Nor refts fhe here her providence, but nips With fubtle tooth the grain, left from her garner In mifchievous fertility it steal,
And back to day-light vegetate its way. Go to the Ant, thou fluggard, learn to live, And by her wary ways reform thine own. But if thy deaden'd fenfe, and liftlefs thought, More glaring evidence demand; behold, Where yon pellucid populous hive prefents A yet uncopied model to the world! There Machiavel in the reflecting glafs May read himself a fool. The chemift there May with aftonifhment invidious view His toils outdone by each plebeian bee, Who, at the royal mandate, on the wing, From various herbs, and from difcordant flowers, A perfect harmony of fweets compounds.
Avaunt, Conceit! Ambition, take thy flight Back to the Prince of vanity and air! O! 'tis a thought of energy moft piercing; [force Form'd to make Pride grow humble; form'd to Its weight on the reluctant mind, and give her A true but irksome image of herself. Woeful viciffitude! when man, fallen man, Who first from Heav'n, from gracious God humfelf Learn'd knowledge of the brutes, must know, by brutes
Inftructed and reproach'd, the fcale of being; By flow degrees from lowly fteps afcend, And trace Omnifcience upwards to its fpring! Yet murmur not, but praife-for tho' we stand Of many a godlike privilege amerc'd By Adam's dire tranfgreffion; tho' no more Is Paradife our home, but o'er the portal Hangs in terrific pomp the burning blade; Still with ten thoufand beauties blooms the earth, With pleasures populous, and with riches crown'd. Still is there fcope for wonder and for love Ev'n to their laft exertion-fhowers of bleffings Far more than human virtue can deserve, Or hope expect, or gratitude return. Then, O ye people, O ye fons of men, Whatever be the colour of your lives, Whatever portion of itself his Wifdom Shall deign t' allow, ftill patiently abide, And praife him more and more; nor ceafe to chant "All glory to th' Omnifcient, and praife, "And pow'r, and domination in the height! "And thou, cherubic Gratitude, whofe voice "To pious ears founds filverly fo fweet, "Come with thy precious incenfe, bring thy gifts. "And with thy choiceft ftores the altar crown.'
'Tis thy terrific voice; all nature hears it, Awaken'd and alarm'd; the feels its force; In every spring the feels it, every wheel, And every movement of her vaft machine. Behold! quakes Apennine; behold! recoils Athos; and all the hoary-headed Alps Leap from their bafes at the god-like found. But what is this, celeftial tho' the note, And proclamation of the reign fupreme, Compar'd with fuch as, for a mortal car Too great, amaze the incorporeal worlds? Should Ocean to his congregated waves Call in each river, cataract, and lake, And with the wat`ry world down a huge rock Fall headlong in one horrible cascade, Twere but the echo of the parting breeze, When zephyr faints upon the lily's breast; Twere but the ceafing of some instrument, When the laft lingering undulation Dies on the doubting ear, if nam'd with sounds So mighty! fo ftupendous! fo divine!
But not alone in the aerial vault Does He the dread theocracy maintain; For oft, enrag'd with his inteftine thunders, He harrows up the bowels of the earth, And fhocks the central magnet-Cities then Totter on their foundations, ftately columns, Magnific walls, and heaven-affaulting fpires. What tho' in haughty eminence erect Stands the ftrong citadel, and frowns defiance On adverfe hofts; tho' many a bastion jut Forth from the rampart's elevated mound; Vain the poor providence of human art, And mortal ftrength how vain! while underneath Triumphs his mining vengeance in th' uproar Of thatter'd towers, riven rocks, and mountains, With clamour inconceivable uptorn, And hurl'd adown th' abyfs. Sulphureous pyrites Bursting abrupt from darkness into day, With din outrageous and deftructive ire, Augment the hideous tumult, while it wounds Th' afflictive car, and terrifies the eye, And rends the heart in twain. Twice have we felt, Within Augufta's walls twice have we felt, Thy threaten'd indignation : but even Thou, Incens'd Omnipotent, art gracious ever; Thy goodnefs infinite but mildly warn'd us, With mercy-blended wrath; O fpare us ftill, Nor fend more dire conviction We confefs That thou art He, th' Almighty: we believe. For at thy righteous power whole fystems quake; For at thy nod tremble ten thousand worlds.
