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And twice ten tbousand hence, if you
And yet so frightful what, or kind; Your temper reconcile
As that the rending rock, To reason's bound, will he behold
The darken'd Sun, and rising dead, Your prudence with a smile;
So formidable spoke? A smile, which through eternity
And are we darker than that Sun? Diffuses so bright rays,
Than rocks more hard, and blind? The dimmest deifies c'en guilt,
We are ;-if not to such a God If guilt, at last, obeys:
In agonies resign'd. Your guilt (for guilt it is to mourn
Yes, e'en in agonies forbear llen such a sovereign reigns),
To doubt alınighty love; Your guilt diminish; peace pursue ;
Whate'er endears eternity, How glorious peace in pains !
Is mercy from above; Here, then, your sorrows cease; if not,
What most imbitters time, that most Think how uhappy they,
Eternity endears, Who guilt increase by streaming tears,
And thus, by plunging in distress, Which guilt should wasla away;
Exalts us to the spheres ; Of tears that gush profuse restrain ;
Joy's fountain head! where bliss o'er bliss, \bence burst those dismal sighs?
O'er wonders wonders rise, They from the throbbing breast of one
And an Omnipotence prepares (Sirange truth!) most happy rise ;
Its banquet for the wise : Not angels (hear it, and exult!)
Ambrosial banquet ! rich in wines E alerger share
Nectareous to the soul ! Than is indulg'd to you, and yours,
What transports sparkle from the stream, Of God's impartial care ;
As angels fill the bowl! Anxious for each, as if on each
Fountain profuse of every bliss ! His care for all was thrown;
Good-will immense prevails; For all his care as absolute,
Man's line can't fathom its profound ; As all had been but one.
An angel's plummet fails. Ard is he then so near! so kind !
Thy love and might, by what they know, How little then, and great,
Who judge, nor dream of more; That riddle, man! O! let me gaze
They ask a drop, how deep the sea ! At wonders in his fate;
One sand, how wide the shore ! His fate, who yesterday did crawl
Of thy exuberant good-will, A worm from darkness deep,
OHended Deity! And shall, with brother-worms, bencath
The thousandth part who comprehends, A turf, to morrow sleep';
A deity is he. How mean! - And yet, if well obey'd
How yonder ample azure field His mighty Master's call,
With radiant worlds is sonn! The whole creation for mean man
How tubes astonish us with those Is deem'd a boon too small :
More deep in ether thrown ! Too small the whole creation deem'd
And those beyond of brighter worlds Fur emmets in the dust!
Why not a million more? Account amazing! yet most true;
In lieu of answer, let us all My song is bold, yet just :
Fall prostrate, and adore. Man born for intinite, in whom
Since thou art infinite in power, Nor period can destroy
Nor thy indulgence less ; The power, in exquisite extremes,
Since man, quite impotent and blind, To suffer, or enjoy ;
Oft drops into distress; Give him Earth's empire (if no more)
Say, what is resignation? 'Tis Ile's beggard, and undone!
Man's weakness understood ; Imprison'd in unbounded space!
And wisdom grasping, with an hand Benighted by the Sun !
Far stronger, every good. For what the Sun's meridian blaze
Let rash repiners stand appall’d, To the most feeble ray
In thee who dare not trust; Which glimmers from the distant dawn
Whose abject souls, like demons dark, Of uncreated day?
Are murmuring in the dust; 'Tis not the poet's rapture feign'd
For man to murmur, or repine Swells here the vain to please;
At what by thee is done, The mind most sober kindles most
No less absurd, than to complain At truths sublime as these;
Of darkness in the Sun. They warm e'en me.-1 dare not say,
Who would not, with an heart at ease, Divine ambition strove
Bright eye, unclouded brow, Not to bless only, but confound,
Wisdom and goodness at the helm, Nay, fright us with its lure;
The roughest ocean plough?
What, though I'm swallowd in the deep ? Nay, peace beyond, no small degree
Of rapture 't will impart ;
Know, ma lam! when your heart's in Heaven, I'm landed, and adore:
“ All Heaven is in your heart.” Thy will is welcome, let it wear
But who to Heaven their hearts can raise ? Its most tremendous form ;
Denied divine support,
The wise with ardour court :
When prayer partakes the seraph's fire, To thee, their fountain, Bow.
