Cherubs and seraphs, potentates and thrones,() >>
Array'd in glorious light, hover on wing
Before his throne, and wait his fov'reign nod;
With active zeal, with sacred rapture fir'd,
To his extensive empire's utmost bound
They bear his orders, and his charge perform,
Yet He, ev'n He (ye ministers of flame,
Admire the condefcenfion and the grace !)
Employs a mortal form'd of meanest clay,
Debas'd by fin, whose best desert is hell,
Employs him to proclaim a SAVIOUR's name,
And offer pardon to a rebel world.

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This day my tongue, the glory of my frame,
Enjoy'd the honour of his advocate :
Immortal fouls, of more transcendent worth
Than Ophir, or Peru's exhaustless mines,
Are trufted to my care. Important trust !
What if fome wretched foul, (tremendous thought !)
Once favour'd with the gofpel's joyful found,
Now loft, forever loft through my neglect,
In dire infernal glooms, with flaming tongue,.r
Be heaping execrations on my head,

Whilft here fecure I dream my life away !

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What if fome ghoft, cut off from life and hope,
With fierce despairing eyes upturn'd to heaven,
That wildly ftare, and witness horrors huge,
Be roaring horrid, "LORD, avenge my blood

A

❝ On that unpitying wretch, who faw me run "With full career, the dire enchanting road "To these devouring flames, yet warn'd me not; "Or faintly warn'd me, and with languid tone,” "And cool harangue, denounc'd eternal fire, “And wrath divine!" At the dread fhocking thought My spirit fhudders, all my inmost soul *

Trembles and fhrinks. Sure, if the plaintive cries
Of spirits reprobate can reach the ear

Of their great Judge, they must be cries like these.
But if the meanest of that happy choir,
That with eternal fymphonies furround

The heavenly throne, can stand, and thus declare, "I owe it to his care that I am here,

"Next to Almighty grace: his faithful hand, "Regardless of the frowns he might incur, "Snatch'd me, reluctant, from approaching flames, 46 Ready to catch, and burn unquenchable.

"May richest grace reward his pious zeal

"With some bright mansion in this world of bliss !" Transporting thought! Then bleffed be the hand That form'd my elemental clay to man,

And ftill fupports me ! 'Tis worth while to live,
If I may live to purposes so great.

Awake, my dormant zeal ! for ever flame!
With gen'rous ardour for immortal souls;
And may my head, and tongue, and heart, and al
Spend and be spent in service so divine !

B E D LA M.

[FITZGERALD.]

WHERE proud Augufta, bleft with long repose,

Her ancient wall, and ruin'd bulwark fhows;
Close by a verdant plain, with graceful height,
A ftately fabric rifes to the fight.

Yet though its parts all elegantly shine,

And sweet proportion crowns the whole defign;
Though art, in ftrong expressive sculpture shown,
Confummate art informs the breathing stone;
Far other views than these within appear,
And woe and horror dwells for ever here.
For ever from the echoing roofs rebounds
A dreadful din of het'rogeneous founds;
From this, from that, from ev'ry quarter rife
Loud fhouts, and fullen groans, and doleful cries;
Heart-foft'ning plaints demand the pitying tear,
And peals of hideous laughter shock the ear.

Thus, when in some fair human form we find
T
The lufts all rampant, and the reason blind,
Griev'd we behold fuch beauty giv'n in vain,
And nature's faireft work furvey with pain.

Within the chambers which this dome contains, In all her frantic forms Distraction reigns, For when the sense from various objects brings, Through organs craz'd, the images of things; Ideas, all extravagant and vain,

In endless fwarms, crowd in upon the brain;
The cheated reafon true and falle confounds,
And forms her notions from fantastic grounds.
Then if the blood impetuous fwells the veins,
And choler in the conftitution reigns,
Outrageous fury ftrait inflames the foul,
Quick beats the pulfe, and fierce the eye-balls roll;
Rattling his chains, the wretch all raving lies,
And roars and foams, and earth and heaven defies.
Not fo, when gloomy the black bile prevails,
And lumpish phlegm the thicken'd mafs congeals
All lifeless then is the poor patient found,
And fits for ever moping on the ground;

His active pow'rs their uses all forego,

Nor fenfes, tongue, nor limbs, their function know; In melancholy loft, the vital flame

Informs, and just informs the listless frame.

If brifk the circulating tides advance,

And nimble fpirits through the fibres dance,
Then all the images delightful rife,

The tickled fancy fparkles through the eyes. 11
The mortal, all to mirth and joy refign'd,
In ev'ry gefture fhews his freakish mind

Frolic and free, he laughs at fortune's pow'r,
And plays a thousand gambols in an hour.

Now ent'ring in, my Mufe, thy theme purfue, And all the dome, and each apartment view.

Within this lonely lodge, in folemn port,
A fhiv'ring monarch keeps his awful court;
And far and wide, as boundless thought can stray,
Extends a vaft imaginary sway.

Utopian princes bow before his throne,
Lands unexisting his dominion own,

And airy realms, and regions in the moon.
The pride of dignity, the pomp of state,
The darling glories of the envy'd great,
Rife to his view, and in his fancy fwell,
And guards and courtiers crowd his empty cell.
See how he walks majestic through the throng;
(Behind he trails his tatter'd robes along)
And cheaply bleft, and innocently vain,
Enjoys the dear delufion of his brain,
In this small spot expatiates unconfin'd,
Supreme of monarchs, firft of human kind.

Such joyful extafy as this poffeft,

M

On fome triumphal day, great Cæfar's breaft; Great Cæfar, fcarce beneath the gods ador'd, The world's proud victor, Rome's imperial lord,