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Beholding in the many-tinctur'd bow
The promife of a fafer world below.

When wild ambition rear'd its impious head,
And rifing Babel Heav'n with pride furvey'd,
Thy word the mighty labour could confound,
And leave the mafs to moulder with the ground.
From Thee all human actions take their fprings,
The rife of empires, and the fall of kings!
See the vaft theatre of time difplay'd,
While o'er the fcene fucceeding heroes tread !
With pomp the fhining images fucceed,
What leaders triumph! and what monarchs bleed!
Perform the parts thy providence affign'd;
Their pride, their paffions to thy ends inclin'd:
A while they glitter in the face of day,
Then at thy nod the phantoms pafs away;
No traces left of all the bufy fcene,
But that remembrance fays--The things have been!
• But (questions doubt) whence fickly nature feels
The ague-fits her face fo oft reveals? [breaft?
"Whenceearthquakes heave the earth's astonish'd
• Whence tempefts rage or yellow plagues infeft?
Whence draws rank Afric her empoifon'd store?
Or liquid fires explosive Etna pour?"
Go, fceptic mole ! demand th'eternal caufe,
The fecret of his all-preferving laws!
The depths of wifdom infinite explore,
And afk thy Maker--why he knows no more?
Thy error ftill in moral things as great,
As vain to cavil at the ways of fate.
To ask why profperous Vice fo oft fucceeds,
Why fuffers Innocence, or Virtue bleeds!
Why monfters, nature muft with blushes own,
By crimes grow pow'rful, and difgrace a throne!
Why faints and fages, mark'd in every age,
Perith, the victims of tyrannic rage;
Why Socrates for truth and freedom fell,
Or Nero reign'd the delegate of hell:
In vain by reafon is the maze purfu’d,
Of ill triumphant, and afflicted good.
Fix'd to the hold, fo might the failor aim
To judge the pilot, and the fteerage blame,
As we direct to God what fhould belong,
Or fay that fov'reign wifdom governs wrong.
Nor always vice does uncorrected go,
Nor virtue unrewarded pafs below!
Oft facred juftice lifts her awful head,
And dooms the tyrant and th'ufurper dead;
Oft Providence, more friendly than fevere,
Arrefts the hero in his wild career;
Directs the fever, poniard, or the ball,

By which an Ammon, Charles, or Cæfar fall:
Or when the curfed Borgias brew the cup
For merit, bids the monsters drink it up;
On violence oft retorts the cruel fpear,
Or fetters cunning in its crafty fnare:
Relieves the innocent, exalts the juft,
And lays the proud oppreffor in the duft!

But faft as time's fwift pinions can convey,
Haftens the pomp of that tremendous day,
When to the view of all created eyes,
God's high tribunal thall majestic rife,
When the loud trumpet fhall affemble round
The dead, reviving at the piercing found !

Where men and angels fhall to audit come,
And millions yet unborn receive their doom!
Then fhall fair Providence, to all display'd,
Appear divinely bright without a fhade;
In light triumphant all her acts be shown,
And blushing Doubt eternal Wisdom own!

Meanwhile, thou great Intelligence fupreme,
Sov'reign Director of this mighty frame,
Whofe watchful hand and all-observing ken
Fashions the hearts, and views the ways of men,
Whether thy hand the plenteous table spread,
Or measure fparingly the daily bread;
Whether or wealth or honours gild the scene,
Or wants deform, and wafting anguifh ftain;
On Thee let truth and virtue firm rely,
Blefs'd in the care of thy approving eye!
Know that thy Providence, their conftant friend,
Thro' life shall guard them, and in death attend;
With everlasting arms their caufe embrace,
And crown the paths of piety with peace.

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Ye feraphs, who God's throne encircling ftill, With holy zeal your golden cenfers fill; Ye flaming minifters to diftant lands, Who bear, obfequious, his divine commands; Ye cherubs who compofe the facred choir, Attuning to the voice th'angelic lyre! Or ye fair natives of the heav'nly plain, Who once were mortal-now a happier train! Who fpend in peaceful love your joyful hours, In blissful meads and amaranthine bow'rs, Oh lend one fpark of your celeftial fire, Oh deign my glowing bofom to inspire, And aid the Mufe's unexperienc'd wing, While Goodness, theme divine, the foars to fing! Tho' all thy attributes divinely fair, Thy full perfection, glorious God, declare : Yet if one beams fuperior to the reft, Oh let thy goodness fairest be confeft: As fhines the moon amidst her ftarry train, As breathes the rofe amongst the flow'ry fcene, As the mild dove her filver plumes difplays, So fheds thy mercy its diftinguish'd rays.

