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Full range, on just dillike's unbounded field; Grasping at air ! for what has earth beside ?
Years unexperienc'd rush on numerous ills;
And miss such numbers, numbers too of such, A time there is, when, like a thrice-told tale, Firmer in health, and greener in their age, Long rifled life of sweet can yield no more,
And strieter on their guard, and fitter far But from our comment on the comedy,
To play life's subtle game, I scarce believe Pleasing reflections on parts well-sustain'd, I still survive ; and am I fond of life, Or purpos'd emendations where we fail'd, Who scarce can think it pollible I live ? Or hopes of plaudits from our candid judge, Alive by miracle ! if still alive, When, on their exit, fouls are bid unrobe, Who long have bury'd what gives life to live, And drop this malk of Helh behind the scene. Firmness of nerve, and energy of thought.
With me, that time is come; my worl.l is dead: Life's lee is not more shallow, than impure, A new world rises, and new manners reign : And vapid ; sense and reafon thew the door, What a pert race starts up! the strangers gaze, Call for my bier, and point me to the duft. And I at them; my neighbour is unknown.
§ 206. Address to the Deity. © 204. Folly of Human Pursuits.
O THOU great arbiter of life and death! BLEST be that hand divine, which gently laid Nature's immortal, immaterial sun!
My heart at reft beneath this humble thed! Whose all-prolific beam late call'd me forth The world 's a stately bark, on dangerous seas, From darkness, teeming darkness, where I lay With pleasure seen, but boarded at our peril; The worm's inferior, and, in rank, beneath Here, on a single plank, thrown safe afhore, The dust I tread on, high to bear my brow, I hear the tumult of the distant throng,
To drink the spirit of the golden day, As that of feas remote, or dying storms; And triumph in existence, and couldnt know And meditate on scenes, more filent still; No motive, but my bliss; with Abraham's jos, Pursue my theme, and fight the fear of death. Thy call I follow to the land unknown; Here, like a thepherd, gazing from his hut, I trust in thee, and know in whom I trust; Touching his reed, or leaning on his staff, Or life, or death, is equal; neither weighs, Eager ambition's fiery chace I see;
All weight in this-0 let me live to thee! I see the circling hunt of noisy men Burst law's enclosure, leap the mounds of right, $ 207. Fears of Death extinguished by Man's Pursuing and pursued, each other's prey;
Rede mption. As wolves, for rapine ; as the fox, for wiles;
Но" Till death, that mighty hunter, earths them all. THO; nature's terrors, thus, may be represt ;
Still frowns grim death; guilt points the Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour ? What, tho' we wade in wealth, or foar in fame : Who can appeale its anguih ? how it burns!
tyrant's 1pear. Earth's highest station ends in “ here hé lies,'' And “ duit to dust” concludes her noblest long.
What hand the barb'd, enrenom'd, thought can
draw? If this song lives, posterity thall know
What healing hand can pour the balm of peace, One, tho' in Britain born, with courtiers bred, ho thought even gold might come a day too
And turn my right undaunted on the tomb ? late;
With joy,—with grief, that healing hand I see; Nor on his subtle death-bed plann'd his scheme
Ah ! too conspicuous ! it is fix'd on high! For future vacancies in church, or state;
On high?—What means my phrensy? I blafpheme;
Alas ! how low ! how far beneath the skies! Soine arocation dceming it to die ; Unbit by rage canine of dying rich;
The skies it form'd; and not it bleeds for me Guilt's blunder! and the loudest laugh of hell.
But bleeds the balm I want-yet still it bleeds :
sing ( 205. Folly of the Love of Life in the Aged.