Hark! on the winged whirlwind's rapid rage, Which is and is not in a moment-hark! Invincible, and oaks, and pines, and cedars, On th' hurricane's tempeftuous fweep he rides And forefts are no more. For, conflict dreadful! The Weft encounters Eaft, and Notus meets In his career the Hyperborean blaft. The lordly lions fhuddering feek their dens, And fly like timorous deer; the king of birds, Who dar'd the folar ray, is weak of wing, And faints, and falls, and dies;-while He fupreme Stands ftedfaft in the centre of the ftorm. Wherefore, ye objects terrible and great,
Ye thunders, earthquakes, and ye fire-fraught Of fell volcanos, whirlwinds, hurricanes, [wombs And boiling billows, hail! in chorus join To celebrate and magnify your Maker, Who yet in works of a minuter mould Is not lefs manifeft, is not lefs mighty. Survey the magnet's fympathetic love, That woos the yielding needle; contemplate Th' attractive amber's power, invisible
Ev'n to the mental eye; or when the blow Sent from th' electric fphere affaults thy frame, Shew me the hand that dealt it !-Baffled here By his Omnipotence, Philosophy Slowly her thoughts inadequate revolves, And ftands, with all his circling wonders round her, Like heavy Saturn in th' ethereal space Begirt with an inexplicable ring.
If fuch the operations of his power, Which at all feafons and in every place (Rul'd by eftablith'd laws and current nature) Arreft th' attention; who, oh who fhall tell His acts miraculous? when his own decrees Repeals he, or fufpends; when by the hand Of Mofes or of Joshua, or the mouths Of his prophetic feers, fuch deeds he wrought, Before th' aftonith'd fun's all-feeing eye, That faith was fcarce a virtue. Need I fing The fate of Pharaoh and his numerous band Loft in the reflux of the wat'ry walls, That melted to their fluid ftate again? Need I recount how Sampion's warlike arm With more than mortal nerves was ftrung, t'o'er- Idolatrous Philiftia? Shall I tell throw How David triumph'd, and what Job fuftain'd -But, O fupreme, unutterable mercy! O love unequall'd, mystery immense, Which angels long t'unfold 'tis man's redemption That crowns thy glory, and thy power confirms; Confirms the great, th' uncontroverted claim. When from the Virgin's unpolluted womb Shone forth the Sun of Righteoufnefs reveal'd, And on benighted reafon pour'd the day; "Let there be peace!" he said, and all was calm Amongst the warring world-calm as the fea When," O be still, ye boisterous winds !" he cried,
And not a breath was blown, nor murmur heard. His was a life of miracles and might, And charity and love, ere yet he taste The bitter draught of death, ere yet he rife Victorious o'er the univerfal foe,
And death, and fin, and hell in triumph lead. His by the right of conqueft is mankind, And in sweet fervitude and golden bonds Were tied to him for ever.-O how eafy Is his ungalling yoke, and all his burdens 'Tis ecftafy to bear! Him, bleffed Shepherd! His flocks fhall follow thro' the maze of life, And fhades that tend to day-spring from on high; And as the radiant rofes, after fading, In fuller foliage and more fragrant breath Revive in fmiling fpring, fo fhall it fare
With thofe that love him-for fweet is their fa- And all Eternity fhall be their fpring. [vour, Then fhall the gates and everlafting doors, At which the King of Glory enters in, [fure Be to the faints unbarr'd: and there, where plea- Boafts an undying bloom, where dubious hope Is certainty, and grief-attended love Is freed from paflion-there we 'll celebrate, With worthier numbers, Him who is, and was, And, in immortal prowefs King of kings, Shall be the monarch of all worlds for ever.
Ifrael's fweet Pfalmift, who alone couldft wake Th' inanimate to motion; who alone The joyful hillocks, the applauding rocks, And floods, with mufical perfuafion drew; Thou, who to hailand fnow gav ft voice and found, And mad'ft the mute melodious !—greater yet Was thy divineft fkill, and rul'd o'er more Than art and nature; for thy tuneful touch Drove trembling Satan from the heart of Saul, And quell'd the evil Angel :-in this breast Some portion of thy genuine fpirit breathe, And lift me from myfelf; each thought impure Banish; each low idea raife, refine, Enlarge, and fanctify;-fo fhall the Mufe Above the stars afpire, and aim to praise Her God on earth as he is prais'd in heaven.
