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Not to return; or if it did, its vifits,
Like those of angels, short, 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 stone and globes of fire,
Involv'd in pitchy clouds of finoke and ftench,
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 harmlefs. Sickneffes
Of ev'ry fize and fymptom, racking pains,
And blueft plagues are thine! See how the fiend
Profufely fcatters 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 discover'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 thofe ample defarts 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 feekeft none.
Methinks the countless swarms 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 keenest eagerness his cravings:
As if Difeafes, Maiacres, and Poison,

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 season,
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; self-vigorous he rofe,
And, fhaking off thy fetters, foon retook
Thofe fpoils his voluntary yielding lent.
(Sure pledge of our releasement 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 fee 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 purfuing.
Heaven's portals wide expand to let him in ;
Nor are his friends fhut out; as fome great prince
Not for himself alone procures admittion,
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 skies,
And a ne'er-fetting fun? Fools that we are!
We wish to be where fweets unwith'ring bloom;
But ftrait our wifh 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 withfully he looks to ftem 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 fhore. Prodigious changel
Our bane turn'd to a bleffing! Deash difarm'd
Lofes his felnefs 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 so foft.
Behold him in the ev'ning-tide of life,
A life well fpent, whofe early care it was,

D 2


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 fast-coming harvest! Then! O then!
Each earth-born joy grows vile, or difappears,
Shrunk to a thing of nought. O how he longs
To have his passport sign'd, and be difiifs'd'
'Tis done, and now he's happy! The glad foul
Has not a wifh uncrown'd. Ev'n the lag fleth
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 fpot of burial-earth,
Whether on land or in the fpacious fea,
But muft give back its long coininitted duft
Inviolate and faithfully fhall these
Make up the full account; not the least atom
Embezzled, or mislaid, of the whole tale.
Each foul thall have a body ready furnith'd;
And each thall 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 faithfulnefs ftands bound to fee it done.

When the dread trumpet founds, the flumb'ring
Not unattentive to the call, fhall wake; [duit,
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 ruth, with all th'impatience of a man
That's new come home, who having long been

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.

Being. SMART. who in power

$57. On the Eternity of the Supreme
HAIL, wond'rous Being, -

Exifts from everlafting! whofe 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 atheical round)

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 mix his feeble voice ?

He may if thou, who from the witlefs babe Ordaineft honor, glory, strength, and praise, Uplift th'unpinion'd Mufe, and deign'ft t'affift, Great Poet of the Univerfe, his fong.

Before this earthly Planet wound her courfe
Round Light's perennial fountain; before Light
Herfelf 'gan fhine, 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 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 bleffing
Or keep th'immenfe Artificer in floth? [ever,
Avaunt the duft-directed crawling thought,
The Puiflance immeafurably vast,
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 stupendous heights
The Muse unblain'd her aching sense may strain)
Perhaps wrapt up in contemplation deep,
The best of Beings on the nobleft theme
Might ruminate at leifure, Scope immenfe
Th'eternal Power 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 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 distrust,
Whom to defcribe's prefumption (all we can→→
And all we may be glorify'd, be prais'd. [perith,


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 fulphurcous 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 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, Etna, are thy flames to these? No more
Than the poor glow-worm to the golden fun.

Nor fhall the verdant vallies then remain
Safe in their meck submiTon; they the debt
Of nature and of juftice too must pay.
Yet I muft weep for you, ye rival fair,
Arno and Andalufia; but for thee
More largely, and with filial tcars 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.

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 muft fubmit,
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’st Eternal, as thou wert: Yet ftill furvives The foul of man immortal, perfect now, And candidate for unexpiring joys. [hear; 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 caft 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."


'Tis then, nor fooner, that the restless mind
Shall find itself at home; and like the ark,
Fix'd on the mountain-top, fhall look aloft
O'er the vague passage of precarious life;
And, winds and waves, and rocks and tempefts
Enjoy the everlasting calm of Heaven :
'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 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 swift,
The fiery-wing'd Imagination foar'd

Beyond ambition's wifh yet all-were vain


To fpeak 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 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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ONCE more I dare to roufe the founding ftring,

The Poet of my God-Awake, my glory,
Awake, my fute and harp-myfelf 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 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 praise.

O Thou, who or the lambkin, or the dove,
When offer'd by the lowly, meck 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 East nor West,
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 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 sky
Measures her pathlefs walk, ftudious to view
The works of vafter fabric, where the planets
Weave their harmonious rounds, their march di-
Still faithful, still 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 also speak thy refidence; and there
Would I, thy fervant, like the still profound
Aftonifh'd into filence mufe thy praise!

D 3


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) sparkles 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 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 stealing 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 Poutfin,
Or thine, immortal Guido, would effay
Such fkill to imitate-it is the hand

Of God himfelf-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'expansive verdure
Of yonder level lawn, whose smooth-shorn fod
No object interrupts, unless 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 distance keep.
Yet thou art there, yet God himself is there,
Ev'n on the bush (tho' not as when to Mofes
He fhone in burning majefty reveal'd).
Nathlefs confpicuous in the linnet's throat
Is his unbounded goodness - Thee her Maker,
Thee her Preferver chaunts the 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 von 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 clumsy 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 poife the wond'rous fabric's hung,
That, like the compafs in the bark, it keeps
True to itself, and ftedfast 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 ftar
Bedeck'd the crimson curtains of the sky;
Tho' neither vegetable, beast, nor bird
Were extant on the surface 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 immense, and in that frame,
So fearfully, fo wonderfully made,
See and adore his providence and power

I fee, and I adore - O God most bounteous!
O infinite of goodness and of glory, [Thee;
The knee, that thou haft fhap'd, shall bend to
The tongue which thou haft tun'd, shall chaunt

thy praise;

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

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

ARISE, divine Urania, with new strains

To hymn thy God! and thou, immortal Fame, Arife and blow thy everlafting trump! All glory to the Omnifcient, and praise, And power, and domination in the height! And thou, cherubic Gratitude, whofe voice To pious ears 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 alone Who all things knows, can know, with love reRegenerate, and pure, pour all thyself [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 unforin'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’dst, That what of knowledge in my mind was low, Imperfect, incorrect-in Thee is wond'rous, Uncircumfcrib'd, unfearchably profound,


And eftimable folely by itself.
What is that fecret power that guides the brutes,
Which Ignorance calls Inftinct? Tis from Thee,
It is the operation of thine hands
Immediate, inftantaneous; 'tis thy wisdom
That glorious fhincs transparent 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 theyworktheirway.
Go to, proud reas'ner, philofophic 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 shall find;
Studious in vain! till haply, at the last
He spies a mist, then shapes into mountains,
And bafeless fabrics from conjecture builds:
While the domeftic animal that guards
At midnight hours his threshold, if opprefs'd
By fudden fickness, 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 fcience is the fcience of her God.
Not the magnetic index to the North
E'er afcertains her course, 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 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 meafur'd in the hollow of his hand
Th'exulting Ocean, and the highest Heavens
He comprehended with a fan, 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 wifdom he alone of men poffefs'd
In plenitude fo rich, and scope fo rare.
How did he rouse the pamper'd filken fons
Of bloated ease, by placing to their view
The fage induftrious Ant, the wifeft 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 liftlefs thought
More glaring evidence demand, behold,
Where yon pellucid populous hive presents
A yet uncopied model to the world!
There Machiavel in the reflecting glafs
May read himself a fool. The chemift there
May with aftonishment 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 fweets compounds.

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

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