What heart or can sustain? or dares forego ? 0 MY coevals! remnant of yourselves ! There hangs all human hope : that nail supports Poor human ruins, tort’ring o'er the grave ! Our falling universo : that gone, we drop ;
Thall aged men, like aged trees, Horror receives us, and the dismal with Strike deeper their vile root, and closer cling, Creation had been smother'd in her birth. Still more enamour'd of this wretched foil ? Darkness his curtain, and his bed the dust, Shall our pale, wither'd hands be still stretch'd ou:, When stars and sun are dust beneath his throne ! Trembling, at once, with eagerness and age ? In heaven itself can such indulgence dwell? With avarice, and convulsions grasping hard? what a groan was there ! A groan noi his,
He seiz'd our dreadful right, the load sustain'd, Heav'n's sovereign blessings clust'ring from the And heav'd the mountain from a guilty world.
cross, A thousand worlds so bought, were bought too Rush on her, in a throng, and close her round, Sensations now in angels' bofoms rise! [dear. The prisoner of amaze! - In his blest life, Suspend their song; and filence is in heaven. I fec'the path, and, in his death, the price,
O for their fong to reach my lofty theme ! And in his great ascent the proof supreme Inspire me, Night, with all thy tuneful fpheres! Of immortality. ~ And did he rise ? Much rather, Thou! who doft those spheres Hear, Oye nations! hear it, Oye dead ! inspire;
He rosc! he rose! he burft the bars of death,
Thou mort indulgent, mott tremendous, power! And give the king of glory to come in!
O'er guilt, (how mountainous!) with out. The ravenous foe, that gorg'd all human race ! Stern justice, and soft-Imiling lore, cinbrace, The king of glory, he, whose glory fillid Supporting, in full majesty, thy Throne,
Heaven with amazement at his love to man;
Powers moft illumin'd wilder'd in the theme. What, but the fathomlefs of thought divine The theme, the joy, how then shall man fustain? Could labour such expedient from despair, Oh the burst gates! crush'd sting! demolishid And rescuc both ? Both rescue! both cxalt!
[heaven, O how are both exalted by the deed!
Last galp! of vanquish'd death. Shout earth and A wonder in omnipotence itfulf!
This firm of good to man : whose nature, then, A mystery, no less to Gods than men!
Took wing, and mounted with him from the Not, thus, our infidels ti Eternal draw, Then, then, I rose; then first humanity [tomb! A God all o'er, consuminate, absolute,
Triumphant pafs'd the crystal ports of light, Full-orb’d, in his whole round of rays complete : And leiz'd eternal youth. Mortality They set at odds heaven's jarring attributes; Was then transferr'd to death; and heaven's duAnd with one excellence another wound; L'nalienably feal'd to this frail frame, [ration Maim heaven's perfcétion, break its equal beams, This child of dust. - Man, all-immortal! hail; Bid mercy triumph over-God bimtelf, Hail, heaven ! all lavish of strange gifts to man ! Undeify'd by their opprobrious praile;
Thine all the glory ; man's the boundless blus, A God all mercy, is a God unjust.
Where am I rapt by this triumphant theme,
And was the rantom paid ? It was: and paid ! 'Tis guilt alone can justify his death;
At that enormous load of human guilt, [crois; This, only this subdues the fear of death. [live :
[that inan “ Pardon for infinite offence ! and pardon What heart of stone but glows at thoughts like “ Thro' mcans that speak its value infinite! these?
“ A pardon bought with blood! with blood diSuch contemplations mount us; and should mount vine ! The mind fill higher; nor ever glance on man,
With blood divine of him I made my foe; Unraprur'd, unintlam'd- where roll my thoughts “ Perfisted to provoke ! tho' wood, and aw'd, To rest from wonders ? How my soul is caught Bleft, and chastis'd, a flagrant rebel till!