Immenfe Creator! whofe all-powerful hand Fram'd univerfal being, and whofe eye Saw, like thy felf, that all things form'd were good; Where fhall the timorous Bard thy praife begin, Where end the pureft facrifice of fong, And juft thanksgiving-The thought-kindling Thy prime production, darts upon my mind Its vivifying beams, my heart illumines, And fills my foul with gratitude and Thee. Hail to the cheerful rays of ruddy morn, That paint the freaky Eaft, and blithsome roufe The birds, the cattle, and mankind from rest! Hail to the freshnefs of the early breeze, And Iris dancing on the new-fall'n dew! Without the aid of yonder golden globe, Loft were the garnet's luftre, loft the lily, The tulip and auricula's fpotted pride; Loft were the peacock's plumage, to the fight So pleafing in its pomp and gloffy glow. O thrice-illuftrious! were it not for Thee, Thofe panfies, that reclining from the bark View thro' th' immaculate pellucid ftream Their portraiture in the inverted heaven, Might as well change their triple boast, the white, The purple, and the gold, that far outvie The Eastern monarch's garb, ev'n with the dock, Ev'n with the baleful hemlock's irkfome reen. Without thy aid, without thy gladfome beams, The tribes of woodland warblers would remain
* See this conjecture strongly supported by Delany, in his Life of David. D 3
Mute on the bending branches, nor recite The praife of Him, who, ere he form'd their lord, Their voices tun'd to transport, wing'd their flight,
More than the plenteoufnefs fo fam'd to flow | By fabling bards from Amalthea's horn Is thine; thine therefore be a portion due [crown Of thanks and praife: come with thy brilliant And veft of fur; and from thy fragrant lap Pomegranates and the rich ananas pour. But chiefly thou, Europa, feat of Grace And Chriftian excellence, his Goodness own, Forth from ten thoufand temples pour his praife, Clad in the armour of the living God, Approach, unsheath the Spirit's flaming fword; Faith's fhield, falvation's glory-compais'd helm With fortitude affume, and o'er your heart Fair Truth's invulnerable breaft-plate spread; | Then join the general chorus of all worlds, And let the tong of Charity begin In ftrains feraphic, and melodious prayer: "O all-fufficient, all-beneficent,
"Thou God of Goodness and of Glory, hear! Thou, who to loweft minds doft condescend, "Affuming paffions to enforce thy laws, "Adopting jealousy to prove thy love : "Thou, who refign'd humility uphold'st, "Ev'n as the fiorift props the drooping rofe, "But quell'it tyrannic pride with peerless power, "Ev'n as the tempest rives the stubborn oak : "O all-fufficient, all-beneficent, "Thou God of Goodness and of Glory, hear! "Blefs all mankind; and bring them in the end "To heav'n, to inmortality, and Thee !"
And bade them call for nurture, and receive: And lo! they call; the blackbird and the thrush, The woodlark and the redbrcaft, jointly call; He hears, and feeds their feather'd families; He feeds his fweet musicians,-nor neglects Th' invoking ravens in the greenwood wide; And tho' their throats coarfe rattling hurt the ear, They mean it all for mufic, thanks and praife They mean, and leave ingratitude to mau :-- But not to all-for, hark! the organs blow Their fwelling notes round the cathedral's dome, And grace the harmonious choir, celeftial feaft To pious ears, and med'cine of the mind! The thrilling trebles and the manly base Join in accordance meet, and with one voice All to the facred fubject fuit their fong. While in each breaft fweet melancholy reigns Angelically penfive, till the joy Improves and purifies; the folemn fcene The Sun thro' ftoried panes furveys with awe, And bathfully withholds each bolder beam. Here, as her home, from morn to eve frequents The cherub Gratitude; behold her eyes! With love and gladnefs weepingly they thed Ecftatic fmiles; the incenfc, that her hands Uprear, is fweeter than the breath of May Caught from the nectarine's bloffom, and her voice Is more than voice can tell; to Him the fings, To Him who feeds, who clothes, and who adorns, Who made, and who preferves, whatever dwells In air, in ftedfaft earth, or fickle fea. O He is good, He is immenfely good! [man; Who all things form'd, and form'd them all for Who mark'd the climates, varied every zone, Difpenfing all his bleffings for the best, In order and in beauty-rife, attend, Atteft, and praife, ye quarters of the world! Bow down, ye elephants, fubmiffive bow To Him who made the mite! Tho', Afia's pride, Ye carry armies on your tower-crown'd backs, And grace the turban'd tyrants, bow to Him Who is as great, as perfect, and as good In his lefs ftriking wonders, till at length The cye 's at fault, and fecks th' affifting glafs. Approach, and bring from Araby the Blett The fragrant caffia, frankincenfe, and myrrh, And, meekly kneeling at the altar's foot, Lay all the tributary incenfe down. Stoop, feeble Africa, with reverence ftoop, And from thy brow take off the painted plume; With golden ingots all thy camels load T' adorn his temples; haften with thy fpear Reverted, and thy trufty bow unftrung, While unpurfued thy lions roam and roar, And ruin'd towers, rude rocks, and caverns wide Re-murmur to the glorious, furly found. And thou, fair Indian, whofe immenfe domain To counterpoife the hemifphere extends, [ers, Hafte from the Weft, and with thy fruits and flow-To fhun the fruitlefs with of fools,
46. Ode to Wisdom. Mifs CARTER. THE folitary bird of night
Thy mines and med'cines, wealthy maid, attend.