'Tis mounted on his wing, If wise; as curl'd around to theirs
Bursts through Heaven's crystal gates, and gains Meandering streams below:
Sure audience of its king : Not less compellid by reason's call,
The labouring soul from sore distress To thee our souls aspire,
That bless'd expedient frees; Than to thy skies, by Nature's law,
I see you far advanc'd in peace ; High mounts material fire;
I see you on your knees :
How on that po-ture has the beam To thee aspiring they exult,
Divine for ever shone ! I feel my spirits rise,
An humble heart, God's other seat 10! I feel myself thy son, and pant
The rival of his throne : For patrimonial skies;
And stoops Omnipotence so low! Since ardent thirst of future good,
And condescends to duell, And generous sense of past,
Eternity's inhabitant, To thee man's prudence strongly ties,
Well pleas'd, in such a cell ? And binds affection fast;
Such honour how shall we repay? Since great thy love, and great our want,
How treat our guest divine ? And men the wisest blind,
The sacrifice supreme be slain ! And bliss our aim; pronounce us all
Let self-will die: resign. Distracted, or resign'd;
Thus far, at large, on our disease; Resign'd through duty, interest, shame;
Now let the cause be shown, Deep shame! dare I complain,
Whence rises, and will ever rise, When (wondrous truth!) in Heaven itself
The dismal human groan : Joy ow'd its birth to pain?
What our sole fountain of distress? And pain for me! for me was drain'd
Strong passion for this scene;
That tritles make important, things
Of mighty moment mean :
When Earth's dark maxims poison shed
On our polluted souls, If pardon'd this, what cause, what crime
Our hearts and interests fly as far
Asunder, as the poles;
Like princes in a cottage nurs'd,
Unknown their royal race, And when to praise the man shall cease,
With abject aims, and sordid joys, Or Sun to strike the view ;
Our grandeur we disgrace; A cloud dishonours both; but man's
O! for an Archimedes new, The blacker of the two :
Of moral powers possess'd, For oh! ingratitude how black !
The world to mure, and quite expel With most profound amaze
That traitor from the breast. At love, which man belov'd o'erlooks,
No small advantage may be reap'd Astonish'd angels gaze.
From thought whence we descend ; Praise cheers, and warms, like generous wine; From weighing well, and prizing weigh'd Praise, more divine than prayer;
Our origin, and end : Prayer points our ready path to Heaven;
From far above the glorious Sun Praise is already there.
To this dim scene we came : Let plausive resignation rise,
And may, if wise, for ever bask And tanish all complaint;
In great Jehovah's beam: All virtues thronging into one,
Let that brigirt beam on reason rous'd It finishes the saint;
In aweful lustre rise, Makes the man bless'd, as man can be;
Earth's giant-ills are dwarf'd at once,
And all disquiet dies.
Those phantoms charm no more ; 'Tis Nature's brightest ornament,
Empire's a feather for a fool,
And Indian mines are poor :
10 Isaiah lviï: 15.
Then leveli'd quite, whilst yet alive,
Though vice by no superior joys The monarch and his slave;
Her heroes keeps in pay ; Not wait enlighten'd minds to learn
Through pure disinterested love That lesson from the grave:
Of ruin they obey ! A George the Third would then be low
Strict their devotion to the wrong, As Lewis in renown,
Though tempted by no prize; Could be not boast of glory more
Hard their commandments, and their creed Than sparkles from a crown,
A magazine of lyes When human glory rises high
From fancy's forge: gay fancy smiles As huinan glory can;
At reason plain, air cool; When, though the king is truly great,
Fancy, whose curious trade it is Still greater is the man;
To make the finest fool. The man is dead, where virtue fails;
Voltaire ! long life's the greatest curse And though the monarch proud
That mortals can receive, In grandeur shines, his gorgeous robe
When they imagine the chief end Is but a gaudy shroud.
Of living is to live; Wisdom! where art thou? None on Earth,
Quite thoughtless of their day of death, Though grasping wealth, fame, power,
That birth-day of their sorrow!
Nor crush them till—to morrow.
These are cold, northern thoughts, conccir'd Worms feast on viands rare,
Beneath an humble cot; Those little epicures have kings
Not mine, your genius, or your state, To grace their bill of fare:
No castle is my lot', From kings what resignation due
But soon, quite level shall we lie; To that almighty will,
And, what pride most bemoans, Which thrones bestows, and, when they fail, Our parts, in rank so distant now, Can throne them higher still !