* A rebel
fall a tear ;
" A rebel 'midst the thunders of his throne ! My voice (if tun'd); the nerve, that writes, suf-
Bound every heart ! and every bosom burn! His effence; local is his throne (as meet),
To gather the disperst, to fix a point,
The great first last! pavilion’d high he fits And all her spicy mountains in a flame, In dark nefs, from exceflive splendour born,
His glory, to created glory, bright $ 209. Praise, bestowed on Men, due to Heaven. As that, to central horrors; he looks down courts and thrones return, apostate
On all that foars; and Ipans immensity. praise ! Thou prostitute! to thy first love return,
$ 211. Inability of lithiciently praising God. Thy first, thy greatett, once, unrivall’d theme. DOWN
OWN to the centre should I send my thought, Back to thy fountain ; to that parent power,
Thro’ beds of glittering ore, and glowing Who gives the tongue to sound, the thought to
Their beggar'd blaze wants lustre for my lay; The soul to be. Men homage pay to men,
Goes out in darknets: if, on tow'ring wing, Thoughtless beneath whofe dreadful eye they bow, The stars, tho' rich, what dross their gold to thee,
I send it thro' the boundless vault of stars ;
Great! good! wile! wonderful! cternal King? Great fire! whom thrones celestial ceafeicts ling. If of thote conscious ftars tlıy throne around, Oh the presumption, of man's awe for man!
Praise cver-pouring, and imbibing bliss, Man's author! end ! restorer! law! and judge!
I ask their strain; they want it, more they want; Thine, all; day thine, and thine this glooin of Languid their energy, their ardour cold, night;
Indebted still, their highest rapture burns; With all her wealth, with all her radiant worlds: Short of its mark, defective, tho' divine. What night eternal, but a frown from thec?
Still more-This theme is man's, and man's
On earth a bounty, not indulg'd on high;
Firit-born of æther! high in fields of light!
My soul in praise to him, who gave my soul, How role in melody, the child of love ! And all her infinite of prospect fair,
Creation's great superior, man! is thine ; Cut thro' the shades of hell, great love! by thee! Thinc is redemption ; eternize the song ! Where hall that praise begin, which ne'er should Redemption ! 'twas creation more sublime; end?
Redemption ! 'twas the labour of the skies; Where'er I turn, what claim on all applause ! Far more than labour-It was death in heaven... How is night's sable mantle labour'd o'er, Here pause, and ponder: was there death in How richly wrought, with attributes divine !
[blow? What wisdom shines! what love! This midnight What then on earth? on earth which struck the pomp,
Who ftruck it? Who?- how is man enlarg’d, This gorgeous arch, with golden worlds inlay'd, Seen thro’ this medium! How the pigmy tow'rs? Ruilt with divine ambition ! nought to thee : How counterpois'd his origin frem dust! For others this profusion; thou apart,
How counterpois'd, to dust his lad return! Above, beyond l oh tell me, mighty mind, How voided his vast distance from the ikies! Where art thou ? shall I dive into the deep? How near he presses on the seraph's wing! Call to the sun, or ask the roaring winds, How this demonstrates, thro' the thickest cloud For their creator? shall I question loud Of guilt, and clay condens'd, the fon of heaven! The thunder, if in that th'almighty dwells ? The double fon; the made, and the re-made ! Or holds he furious storms in strcigthen'd reins, And shall heaven's double property be loft ? And bids fierce whirlwinds whcel his rapid car? Man's double madness only can destroy him, What mean these questions ?-treinbling I To man the bleeding cross has promis'd all; retract;
The bleeding cross has fivorn eternal grace : My proftrate foul adores the present Gol: Who gave his life, what grace shall he deny? Praise I a diftant deity ? He tunes
Oye, who from this Rock of ages Icap
Dildainful, plunging headlong in the abyss ! His wrath inflam'd? his tenderness on fire ? What cordial joy, what confolation strong, Can prayer, can praise avert it ?--Thou, my all! Whatever winds arise, or billows roll,
My theme! my inspiration! and my crown! Our interest in the master of the storm ! My strength in age! my rise in low cftate! Cling there, and in wreck’d nature's ruins smile; My soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth!-my world! While vile apoftates tremble in a calm. My light in darkness! and my life in death!
My boast thro' time! bliss thro' eternity !
Eternity too short to speak thy praise,
Or fathom thy profound of love to man! MAN! know thyself; a!! wisdom centres there.
To none man secms ignoble, but to man;
God's Love to Man,
HOW omnipotence is loft in love!