Thro' the pale fhades now wings his flight, And quits the time-fhook tow'r, Where, fhelter'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 pleasure and furprize; To thy unspotted fhrine I bow, Affift thy modeft fuppliant's vow, That breathes no wild defires: But, taught by thy unerring rules
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 envied toys divide, The dull rewards of care. To me thy better gifts impart, Each moral beauty of the heart, By ftudious thought refin'd:
For wealth, the fmiles of glad content; For pow'r, its ampleft, best extent, An empire o'er my mind.
When Fortune drops her gay parade, When pleafure's tranfient roles fade, And wither in the tomb, Lachang'd is thy immortal prize, Thy ever-verdant laurels rife In undecaying bloom.
By thee protected, I defy
The coxcomb's fneer, the ftupid lye Of ignorance and spite; Alike contemn the leaden 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 dreit. He bid Ilyus' tuneful ftream Convey the philofophic theme
Of perfect, fair, and good: Attentive Athens caught the found, And all her lift'ning fons around
In awful filence food. Reclaim'd, her wild licentious youth Confefs'd the potent voice of truth, And felt its juft 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 unbiats'd tongue, The hero's gen'rous strife: Thine are retirement's filent joys, And all the sweet endearing ties Of ftill, domeftic 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 source Of intellectual light! Ofend her fure, her fteady ray To regulate my doubtful way, Thro' life's perplexing road; The mists of error to controul; And thro' its gloom direct my faul To happiness and good!
Beneath her clear difcerning eye The vifionary fhadows fly
Of folly's painted show: She fees, thro' ev'ry fair disguise, That all but Virtue's folid joys Is vanity and woe.
§ 47. On buman Life.
BY Time's flow-heaving tide, the works of man Are whelm'd; how finks beneath his wasteful fway
The pride of empire! Glittering for a while, The gilded veffels fport along the ftream, Fann'd with propitious gales: the fides are firm, The hull capacious, and the fwelling fails Float to the breeze of fummer. Ah! how foon, Torn by the tempeft's wildly-rushing wing, And foundering on the deep it lies deform'd, A fhatter'd wreck! Nor lefs on life defcends The form impetuous; let thy filver hairs, Time-hallow'd age, be witnefs! the dim eye, The tottering tread, the furrow'd cheek, the hand Yet trembling from the blaft. Tell, ye who tend The bed of death, how o'er the helpless race Of human victims ftrides the harpy foot Of Mifery triumphant! while the veins Shrink to the Fever's fcorching breath, or feel, Starting, the fiery dart of racking Pain, That writhes to agony; or loofen'd fhake Before Confumption; when her baleful spunge Drops its green poifon on the fprings of life.
Nor thefe alone purfue the race of man. Far other ills await; far other woes Like vultures revel on his canker'd heart.
O ye who nightly languish o'er the tomb, Where fleeps thy duft, Eugenio! Ye whofe hearts O'er Virtue bleed, when, reeking from the fcourge Of dire Oppreffion, in forme lonely cave
She pines all defolate-Ye powers that haunt The vale where Genius breathes her plaint alone, Wild to the whiftling wind; her voice unheard, As airs that warble o'er the murmuring dale Remote, to Solitude's inchanting ear!
O tell, why wrapt in Grandeur's floating robe Vice mounts her throne! while, treinbling at the
Were feen innumerable fhapes, whofe wings Wav'd on the wind, or o'er the glittering field Who trod in filence. Care with lowering brow Slow ftalk'd; and Slander, fpeckled as the fnake That ftings th' unwary traveller, along The tainted earth trail'd loofe, or borne on wings Blue as the brimftone's gleam, in fecret fhot Her poifon'd arrows. Pining Envy gnaw'd A blafted laurel, from the locks of Fame Snatch'd, as the goddefs to her lips applied Her mighty trump, and swell'd a folemn note To Homer's venerable name.-Not far Stood Discord foaming. Riot double-tongu'd, And gleaming Frenzy, and thy yellow wing, Revenge, fell fiend! fhook plagues, and thro' the Infus'd their venom to the inmoft foul. [breaft O'er all, Disease her beauty-withering wand Wav'd high; and, heaving on the heavy air Her raven pinions, bloated as the fail'd The face of Nature. Shapelefs was her form, And void; the owl's ill-omen'd eyes high-rais'd Speckled her front; her noftrils breath'd a cloud; Pale Famine's fallow hand had scoop'd her cheek; And a green viper form'd her forky tongue.
