunder to pronounce its Maker;
Yet man at home, within himself might find
The Deity immenfe, and in that frame,
So fearfully, fo wonderfully made,
See and adore his providence and power-
I fee, and I adore- O God moft bounteous !
O infinite of goodness and of glory, [Thee;
The knee, that thou haft fhap'd, fhall bend to
The tongue which thou haft tun'd, shall chaunt

thy praife;

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

$59. On the Omnifcience of the Supreme Being. SMART.

ARISE, divine Urania, with new strains
Tohymn 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 ears founds filverly so sweet,
Come with thy precious incenfe, bring thy gifts,
And with thy choiceft ftores the altar crown.
Thou too, my heart, whom He, and He alone
Who all things knows, can know, with love re-
Regenerate, and pure, pour all thyfelf [plete,
A living facrifice before his throne !
And may th'eternal, high myfterious tree,
That in the centre of the arched heavens [branch
Bears the rich fruit of knowledge, with fome
Stoop to my humble reach, and bless my toil!
When in my mother's womb conceal'd I lay,
A fenfelefs embryo, then my foul thou knew'ft,
Knew'ft all her future workings, every thought,
And every faint idea yet unforın'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 vouchsafe,
And taught me by that reason thou inspir'dft,
That what of knowledge in my mind was low,
Imperfect, incorrect-in Thee is wond'rous,
Uncircumfcrib'd, unfearchably profound,

And

And eftimable folely by itself.
What is that fecret power that guides the brutes,
Which Ignorance calls Instinct? Tis from Thee,
It is the operation of thine hands
Immediate, instantaneous; 'tis thy wisdom
That glorious fhines tranfparent thro' thy works.
Who taught the pye, or who forwarn'd the jay
To fhun the deadly nightfhade? Tho' the cherry
Boafts not a gloffier hue, nor does the plum
Lure with more feeming fweets the amorous eye,
Yet will not the fagacious birds, decoy'd
By fair appearance, touch the noxious fruit.
They know the tafte is fatal, whence alarm'd,
Swift on the winnowingwinds theywork theirway.
Go to, proud reas'ner, philosophic Man,
Haft thou fuch prudence, thou fuch knowledge?
Full many a race has fell into the fnare [-No.
Of meretricious looks, of pleafing surface;
And oft in defart ifles the famifh'd pilgrim,
By forms of fruit, and luscious tafte beguil'd,
Like his forefather Adam, eats and dies.
For why his wifdom on the leaden feet
Of flow Experience, dully tedious, creeps
And comes, like vengeance, after long delay.
The venerable fage, that nightly trims
The learned lamp, t'inveftigate the powers
Of plants medicinal, the earth, the air,
And the dark regions of the foffil world,
Grows old in following what he ne'er fhall find;
Studious in vain! till haply, at the last
He fpies a mift, then fhapes into mountains,
And bafelefs fabrics from conjecture builds:
While the domeftic animal that guards
At midnight hours his threshold, if opprefs'd
By fudden sickness, at his master'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 the art of Nature and unlearn'd deceit :
Along the fod, in counterfeited death,
Mute, motionless they lie; full well appriz'd
That the rapacious adverfary's near.
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 crippl'd Winter 'gins t'advance, prepares
Her annual flight, and in fome poplar fhade
Takes her melodius leave, who then's her pilot?
Who points her paffage thro' the pathlefs void
To realms from us remote, to us unknown?
Her science 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 East, but inftant knows
What Newton + or not fought, or fought in vain.
Illuftrious name! irrefragable proof

* The Hen Turkey.

Of man's vaft genius, and the foaring foul !
Yet what wert thou to Him, who knew his works
Before creation form'd them; lông before

He measur'd in the hollow of his hand
Th'exulting Ocean, and the highest Heavens
He comprehended with a fran, and weigh'd
The mighty mountains in his golden fcales;
Who fhone fupreme, who was himself the light,
Ere yet refraction learn'd her fkill to paint,
And bend athwart the clouds her beauteous bow.
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!
O! how fublimely glorious to apply
To God's own honour, and good-will to man,
That wisdom 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 ease, by placing to their view
The fage induftrious Ant, the wifest infect,
And beft œconomist 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, conscious that December's on the march,
Pointing with icy hand to Want and Woe,
She waits his dire approach, and undismay'd
Receives him as a welcome guest, 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 most
And unexampl'd housewifery the forms:
Then to the field the hies, and on her back,
Burthen immenfe! fhe bears the cumbrous corn.
Then many a weary step, and many a strain,
And many a grievous groan fubdued, at length
Up the huge hill the hardly heaves it home:
Nor refts the here her providence, but nips
With fubtle tooth the grain, left from her garner
In mifchievous fertility it steal,
And back to day-light vegetate its way.
Go to the Ant, thou fluggard, learn to live,
And by her wary ways reform thine own.
But if thy deaden'd fenfe and liftless thought
More glaring evidence demand, behold,
Where yon pellucid populous hive prefents
| A yet uncopied model to the world!
There Machiavel in the reflecting glafs
May read himself a fool. The chemift there
May with astonishment invidious view
His toils out-done by each plebeian bee
Who, at the royal mandate, on the wing
From various herbs, and from difcordant flowers,
A perfect harmony of sweets compounds.

Avaunt, Conceit, Ambition, take thy flight
Back to the Prince of vanity and air!

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