Father of angels! but the friend of man! The beam dim reason sheds lhews wonders there; Thou, who didst lave him, snatch the finoking What high contents ! illustrious faculties !
brand But the grand comment which displays at full From out the flames, and quench it in thy blood I Our human height, scarce sever'd from divine, How art thou pleas'd, by bounty to distress ! By Heaven compos'd, was publith'd on the cross! To make us groan beneath our gratitude,
Who looks on that, and sees not in hiinself To challenge, and to distance, all return! An awful stranger, a terrestrial God?
Of lavish love stupendous heights to foar, A glorious partner with the Deity
And leave praise panting in the distant vale ! In that high attribute, immortal life!
But since the naked will obtains thy smile, ] gaze, and as I gaze, my mounting foul Beneath this monument of praise unpaid, Catches strange fire, eternity! at thee.
For ever lie intomb'd my fear of death, He, the great father! kindled at one flame And dread of ev'ry evil, but thy frown. The world of rationals; one fpirit pour'd
Oḥ for an humbler hcart, and loftier song! Froni fpirit's awful fountain ; pour d himself Thou, my much-injur'd there! with that loft eye Thro' all their souls; but not in equal stream : Which nielted o'er doom'd Salem, deign to look Profuse, or frugal of th' inspiring God, Compaflion to the coldness of my brcalt ; As his wise plan demanded; and when past And paidon to the winter in Their various trials, in their various spheres, If they continue rational, as made, Relorbs them all into himself again ;
$ 215. Lukewarm Devotion. His throne their centre, and his fiile their crown.
cold-hearted, frozen, formalifts ! Why doubt we, then, the glorious truth to fing? On such a theme 'tis iinpious to be calm ; Angels are men of a superior kind;
Shall Heaven, which gave us ardour, and has Angels are men in lighter habit clad,
Its own for man so strongly, not disdain [thewa High o'er celestial mountains wing'd in fight : What smouth emollients in theology, And men are angels, loaded for an hour, Recumbent virtue's downy doctors preachi, Who wade this miry vale, and climb with pain, That profe of picty, a lukewarm praise ? And Nippery step, the bottom of the steep: Rise odours sweet from incense unintiam'd? Yet summond to the glorious standard ioon, Devotion, when lukewarm, is undevout. Which flames eternal crimfon thro' the skies,
§ 216. Death, where is thy Sting? $ 213. Religion.
OH when will death (now singless), like a RELIGION's all. Descending from its fire
friend, To wretched man, the Goddess in her left Admit me of that choir ? Oh when will death, Tolds out this world, and in her right, the next: This mould'ring, old, partition-wallthrown down, Religion ! the fole voucher man is man; Give beings, one in nature, one abode ? Supporter fole of man above himfelf.
Oh death divine! that gives us to the skies, Religion ! providence; an after-state ! Great future! glorious patron of the past, Here is firm footing; here is folid rock, And present, when thall I thy ihrinę adore ? This can support us; all is sea besides; From Nature's continent, immensely wide, Sinks under us; bestorins, and then derours. Immensely blest, this little isle of life His hand the good man faftens on the skies, Di: ides us. Happy day, that breaks our chain; And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl. That re-admits us, thro’ the guardian hand
Rcligion ! thou the soul of happiness ; Of elder brothers, to our Father's throne; And groaning Calvary of thee! There line Who hears our Advocate, and thro' his wounds The nobleft truths; there strongest motives sting! Bcholding man, allows that tender name. Can love allure us? or can terror awe? 'Tis this makes Christian triumph, a command ; He weeps!--the falling drop puts out the fun ; 'Tis this makeş joy a duty to the wise, He fi!is!--the figh, carth's deep foundation Hast thou ne'er feen the comet's flaming fight? If, in his love, so terrible, what then [thakes. Th' illustrious ftranger paffing, terror theds
On gazing nations, from his fiery train They draw Pride's curtain o'er the noon-tide ray,
And is there, who the blefied cross wipes off $ 217. Faitb enforced by our Reafon. As a foul blot from his dishonour'd brow?