As level as our bones; Who truly great ? The good and brave,
Hear you that sound? Alarming sound ! The masters of a mind
Prepare to meet your fate! The will divine to do resolv'd,
One, who writes finis to our works, To suffer it resign'd.
Is knocking at the gate ; Madam! if that may give it weight,
Far other works will soon be weigh'd; The trifle you receive
Far other judges sit; Is dated from a solemn scene,
Far other crowns be lost or won, The border of the grave;
"Than fire ambitious wit : Where strongly strikes the trembling soul Eternity's dread power,
Their wit far brightest will be prov'd,
Who sunk it in good sense;
And veneration most profound
Of dread Omnipotence.
'Tis that alone unlocks the gate However, spare it; ere you die
Of blest eternity; Such-thoughts will be your own,
0! mayst thou never, never lose
That more than golden key 12!
Whate'er may seem too rough excuse,
Your good I have at heart : Should blame Voltaire the wise :
Since from my soul I wish you well; Fame's trumpet rattling in your ear,
As yet we must not part: Now, makes us disagree;
Shall you, and I, in love with life, When a far louder trumpet sounds,
Life's future schemes contrive, Voltaire will close with me :
The world in wonder not unjust, How shocking is that modesty,
That we are still alive? Which keeps some honest men
What have we left? How mean in man From urging what their hearts suggest,
A shadow's shade to crare! When brav'd by folly's pen
When life, so vain! is vainer still, Assaulting truths, of which in all
'Tis time to take your leave : Is sown the sacred secd !
Happier, than happiest life, is death, Our constitution's orthodox,
Who falling in the field And closes with our creed :
Of conflict with his rebel will,
Writes vici, on his shield;
11 Letter to lord Lyttelton. And labour to be lost!
19 Alluding to Prussia,
So falling man, immortal heir
Madam ! self-will inficts your pains : Of an eternal prize ;
Self-will's the deadly foe Undaunted at the gloomy grave,
Which deepens all the dismal shades, Descends into the skies.
And points the shafts of moe: O! how disorder'd our machine,
Your debt to nature fully paid, When contradictions mix!
Now virtue claims her due : When Nature strikes no less than twelvę,
But virtue's cause I need not plead, And folly points at six !
'T is safe; I write to you : To mend the moments of your heart,
You know, that virtue's basis lies How great is my delight
In ever judging right; Gently to wind your morals nip,
And wiping erronr's clouds away, And set your hand aright!
Which dim the mental sight : That hand, which spread your wisdom wide
Why mourn the dead? you wrong the grave,
From storm that safe resort ;
We are still tossing out at sea,
Our admiral in port.
Was death denied, this world, a scene To Satan dreadfully resign'd,
How dismal and forlorn ! Whole herds rush down the steep
To death we owe, that 't is to man Of folly, by lewd wits possessid,
A blessing to be bom ; And perish in the deep.
When every other blessing fails, Men's praise your vanity pursues ;
Or sapp'd by slow decay, 'Tis well, pursue it still ;
Or, storin'd by sudden blasts of fate, But let it be of men deceas'd,
Is swiftly wbirl'd away; And you 'll resign the will ;
How happy! that no storm, or time, And how superior they to those
Of death can rob the just! At whose applause you aim ;
None pluck from their unaching heads How very far superior they
Soft pillows in the dust! In number, and in name!
Well pleas'd to bear Heaven's darkest frown,
Your utmost pover employ;
'Tiş noble chemistry to turn POSTSCRIPT.
Necessity to joy. Thus have I written, when to write
Whate'er the colour of my fate, No mortal should presume;
My fate shall be my choice : Or only write, what none can blame,
Determin’d am I, whilst I breathe, Hic jacet-for his tomb :
To praise and to rejoice; The public frowns, and censures loud
What ample cause! triumphant hope' My puerile employ;
O rich eternity! Though just the censure, if you smile,
I start not at a world in flames, The scandal I enjoy ;
Charm'd with one glimpse of thee: But sing no more—no more I sing
And thou! its great inbabitant! Or reassume the lyre,
How glorious dost thou shine! Unless vouchsafd an humble part
And dirt through sorrow, danger, death, Where Raphael Jeads the choir:
A beam of joy divine ! What myriads swell the concert loud !