This led, Creator mild, thy gracious hand, When formlefs Chaos heard thy high command; When pleas'd, thy eye thy matchless works review'd,

And Goodness, placid, spoke that all was good!
Nor only does in heav'n thy goodness fhine;
Delighted nature feels its warmth divine;
The vital fun's illuminating beam,
The filver crefcent, and the ftarry gleam;
As day and night, alternate they command,
Proclaim that truth to ev'ry diftant land.

See fmiling nature, with thy treasures fair,
Confefs thy bounty and parental care;
Renew'd by thee, the faithful feafons rife,
And earth with plenty all her fons fupplies.
The generous lion and the brinded boar,
As nightly thro' the foreft-walks they roar,
From thee, Almighty Maker, feek their prey;
Nor from thy hand unfated go away:


To thee for meat the callow ravens cry,
Supported by thy all-preferving eye:
From thee, the feather'd natives of the plain,
Or those who range the field, or plough the main,
Receive with conftant courfe th'appointed food,
And tafte the cup of univerfal good;

Thy hand thou open'ft, million'd myriads live;
Thou frown'ft, they faint;-thou fimil'ft, and they
On virtue's acre, as on rapine's ftores, [revive!
See Heav'n, impartial, deal the fruitful fhow'rs!
'Life's common bleffings all her children fhare,'
Tread the fame earth, and breathe a gen'ral air!
Without diftinction, boundlefs bleflings fall,
And Goodnefs, like the fun, enlightens all!
Oh man, degenerate man! offend no more!
Go, learn of brutes thy Maker to adore!
Shall thefe, thro' ev'ry tribe, his bounty own;
Of all his works ungrateful thou alone!
Deaf when the tuneful voice of mercy cries,
And blind when fov'reign Goodness charms the
Mark how the wretch his awful name blaf-
His pity fpares, his clemency reclaims !
Obferve his patience with the guilty strive,
And bid the criminal repent and live:
Recal the fugitive with gentle eye,
Befeech the obftinate, he would not die !
Amazing tenderness-amazing moft,
The foul on whom fuch mercy fhould be loft!
Butwould't thou view the rays of goodnefs join
In one ftrong point of radiance all divine!
Behold, celeftial mufe! yon eaftern light;
To Bethlem's plain, adoring, bend thy fight!
Hear the glad ineffage to the fhepherds giv'n,
Good-will on earth to man, and peace in heav'n.'
Attend the fwains, purfue the ftarry road,
And hail to earth the Saviour and the God!
Redemption! oh thou beauteous mystic plain!
Thou falutary fource of life to man!
What tongue can fpeak thy comprehenfive grace?
What thought thy depths unfathomable trace?
When loft in fin our ruin'd nature lay,
When awful juftice claim'd her righteous pay!
See the mild Saviour bend his pitying eye,
And ftop the lightning juft prepar'd to fly!
(O ftrange effect of unexampl'd love!)
View him defcend the heav'nly throne above:
Patient, the ills of mortal lite endure;
Calm, tho' revil'd, and innocent, tho' poor!
Uncertain his abode, and coarse his food,
His life one fair continu'd scene of good!
For us fuftain the wrath to man decreed,
The victim of eternal justice bleed!
Look! to the cross the Lord of Life is ty'd,
They pierce his hands, and wound his facred fide!
See God expires! our forfeit to atone,
While nature trembles at his parting groan
Advance thou hopeless mortal fteel'd in guilt,
Behold, and if thou can'st, forbear to melt!
Shall Jefus die thy freedom to regain,
And wilt thou drag the voluntary chain ?
Wilt thou refufe thy kind afcent to give,
When dying he looks down to bid thee live!
Perverfe, wilt thou reject the proffer'd good
Bought with his life, and ftreaming in his blood!


Whofe virtue can thy deepest crimes efface,
Re-heal thy nature, and confirm thy peace !
Can all the errors of thy life atone,
And raife thee from a rebel to a fon!