If angels tremble, 'tis at such a sight: NATURE is dumb on this important point : Or hope precarious in low whisper breathes : More truck with grief or wonder, who can tell?
The wretch they quit,defpondiag of their charge, Faith speaks aloud, diftinét; eren adders hear, But turn, and dart into the dark again. Faith builds a bridge across the gulph of death,
§ 219. Tbe mere Man of the World. To break the shock blind nature cannot fhun,
YE E fold to fenfe, ye citizens of earth, And lands thought smoothly on the farther fhore. (For such alone the Christian banner fly) Death's terror is the mountain Faith removes; Know ye how wise your choice, how great your That mountain-barrier between man and peace :
gain? 'Tis Faith difarms destruction ; and absolves Behold the picture of earth's happiest man : From ev'ry clamorous charge the guillefs tomb. • He calls his with, it comes; he sends it back, Why shouldst thou difbelieve !''tis Reason" And lays, he call'd another; that arrives, bids,
“ Meets the fame welcome; yet he fill calls on, " All sacred Reason."-Hold her facred still; “ Till one calls him, who varies not his call, Nor shalt thou want a rival in thy fame. “ But holds him fast, in chains of darkness bound, Reason! my heart is thine: Deep in its folds, “ Till nature dies, and judgment sets him free: Live thou with life; live dearer of the two. “ A freedom, far less welcome than his chain." My reason rebaptis'd me, when adult;
But grant man happy; grant him happy long; Weigh'd true and falle in her impartial scale; Add to lite's highest prize her latest hour; And made that choice, which once was but my That hour fo late, comes on in full career : fate.
How swift the shuttlc Alies, that weaves thy Reason pursued is faith: and unpursu'd
Throud! Where proof invites, 'ris reason then no more;
Where is the fable of thy former years? And such our proof, that, or our faith is right, Thrown down the gulph of time; as far from thee Or Reason lies, and Heaven design'd it wrong:
As they had ne'er been thine ; the day in hand, Abfolve we this? What then is blasphemy?
Like a bird struggling to get loose, is going; Fond as we are, and justly fond of faith, Scarce now poffest, so suddenly 'tis gone; Realon, we grant, demands our first regard, And each sivift moment fled, is death advanc'd The inother honour'd, as the daughter dear; By strides as swift : Eternity is all; Realon the root, fair Faith is but the fow'r : And whose eternity? Who triumphs there? The fading flower shall die; but Reason lives Bathing for ever in the font of bliss ? Immortal, as her father in the skies.
For ever balking in the deity! Wrong 'not the Christian, think not reason yours: Conscience reply, O give it leave to speak; 'Tis Reason our great Master holds fo dcar;
For it will speak ere long.
O hear it now, 'Tis Reason's injur'd rights his wrath resents. While useful its advice, its accent mild. Believe, and thew the reason of a man ; Truth is deposited with man's last hour; Believe, and taste the pleasure of a God; An honest hour, and faithful to her trust, Believe, and look with triumph on the tomb : Truth, cldest daughter of the Deity ; Thro’ Reason's wounds alone, thy faith can dic; Truth, of his council when he made the worlds, Which dying, tenfold terror gives to Death,
Nor less when he shall judge the worlds he made, And dips in venom his twice-mortal sting. Tho' silent long, and Necping ne'er so found,
Than from her cavern in the soul's abyss, § 218. False Pbilosopby.
The Goddess bursts in thunder and in Hame.
“ Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die." LEARN hence what honours duc to those who Our antidote aside; those friends to reason,
$ 220. NIGHT V. Darkness. Whose fatal love ftahs every joy, and leaves LET Indians, and the gay, like Indians, fond Death's terror heighten’d gnawing on his heart. Of feather'd fopperies, the sun adore : Those pompous fons of reaton idoliz'd, Darkness has more divinity for mo: And vilify'd at once; of reason dead,
It strikes thought inward, it drives back the foul Then deified, as monarchs were of old. To settle on herself, our point supreme ! While love of truth thro' all their camp resounds, Thcre lies our theatre; there sits our judge.