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nsult the banish'd Wanderer: On slie goes
Now turn your Eyes to yon sweet-sinelling Bow'r,
See'st thou this, righteous Father! See'st thou this,
the Great Tribunal. Glynn.
ON that great Day the solemn Trump shall sound, (That Trump which once in Heaven, on Man's
Revolt Convok'd th' astonim'd Seraphs ;) at whose Voice Th' unpeopled Graves shall pour forth all their Dead, Then lhall th' assembled Nations of the Earth From ev'ry Quarter at the Judgment Seat Unite ; Egyptians, Babylonians, Greeks, Parthians; and they who dwell on Tyher's Banks, Names fam'd of old: or who of later Age, Chinese and Ruffian, Mexican and Turk, Tenant the wide Terrene; and they who pitch Their Tents on Niger's Banks; or where the Sun Pours on Golconda's Spires his early Light, Drink Ganges' facred Stream. At once shall rise Whom distant Ages to each others Sight Had long denied: Before the Throne shall kneel Some great Progenitor, while at his Side Stands his Descendant through a thoufand Lines., Whate'er their Nation, and whate'er their Rank, Heroes and Patriarchs, Slaves and sceptered Kings. With equal Eye the God of All shall lee, And judge with equal Love.
The Ex D of the World. . Glvnn.
HOW shall the Muse, her Numbers all too weak, Tell how that restless Element of Fire Shall wage with Seas and Earth intestine War,
And deluge all Creation? Whether (so
Some !ome think) the Comet, as thro' Fields of Air jawlesi he wanders, shall rush headlong on, Thwarting th' Ecliptic where th' unconscious Earth lolls in her wonted Course; whether the Sun With Force centripetal into his Orb Attract he* long reluctant; or the Caves, Those dread Volcanos where ungend'ring lye Sulphureous Minerals, from their dark Abyss Pour Streams.of liquid Fire ; -while from above, As erst on Sodom, Heav'n's averging Hand
Rains sierce Cumbustion. Where are now the
Works Of Art, the Toil of Ages? Where are now Th' Imperial Cities, Sepulchres, and Domes, Trophies and Pillars? Where is Egypt's Boast, Those lofty Pyramids which high in Air Rear'd their aspiring Heads, to distant Times Of Memphian Pride, a lasting Monument? Tell me where Athens rais'd her Towers ?—Where
Thebes Open'd her hundred Portals ?—Tell me where Stood Sea-girt Albion ?—Where Imperial Rome Propt by seven Hills, fat like a scepter'd Queen, And aw'd the tributary World to Peace? Shew me the Rampart, which o'er many a Hill Thro' many a Valley stretch'd its wide Extent, Rais'd by that mighty Monarch, to repel The roving Tartar, when with Insult rude 'Gainst Pekin's Towers he bent th' unerring Bow.
But what is mimic Art? ev'n Nature's Works, Seas, Meadows, Pastures, the meand'ring Streams, And everlasting Hills shall be no more.
No more shall Teneriff cloud-piercing Height
Such is that awful, that tremendous Day,
But find me wrapt in Meditations high,
"Power supreme! "O everlasting King! to Thee I kneel, "To Thae I lift my Voice. With servent Heat "Melt all ye Elements! And Thou, high Heaven, "Shrink, lik a shrivell'd Scroll! But think, O
"Lord, "Think on the best, the noblest of thy Works; "Think on thine own bright Image! Think on
"Him "Who dy'd to fave us from thy righteous Wrath; *« And 'midst the Wreck of Worlds remember