O bleft Redeemer, from thy facred throne, Where faints and angels fing thy triumphs won! (Where, from the grave thou rais'd thy glorious Chain'd to thy car the pow'rs infernal led) [head, From that exalted height of blifs fupreme, Look down on thofe who bear thy facred name; Reftore their ways, infpire them by thy grace, Thy laws to follow, and thy fteps to trace; Thy bright example to thy doctrine join, And by their morals prove their faith divine ! Nor only to thy church confine thy ray; O'er the glad world thy healing light difplay; Fair Sun of Righteoufnels! in beauty rife, And clear the mifts that cloud the mental fkies! To Judah's remnant, now a scatter'd train, Oh great Melliah! fhow thy promis'd reign; O'er earth as wide, thy faving warmth diffufe, As fpreads the ambient air, or falling dews, And hafte the time when, vanquish'd by thy pow'r,

Death fhall expire, and fin defile no more!

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Hence diftant far, ye fons of earth profane,
The loose, ambitious, covetous, or vain :
Ye worms of pow'r! ye minion'd flaves of state,
The wanton vulgar, and the fordid great !
But come, ye purer fouls, from drois refin'd,
The blameless heart and uncorrupted mind!
Let your chafte hands the holy altars raife,
Fresh incenfe bring, and light the glowing blaze;
Your grateful voices aid the mufe, to fing
The spotless juftice of th'Almighty King!

As only Rectitude divine he knows,
As truth and fanctity his thought compofe;
So thefe the dictates which th’Eternal Mind
To reasonable beings has aflign'd;

Thefe has his care on ev'ry mind imprefs'd,
The confcious feals the Hand of heav'n atteft!
When man, perverfe, for wrong forfakes the right,
He still attentive keeps the fault in fight;
Demands the ftrict atonement fhould be made,
And claims the forfeit on th'offender's head!

But Doubt demands -- "Why man difpos'd

"this way?

"Why left the dang'rous choice to go aftray?
"If Heav'n that made him did the fault forefee,
"Thence follows, Heav'n is more to blame than
No; had to good the heart alone inclin'd, [he."
What toil, what prize had virtue been affign'd?
From obftacles her nobleft triumphs flow,
Her fpirits languifh when the finds no foe!
Man might perhaps have fo been happy ftill,
Happy, without the privilege of will,
And juft, because his hands were ty'd from ill!
O wond'rous scheme to mend th'almighty plan,
By finking all the dignity of man i

Yet turn thy eyes, vain fceptic, own thy pride,
And view thy happiness and choice ally'd;
See virtue from herself her blifs derive,
A blifs, beyond the pow'r of thrones to give ;

E 2


See vice of empire and of wealth poffefs'd, Pine at the heart, and feel herfelf unblefs'd. And fay, were yet no farther marks affign'd, Is man ungrateful? or is Heav'n unkind ? "Yes, all the woes from Heav'n permiffive fall, "The wretch adopts,--the wretch improves them


From his wild luft, or his oppreffive deed,
Rapes, battles, murders, facrilege proceed;
His wild ambition thins the peopl'd carth,
Or from his av rice, Farne takes his birth;
Had nature giv'n the hero wings to fly,
His pride would lead him to attempt the sky!
To angels make the pigmy's folly known,
And draw c'en pity from th'eternal throne.
Yet, while on earth triumphant vice prevails,
Celeftial juftice balances her fcales;
With eye unbias'd all the scene furveys;
With hand impartial, ev'ry crime the weighs;
Oft clofe purfuing at his trembling heels,
The man of blood her awful prefence feels;
Oft from her arm, anidft the blaze of state,
The regal tyrant, with fuccefs elate,
Is fore'd to leap the precipice of fate!
Or if the villain pafs unpunith'd here,
'Tis but to make the future ftroke fevere;
For foon or late, eternal Juftice pays
Mankind the juft defert of all their ways.

'Tis in that awful all-dif lofing day!
When high Omnifcience thall her books difplay;
When Juftice fhall prefent her ftrict account,
While Confcience thall atteft the due amount,
That all who feel, condemn'd, the dreadful rod,
Shall own that righteous are the ways of God!

Oh then, while penitence can fate difarm, While ling'ring Juftice yet with-holds its arm; While heav'nly patience grants the precious time, Let the loft finner think him of his crime; Immediate, to the feat of mercy fly, Nor wait to morrow-left to-night he die!

