To work by twilight were to work too late,

And

age

is twilight to the night of fate.

To will alone, is but to mean delay,

To work at present, is the use of day,

For man's employ much thought and deed remain,
High thoughts the foul, hard deeds the body strain,
And mysteries ask believing, which to view,
Like the fair fun, are plain, but dazzling too.

Be Truth, so found, with facred heed possest,
Not kings have power to tear it from thy breast.
By no blank charters harm they where they hate,
Nor are they vicars, but the hands of fate.
Ah! fool and wretch, who lett'ft thy foul be ty'd
To human laws! or muft it fo be try'd?
Or will it boot thee, at the latest day,
When Judgment fits, and Juftice asks thy plea,
That Philip that, or Gregory taught thee this,
Or John or Martin? All may teach amifs :
For every contrary in each extreme

This holds alike, and each may plead the fame.
Wouldst thou to power a proper duty shew?
'Tis thy first task the bounds of power to know;
The bounds once paft, it holds the same no more,
Its nature alters, which it own'd before,

Nor were fubmiffion humblenefs expreft,
But all a low idolatry at beft.

Power from above, fubordinately spread,

Streams like a fountain from th' eternal head;
There, calm and pure, the living waters flow,
But roars a torrent or a flood below,

Each flower ordain'd the margins to adorn,
Each native beauty, from its roots is torn,
And left on deserts, rocks and fands, are toft,
All the long travel, and in ocean loft.

So fares the foul, which more that power reveres,.
Man claims from God, than what in God inheres.

THE

GIFT OF POETRY.

ROM realms of never-interrupted peace,

FR

From thy fair ftation near the throne of Grace,

From choirs of angels, joys in endless round,
And endless harmony's enchanting found,
Charm'd with a zeal the Maker's praife to fhew,
Bright Gift of Verse descend, and here below
My ravish'd heart with rais'd affection fill,
And warbling o'er the foul incline my will.
Among thy pomp, let rich expreffion wait,
Let ranging numbers form thy train compleat,
While at thy motions over all the sky
Sweet founds, and echoes fweet, refounding fly
And where thy feet with gliding beauty tread,
Let Fancy's flowery fpring erect its head.

It comes, it comes, with unaccuftom'd light,
The tracts of airy thought grow wondrous bright,
Its notions ancient Memory reviews,

And young Invention new defigns pursues.
To fome attempt my will and wishes prefs,
And pleasure, rais'd in hope, førebodes success.
My God, from whom proceed the gifts divine,
My God! I think I feel the gift is thine.

Be

Be this no vain illufion which I find,
Nor nature's impulfe on the paffive mind,
But reafon's act, produc'd by good desire,
By grace enliven'd with Celestial Fire;
While base conceits, like mifty fons of night,
Before fuch beams of glory take their flight,
And frail affections, born of earth, decay,
Like weeds that wither in the warmer ray.

I thank thee, Father! with a grateful mind:
Man 's undeferving, and thy Mercy kind.
I now perceive, I long to fing thy praise,
I now perceive, I long to find my lays
The sweet incentives of another's love,
And fure fuch longings have their rife above.
My resolution stands confirm'd within,
My lines afpiring eagerly begin;

Begin, my lines, to fuch a subject due,

That aids our labours, and rewards them too!
Begin, while Canaan opens to mine eyes,
Where fouls and fongs, divinely form'd, arife.
As one whom o'er the sweetly vary'd meads
Intire recefs and lonely pleasure leads,

To verdur'd banks, to paths adorn'd with flowers,
To fhady trees, to clofely-waving bowers,
To bubbling fountains, and aside the stream
That foftly gliding fooths a waking dream,
Or bears the thought infpir'd with heat along,
And with fair images improves a fong;
Through facred anthems, fo may fancy ranges
So fill from beauty, ftill to beauty change,

То

To feel delights in 'all the radiant way,
And, with sweet numbers, what it feels repay.
For this I call that ancient Time appear,
And bring his rolls to ferve in method here;
His rolls which acts, that endless honour claim,
Have rank'd in order for the voice of fame.

My call is favour'd: Time from first to laft
Unwinds his years, the prefent fees the past;
I view their circles as he turns them o'er,
And fix my footsteps where he went before.

The page unfolding would a top disclose,
Where founds melodious in their birth arofe.
Where firft the Morning-ftars together fung,
Where firft their harps the Sons of Glory ftrung,
With fhouts of joy while Hallelujahs rise
To prove the chorus of eternal skies.

Rich sparkling ftrokes the letters doubly gild,
And all 's with love and admiration fill'd.

MOSES.

ΤΟ grace thofe lines, which next appear to fight,

The pencil fhone, with more abated light;
Yet ftill the pencil fhone, the lines were fair,
And awful Mofes ftands recorded there;
Let his, replete with flames and praise divine,
Let his, the first-remember'd song be mine,
Then rife my thought, and in thy prophet find
What joy fhould warm thee, for the work defign'd.

To

To that great, act, which rais'd his heart, repair,
And find a portion of his spirit there.

grave,

A Nation helpless and unarm'd I view,
Whom ftrong revengeful troops of war pursue,
Seas ftop their flight, their camp muft prove their
Ah! what can fave them? God alone can fave.
God's wondrous voice proclaims his high command,
He bids their leader wave the facred wand,
And where the billows flow'd, they flow no more,
A road lies naked, and they march it o'er.
Safe may the fons of Jacob travel through,
But why will hard'ned Egypt venture too ?
Vain in thy rage, to think thofe waters flee
And rife like walls, on either hand, for thee.
The night comes on, the feafon for surprize,
Yet fear not, Ifrael, God directs thine eyes.
A fiery cloud I see thine angel ride,

His chariot is thy light, and he thy guide.
The day comes on, and half thy fuccours fail,,
Yet fear not, Ifrael, God will fill prevail.
I fee thine angel from before thee go,
To make the wheels of venturous Egypt flow,
His rolling cloud inwraps its beams of light,
And what fupply'd thy day, prolongs their night..
At length the dangers of the deep are run,
The further brink is paft, the bank is won;
The leader turns to view the foes behind,
Then waves his folemn wand within the wind,
Oh Nation freed by wonders, ceafe thy fear,
And ftand, and fee the Lord's Salvation here.

Yo