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What though no facred earth allow thee room,
Nor hallow'd dirge be mutter'd o'er thy tomb;
Yet fhall thy grave with rifing flow'rs le drefs'd,
And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast:
There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow,
There the first roses of the year shall blow:
While Angels with their filver wings o'erfhade-
The ground, now facred by thy reliques made.
So peaceful refts, without a store, a name,
What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame.
How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails theé not,
To whom related, or by whom bego:;:

A heap of duft alone remains of thee,

'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!!

Poets themfelves muft fall like thofe they fung, Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue. Ev'n he, whofe foul now meits in mournful lays, Shall shortly want the gen'rous tear he pays; Then from his clofing eyes thy form fhall part, And the laft pang fhall tear thee from his heart; Life's idle bufinefs at one gafp be o'er,

The Mufe forgot, and thou belov'd na more!



THESE are thy glorious works, Parent of good;
Almighty thine this univerfal frame,

Thus wond'rous fair! thyfelf how wond'rous then!
Unfpeakable! who fitt'ft above thefe Heav'ns, "
To us invifible, or dimly feen

In thefe thy lowlieft works: yet thefe declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine.
Speak ye, who beft can tell, ye fons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with fongs


And coral fymphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Heav'n,
On earth join all ye creatures to extol

Him firft, him last, him midft, and without end.
Fairest of stars, laft in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,

Sure pledge of day, that crown'ft the smiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praife him in thy fphere,
While day arifes, that fweet hour of prime.

Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and foul,
Acknowledge him thy greater; found his praise
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,
And when high noon haft gain'd, and when thou fall’ft.
Moon, that now meet'st the orient fun, now fly'st
With the fix'd ftars, fix'd in their orb that flies;
And ye five other wand'ring fires, that move
In myftic dance, not without fong, refound
His praife, who out of darknefs call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldeft birth
Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix,

And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change
Vary to our great Maker ftill new praise.
Ye mifts, and exhalations, that now rife
From hill or ftreaming lake, dufky or gray,
Till the fun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honour to the world's great Author rife,
Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirfty earth with falling show'rs,
Rifing or falling, ftill advance his praife.

His praife, ye winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe foft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in fign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise,

Join voices all ye living fouls; ye birds,

That finging up to Heaven-gate ascend,

Bear on your wings, and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness if I be filent, morn or ev❜n,

To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my fong, and taught his praife.
Hail, universal Lord! be bounteous ftill
To give us only good: and if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd,
Difperfe it, as now light difpels the dark.





THOU that, with furpaffing glory crown'd,
Look'ft from thy fole dominion like the God
Of this new world; at whose fight all the stars
Hide their diminish'd heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
O Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what ftate
I fell, how glorious once aboye thy fphere!
Till pride, and worse ambition threw me down,
Warring in Heav'n against Heav'n's matchlefs King.
Ah, wherefore? he deferv'd no fuch return

In that bright eminence, and with his good
Upbraided none: nor was his fervice hard.
What could be lefs than to afford him praife,
The eafieft recompenfe, and pay him thanks,
How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me,
And wrought but malice; lifted up fo high,

me, whom he created what I was

I 'fdain'd

I 'fdain'd fubjection, and thought one step higher
Would fet me higheft, and in a moment quit
The debt immenfe of endless gratitude,
So burdenfome, ftill paying, ftill to owe;
Forgetful what from him I ftill receiv'd;
And understood not that a grateful mind
By owing owes not, but ftills pays, at once
Indebted and discharg'd: what burden then?
O had his pow'rful destiny ordain'd
Me fome inferior angel, I had food
Then happy; no unbounded hope had rais'd
Ambition. Yet why not? fome other pow'r
As great might have aspir'd; and me though mean
Drawn to his part; but other pow'rs as great
Fell not, but ftand unfhaken, from within
Or from without, to all temptations arm'd.
Had'ft thou the fame free will and pow'r to ftand?
Thou had't. Whom haft thou then, or what t' accuse,
But Heav'n's free love, dealt equally to all ?

Be then his love accurs'd, fince love or hate,

To me alike it deals eternal wo.

Nay, curs'd be thou; fince against his thy will
Chofe freely what it now fo juftly rues.
Me miferable! which way fhall I fly
Infinite wrath, and infinite defpair?
Which way I fly is Hell; myfelf am Hell;
And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep
Still threat'ning to devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I fuffer feems a Heav'n.
O then at last relent; is there no place
Left for repentance, none for pardon left?
None left but by fubmiffion; and that word
Difdain forbids me, and my dread of shaine
Among the fpirits beneath, whom I feduc'd,
With other promises, and other vaunts,


Than to fubmit, boafting I could fubdue
Th' Omnipotent. Ah me, they little know
How dearly I abide that boast so vain,
Under what torments inwardly I groan,
While they adore me on the throne of Hell:
With diadem and fceptre high advanc'd,
The lower ftill I fall, only fupreme
In mifery; fuch joy ambition finds.
But fay I could repent, and could obtain,
By act of grace, my former state; how foon
Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay
What feign'd fubmiffion swore! eafe would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void:

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd fo deep:
Which would but lead us to a worse relapfe,
And heavier fall: fo fhould I purchase dear
Short intermiffion, bought with double fmart.
This knows my punisher: therefore as far
From granting he, as I from begging peace:.
All hope excluded thus, behold instead
Of us outcaft, exil'd, his new delight,
Mankind created, and for him this world.
So farewel hope; and, with hope, farewel fear;
Farewel remorfe; all good to me is loft;
Evil be thou my good: by thee at least
Divided empire with Heav'n's King I hold,
By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign;
As man ere long, and this new world, shall know.



JUB. SYPHAX, Ljoy to meet thee thus alone.

I have obferv'd of late thy looks are fallen,



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