But tremble, all ye fins of blackeft birth, Ye giants, that deform the face of earth; Tremble, ye fons of aggravated guilt, And, ere too late, let forrow learn to melt; Remorfelefs Murder! drop thy hand fevere, And bathe thy bloody weapon with a tear; Go, Lara impure! converte with friendly light, Forfake the manfions of defiling night; Quit, dark Hypocrify, thy thin difguife, Nor think to cheat the notice of the fkies! Unfocial Avarice, thy grafp forego, And bid the ufeful treafure learn to flow; Reftore, Injuftice, the defrauded gain! Oppreffion, bend to cafe the captive's chain, Ere awful Juftice ftrike the fatal blow, And drive you to the realms of night below! But Doubt refumes," If Justice has decreed "The punishment proportion'd to the deed, "Eternal mifery feem, too fevere, "Too dread a weight for wretched man to bear! "Too harsh!--that endic's torments thoald repay "The crimes of life, the errors of the day !"

In via our reafon would prefumptuoas pry; Heav'n's counfels are beyond conception high;

In vain would thought his measur'd justice scan! His ways how different from the ways of man! Too deep for thee his fecrets are to know; Enquire not, but more wifely fhun the woe: Warn'd by his threat'nings, to his laws attend, And learn to make Omnipotence thy friend!

Our weaker laws, to gain the purpos'd ends, Oft pafs the bounds the law-giver intends; Oft partial power, to ferve its own defign, Warps from the text, exceeding reafon's line; Strikes, bias'd, at the perfon, not the deed, And fees the guiltless unprotected bleed !

But God alone, with unimpaffion'd fight,
Surveys the nice barrier of wrong and right;
And, while fubfervient, as his will ordains,
Obedient Nature yields the prefent means;
While neither force nor paffions guide his views,
Ev'n Evil works the purpofe he purfues!
That bitter fpring! the fource of human pain!
Heal'd by his touch, does mineral health contain!
And dark Affliction, at his potent nod,
Withdraws its cloud, and brightens into good.

Thus human juftice-(far as man can go)
For private safety strikes the dubious blow,
But Rectitude divine, with nobler foul,
Confults each individual in the whole!
Directs the iffues of each moral strife,
And fees creation ftruggle into life!

And you, ye happier fouls! who in his ways
Obfervant walk, and fing his daily praife!
Ye righteous few! whofe calm unruffled breafts
No fears can darken, and no guilt infefts,
To whom his gracious promifes extend,
In whom they centre, and in whom shall end,
Which (blefs'd on that foundation fure who
Shall with eternal juftice be fulfill'd: [build)
Ye fons of life, to whofe glad hope is giv'n
The bright reverfion of approaching heav'n,
With grateful hearts his glorious praise recite,
Whofe love from darknefs call'd you out to
So let your piety reflective thine,


As men may thence confefs his truth divine!
And when this mortal veil, as foon it muft,
Shall drop, returning to its native duft,
The work of life with approbation done,
Receive from God your bright immortal crown!

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But oh, advent'rous Mufe, restrain thy flight, Dare not the blaze of uncreated light! Before whofe glorious throne with dread furprife, Th'adoring feraph veils his dazzled eyes; Whofe pure effulgence, radiant to excefs, No colours can deteribe, or words exprefs! All the fair beauties, all the lucid ftores, Which o'er thy works thy hand refplendent pours, Feeble, thy brighter glories to display, Pale as the noon before the folar ray!

Sce on his throne the gaudy Perfian plac'd, In all the pomp of the luxuriant east ! While mingling gems a borrow'd day unfold, And the rich pople wave: embofs'd with gold; Yet mark thi cene of pointed grandeur yield To the fairly that adorns the field !


Obscur'd, behold that fainter lily lies
By the rich bird's inimitable dyes;
Yet thefe furvey, confounded and outdone,
By the fuperior luftre of the fun;

That fun himfelf withdraws his leffen'd beam
From Thee, the glorious Author of his frame!
Tranfcendent Pow'r! fole Arbiter of fate!

