I've a mighty part within That the world hath never feen, Rich as Eden's happy ground, And with choicer plenty crown'd. Here, on all the fhining boughs, Knowledge fair and useful grows; On the fame young flow'ry tree, All the feafons you may see; Notions in the bloom of light, Juft difclofing to the fight:

Here are thoughts of larger growth,
Rip'ning into folid truth:

Fruits refined of noble taste;
Seraphs feed on fuch repast.

Here, in a green and shady grove,
Streams of pleasure mix with love:
There, beneath the fmiling fkies,
Hills of contemplation rise:
Now, upon fome fhining top,
Angels light, and call me up;
I rejoice to raise my feet,
Both rejoice when there we meet.

There are endless beauties more Earth hath no resemblance for; Nothing like them round the pole, Nothing can describe the foul;

'Tis a region half unknown,
That has treasures of its own,

More remote from public view
Than the bowels of peru;
Broader 'tis and brighter far
Than the golden Indies are:
Ships that trace the wat'ry ftage,,
Cannot coaft it in an age;

Harts or horfes, ftrong and fleet,
Had they wings to help their feet,

Could not run it half

way o'er In ten thousand days and more.

Yet the filly wand'ring mind, Loth to be too much confin'd, Roves and takes her daily tours, Coafting round the narrow shores, Narrow fhores of fiefh and fenfe, Picking fhells and pebbles thence: Or the fits at Fancy's door, Calling shapes and fhadows to her, Foreign vifits still receiving, And t' herself a stranger living. Never, never would the buy Indian duft or Tyrian dye, Never trade abroad for more If the faw her native ftore,

If her inward worth were known,
She might ever live alone..

DID fweeter founds adorn my flowing tongue,

Than ever man pronouc'd or angel fung;
Had I all knowledge, human and divine,
That thought can reach, or science can define;
And had I pow'r to give that knowledge birth,
In all the speeches of the babbling earth;
Did Shadrach's zeal my glowing breast inspire,
To weary tortures, and rejoice in fire;
Or had I faith like that which Israel faw,
When Mofes gave them miracles, and law:
Yet, gracious Charity, indulgent guest,
Were not thy pow'r exerted in my breaft;
Thofe fpeeches would send up unheeded pray❜r,
That scorn of life would be but wild despair;

A tymbal's found were better than my voice,
My faith were form, my eloquence were noise.
Charity, decent, modeft, eafy, kind,

Softens the high, and rears the abject mind!
Knows with juft reins and gentle hand to guide
Betwixt vile fhame, and arbitrary pride :
Not foon provok'd, fhe eafily forgives;
And much she suffers, as fhe much believes :
Soft peace the brings wherever the arrives;
She builds our quiet, as the forms our lives;
Lays, the rough paths of peevish nature even,
And opens in each heart a little heaven.

Each other gift, which GOD on man bestows,
Its proper bounds and due restriction knows;
To one fix'd purpose dedicates its power,
And finishing its act, exists no more.

Thus, in obedience to what Heav'n decrees,

Knowledge fhall fail, and prophecy shall cease:
But lafting Charity's more ample sway,

Nor bound by time, nor subject to decay,

In happy triumph shall for ever live,

And endless good diffufe, and endless praise re

ceive.

As through the artist's intervening glafs, Our eye perceives the diftant planets pass, A little we difcover; but allow

That more remains unfeen than art can fhew:

So whilft our mind its knowlege would improve, (Its feeble eye intent on things above)

High as we may, we lift our reafon up,
By faith directed, and confirm'd by Hope:
Yet we are able only to furvey

Dawnings of beams and promifes of day.
Heav'n's fuller effluence mocks our dazzled fight;
Too great its fwiftnefs, and too ftrong its light.
But foon the mediate clouds fhall be difpell'd;
The fun fhall foon be face to face beheld
In all his robes, with all his glory on,
Seated fublime on his meridian throne.

Then conftant Faith and holy Hope fhall die,
One loft in certainty, and one in joy:
Whilft thou, more happy pow'r, fair Charity,
Triumphant fifter, greatest of the three,

Thy office and thy nature ftill the fame,
Lafting thy lamp, and unconfum'd thy flame,
Shalt ftill furvive-------

Shalt ftand before the hoft of heaven confeft,
For ever bleffing, and for ever bleft.