Along the troubled air; and from a bag (Wrought deep by Envy in her midnight den) Scatter'd the feeds of death. The fparkling bowl Receiv'd them now and now the enfeebled corfe, Lank, open, spent, at each unfolding pore Suck'd in the poifon, as it rofe decay'd, Livid, and weak, from Pleafure's loofe embrace. Soon o'er each withering check the baleful pow'r
Had fpread unfeen her life-confuming ftain; Nor knew th' exulting youth, who quaft'd clate The draught delicious, that untimely frost Lurk'd by the fprings of life; and fecret chill'd The florid blood, and mark'd him for the tomb. At laft with weak ftep came the trembling Sage, Haggard, and fhrinking from the breeze; his voice Was deep, and hollow; and the loofe nerves fhook His filver-fprinkled head. He thus began: "O yet, while Heav'n fufpends your doom, be My fons! O cease to listen to the lore [wife, Of Pleafure! Death attends her forward step, And Peril lays the fure, tho' fecret fnare. Hear, then, the words of age. Yet Fate beftows One hour; yet Virtue, with indulgent voice, By me invites to fhun the devious maze of Error:-Yet to crown with length of days, With joy, with happiness, your bold carcer She hopes! O fnatch the proffer'd boon! be rous'd; Ere her strong arm tremendous at your heads Shall launch th' avenging thunder; ere difmay'd, Perplex'd, bewilder'd, wild, you feck the haunt Of Peace, when darkness veils her lowly cot; And mourn her gentle finile for ever gone."
§ 49. Wishes obtained often make Men miferable.
Of high-brow'd Opulence! Intemperance, The fruitful parent of Disease, behind Reels loofe, and filent plants th' entangling fnare. Oft when, to vengeance rous'd, th' Eternal dooms Some wretch to mifery extreme; he grants The fervent with; he gives th' infatiate eye To rove tranfported o'er its golden store; The heart to fwell like Xerxes', when he view'd His hofts that wrapt th' immcafurable plain, And triumph'd in his pow'r. Thus fares the wretch
As, whirl'd by Paffion, thro' life's dufty field He burfis exulting. On the drooping head Of Merit, fhy to cenfure, and repreft By decent Pride from murmuring; his rude hand Arrefts the palm. He gains it; and ador'd By Folly's wondering train, prefumptuous shapes His courfe; till like a canker at the root, That fecret riots on the vital stream, Slow, but fure-wafting Fate in filence takes Th' inevitable aim; and fpares the hand Of hoary Time his filver and his fcythe.
O weak thro' Paffion's erring glafs to view What cooler thought condemns! Think'ft thou the man
By birth exalted, by the lavish hand Of Fortune crown'd with honour, whofe gay hours Dance to the melting lute's melodious lay, Is happy-Know, thy waitdering fearch mistakes The fhade for fubftance. Could thy thought ex- The mind within; what real ills excite [plore The mental tumult; to the trembling gaze Of Fear what phantoms of imagin'd woes Swim thro' the dark night's folemn noon, when Sleep
Shakes not her poppies o'er his longing eyes, That rol in vain, what inward-eating care Preys on his pamper'd blood; what withes wild; What dread of future mifery; what dreams Of horror gleam athwart the fable fcroll [scene Where Memory prints her records: would the Wake thee to envy? Would thy wishing soul Pant for the boon that glitters to the eye, But ftings the heart and poisons all its joy?
I read thy fecret doubt :-"'Tis Guilt that fhades
The brow of Grandeur; 'tis the folemn peal Of Confcience thundering in the mental ear, That wakes to quick fenfation. To the dream Of harmless Innocence, no Demon shakes His front terrific: All is calm within, And tuned to perfect harmony.-Yet Peace May dwell with Opulence; one happy mind May eye rejoicing its extended power To work for man; exulting as it views A fmiling tribe around, fnatch'd from the grafp Of ruthless want, and basking in the beam Of joy, to tranfport kindling, and to love."
'Tis juft.-The noble mind by Fortune rais'd, And warm'd by strong benevolence to spread Its happiness to all, difplays to man His Maker's image. To a godlike few
YET warn'd, behold what danger marks the Heav'n gives at once the virtue and the power:
Yet plants not Opulence for these a snare,
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