How great thy glory! and thy blifs how great!
To view from thy exalted throne above
(Eternal fource of light, and life, and love')
Unnumber'd creatures draw their finiling birth,
To blefs the heav'ns, or beautify the earth;
While fyftems roll, obedient to thy view,
And worlds rejoice-which Newton never knew.
Then raife the fong, the gen'ral anthem raife,
And fwell the concert of eternal praife!
Aflift ye orbs, that form this boundlefs whole,
Which in the womb of space unnumber'd roll;
Ye planets, who compofe our leffer fcheme,
And bend, concertive, round the folar frame;
Thou eye of nature! whofe extenfive ray
With endless charms adorns the face of day;
Confenting raife th'harmonious joyful found,
And bear his praifes thro' the vast profound:
His praife, ye winds that fan the cheerful air,
Swift as they país along your pinions bear!
His praife let ocean thro' her realms display,
Far as her circling billows can convey !
His praife ye mifty vapours wide diffufe,
In rains defcending, or in milder dews;
His praifes whifper, ye majeftic trees,
As your tops ruftle to the gentle breeze!
Hi, praife around, ye flow'ry tribes, exhale,
Far as your fweets embalm the fpicy gale!
His prane, ye dimpled ftreams, to earth reveal,
As pleas'd ye murmur thro' the flow'ry vale:
His praife, ye feather'd choirs diftinguifh'd fing,
As to your notes the vocal forests ring!
His praife proclaim, ye monsters of the deep,
Who in the vaft abyfs your revels keep!
Or ye fair natives of our earthly feene,
Who range the wilds, or haunt the pafture

Nor thou, vain lord of earth, with carclefs ear,
The univerfal hymn of worship hear!
But ardent in the facred chorus join,
Thy foul tranfported with the talk divine!
While by his works th' Almighty is confefs'd,
Supremely glorious, and fupremely blets'd!
Great Lord of Life! from whom this humble


Derives the pow'r to fing thy holy name,
Forgives the lowly Mufe, whofe artlets lay
Has dar'd thy facred Attributes furvey!
Delighted oft thro' Nature's beauteous field,
Has the ador'd thy Witdom bright reveal'd;
Oft have her withes aim'd the fecret fong,
But awful rev'rence ftill with-held her tongue :
Yet as thy bounty lent the reas'ning beam,
As feels my confcious breaft the vital flame,
So, bleft Creator, let thy fervant pay
His mite of gratitude this feeble way,
Thy Goodness own, thy Providence adore,
And yield thee only-what was thine before.

$ 64. Ode to Wisdom. Mifs CARTER.

THE folitary bird of night

Thro' the pale fhades now wings his flight,
And quits the time-fhook tow'r,
Where, thelter'd from the blaze of day,
In philofophic gloom he lay,
Beneath his ivy bow'r.

With joy I hear the folemn found,
Which midnight echoes waft around,
And fighing gales repeat:
Fav'rite of Pallas! I attend,

And, faithful to thy fummons, bend
At Wifdom's awful feat.

She loves the cool, the filent eve,
Where no falfe fhows of life deceive,
Beneath the lunar ray :

Here Folly drops each vain difguife,
Nor fports her gaily-colour'd dyes,
As in the glare of day.

O Pallas! queen of ev'ry art,
"That glads the fenfe, or mends the heart,"
Bleft fource of purer joys;
In ev'ry form of beauty bright,
That captivates the mental fight

With pleafure and surprise;
To thy unfpotted farine I bow,
Affift thy modeft fuppliant's vow,

That breathes no wild defires :
But, taught by thy unerring rules,
To fhun the fruitlefs wifh of fools,
To nobler views afpires.

Not Fortune's gem, Ambition's plume,
Nor Cytherea's fading bloom,

Be objects of my pray'r:
Let av'rice, vanity, and pride,
Thefe glitt'ring envy'd toys, divide
The dull rewards of care.
To me thy better gifts impart,
Each moral beauty of the heart,

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By ftudious thought refin❜d : For wealth, the fimiles of glad content; For pow'r, its ampleft, beft extent,

An empire o'er my mind.

When Fortune drops her gay parade,
When Pleafure's tranfient rofes fade,
And wither in the tomb,

Unchang'd is thy immortal prize,
Thy ever-verdant laurels rife
In undecaying bloom.
By thee protected, I defy
The coxcomb's fncer, the ftupid lie
Of ignorance and fpite;
Alike contemn the lenden fool,
And all the pointed ridicule

Of undifcerning wit.

From envy, hurry, noife, and ftrife,
The dull impertinence of life,

In thy retreat I reft;
Purfue thee to thy peaceful groves,
Where Plato's facred fpirit roves,
In all thy graces drest.

He bid Ilyffus' tuneful ftream
Convey the philosophic theme

Of perfect, fair, and good:
Attentive Athens caught the found,
And all her lift'ning fons around

In awful filence ftood. Reclaim'd, her wild licentious youth Confeft the potent voice of truth, And felt it's just controul: The paffions ceas'd their loud alarms, And virtue's foft perfuafive charms

O'er all their fenfes ftole.

Thy breath infpires the poet's fong,
The patriot's free unbiafs'd tongue,
The hero's gen'rous ftrife:
'Thine are retirement's filent joys,
And all the fweet endearing ties
Of ftill domestic life.

No more to fabled names confin'd,
To Thee, fupreme, all-perfect mind,
My thoughts direct their flight:
Wifdom's thy gift, and all her force
From thee deriv'd, unchanging fource
Of intellectual light!

O fend her fure, her fteady ray
To regulate my doubtful

Thro' life's perplexing road;
The mifts of error to controul!
And thro' it's gloom direct my soul

To happiness and good!
Beneath her clear difcerning eye
The vifionary fhadows fly

Of folly's painted fhow;
She fees, thro' ev'ry fair difguife,
That all, but Virtue's folid joys,
Is vanity and woe.

$65. Elegy on the Death of Lady Coventry. Written in M.DCC.LX. MASON.

HE midnight clock has toll'd; and hark! THE the bell [found? Of death beats flow! Heard ye the note proIt paufes now; and now, with rifing knell, Flings to the hollow gale its fullen found. Yes; Coventry is dead. Attend the strain, Daughters of Albion! ye that, light as air, So oft have tripp'd in her fantastic train,

With hearts as gay, and faces half as fair: For fhe was fair beyond yon brighteft bloom (This envy owns, fince now her bloom is fled); Fair as the forms that, wove in fancy's loom,

Float in light vifion round the poet's head. Whene'er with foft ferenity fhe fmil'd,

Or caught the orient blufh of quick furprize, How fweetly mutable, how brightly wild, The liquid luftre darted from her eyes! Each look, each motion, wak'd a new-born grace, That o'er her form its tranfient glory cait: Some lovelier wonder foon ufurp'd the place, Chac'd by a charın ftill lovelier than the last.

That bell again! It tells us what she is;
On what she was, no more the ftrain prolong:
Luxuriant fancy, paufe! an hour like this
Demands the tribute of a serious fong.
Maria claims it from that fable bier,


Where cold and wan the flumb'rer refts her In ftill finall whifpers to reflection's ear

She breathes the folemn dictates of the dead. O catch the awful notes, and lift them loud! Proclaim the theme by fage, by fool, rever'd; Hear it, ye young, ye vain, ye great, ye proud! 'Tis Nature fpeaks, and Nature will be heard. Yes; ye fhall hear, and tremble as you hear, While, high with health, your hearts exulting E'en in the midft of pleasure's mad career, [leap; The mental monitor fhall wake and weep! For fay, than Coventry's propitious star, What brighter planet on your births arose? Or gave of fortune's gifts an ampler share, In life to lavish, or by death to lofe? Early to lofe! While borne on busy wing,

Ye fip the nectar of each varying bloom; Nor fear, while basking in the beams of spring, The wint❜ry ftorm that sweeps you to the tomb; Think of her fate! revere the heav'nly hand

That led her hence, tho' foon, by steps fo flow: Long at her couch Death took his patient ftand, And menac'd oft, and oft withheld the blow: To give reflection time, with lenient art,

Each fond delufion from her foul to steal; Teach her from folly peaceably to part,

And wean her from a world the lov'd fo well. Say, are ye fure his mercy shall extend

To you fo long a fpan? Alas, yefigh! [friend, Make then, while yet ye may, your God your And learn with equal ease to fleep or die! Nor think the Mufe, whofe fober voice ye hear,

Contracts with bigot frown her fullen brow; Cafts round religion's orb the mifts of fear, [glow.

Or fhades with horrors what with smiles fhould No; fhe would warm you with feraphic fire, Heirs as ye are of heav'n's eternal day; Would bid you boldly to that heav'n aspire,

Not fink and flumber in your cells of clay. Know, ye were form'd to range yon azure field, In yon etherial founts of blifs to lave: For then, fecure in faith's protecting fhield,

The fting from death,the vict'ry from the grave! Is this the bigot's rant? Away, ye vain, [fteep: Your hopes, your fears, in doubt, in dulnefs Go foothe your fouls, in sickness, grief, or pain, With the fad folace of eternal fleep!

Yet will I praise you, triflers as ye are, [creed,

More than thofe preachers of your fav'rite Who proudly fwell the brazen throat of war,

Who form the phalanx, bid the battle bleed, Nor wifh for more; who conquer but who die. Hear, Folly, hear, and triumph in the tale! Like you they reafon, not like you enjoy The breeze of blifs that fills your filken fail:


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