The void of joy (with some concern Their golden harps resound
The truth severe I tell) High, as the footstool of the throne,
Is an impenitent in guilt, And deep, as Hell profound :
A fool or infidel! Hell (horrid contrast !) chord and song
Weigh this, ve pupils of Voltaire ! Of raptur'd angels drowns
From joyless murmur free; In self-will's peal of blasphemies,
Or, let us know, which character And hideous burst of groans ;
Shall crown you of the three. But drowns them not to me; I hear
Resign, resign: this lesson none Harmonious thunders roll
Too deeply can instill; (In language low of men to speak)
A crown has been resign'd by more, From echoing pole to pole!
Than have resign’d the will; Whilst this grand chorus shakes the skies, Though will resign'd the meanest makes Above, beneath the Sun,
Superior in renown, Through boundless age, by men, by gods,
And richer in celestial eyes, Jehovah's will be done!,”
Than he who wears a crown; 'T is done in Heaven ; whence headlong hurl'd Hence, in the bosom cold of age, Self-will with Satan fell;
It kindled a strange aim And must from Earth be banish'd too,
To shine in song; and bid me boast Dr Earth's another Hell;
The grandeur of my theme :
But oh! how far presumption falls
Then shining forth, when deepest shades shall blok Its lofty theme below!
The Sun's bright orb, and Cato be forgot. Our thoughts in life's December freeze,
I sing—but ah! my there I need not tell, And numbers cease to flow.
See every eye with conscious sorrow swell: First! greatest! best! graot what I wrote
Who now to verse would raise his humble voice, For others, ne'er may rise
Can only show bis duty, not his choice. To brand the writer! thou alone
How great the weight of grief our hearts sustain! Caust make our wisdom wise;
We languish, and to speak is to complain.
Let us look back, (for who too oft can view And how unwise! how deep in guilt!
That moet illustrious scene, for ever new!) How infamous the fault!
See all the sea ons shine on Anna's throne, “ A teacher thron’d in pomp of words,
And pay a constant tribute, not their own. lodeed, beneath the taught!"
Her summer's heats nor fruits alone bestow,
They reap the harvest, and subdue the foe; Means most infallible to make
And when black storins confess the distant Sud, The world an infidel;
Her winters wear the wreaths her summers won. And, with instructions most divine,
Revolving pleasures in beir turns appear, To pare a path to Hell;
And triumphs are the product of the year. O' for a clean and ardent heart,
To crown the whole, great joys in greater cease, O! for a soul on fire,
And glorious victory is lost in peace. Thy praise, bezun on Earth, to sound
Whence this profusion on our favour'd isle? Where angels string ihe lyre;
Did partial fortune on our virtue smile ? How cold is man! to bim how hard
Or did the scep re, in great Anna's hand, (Hard, what most easy scens)
Stretch forth this rich indulgence o'er our land? “ To set a just esteem on that,
Ungrateful Britain! quit thy groundless clair, Which yet he-most esteemis !!!
Thy queen and thy good fortune are the saine.
Hear, with alarms our trumpets fill the sky; What shall we say, when boundles bliss
'Tis Anna reigns! the Gallic squadrons fy. Is offr'd to mankind,
We spread our canvass to the southern shore; And to that offer when a race
'Tis Anna reigos! the South resigns her store. Of rationals is blind?
Her virtue smooths the tumult of the main, Of human nature ne'er too high
And swells the field with monntains of the slaio. Are our ideas wrought;
Argyll and Churchill but the glory share, Of hunan merit ne'er too low
While millions lie subdued by Anna's prayer. Depress'd the daring thought.
How great her zeal! how fervent her desire !
Not set returns of pleasure or of pride.
Not want of rest, or the Sun's parting ray,
But finislı'd duty, limited the day. HIS MAJESTY'S ACCESSION TO THE How sweet succeeding sleep! what lovely themes THRONE.
Smil'd in her thoughts, and soften'd all her dreams!
Her royal conch desc nding angels spread, INSCRIBED TO JOSETH ADDISON, ESQ. SECRETARY TO And join'd their wings a shelter o'er her head.
Though Lurope's wealth and glory claim'd a part,
Religion's cause reigo'd mistress of her heart: -Gaudia Curis.
She saw, and griev'd to see, the mean estate
Of those who round the hallow'd altar wait; Sir, I hare long, and with impatience, sought, She shed her bounty, piously profuse, To ease the fullness of my grateful thought, And thought it more her own in sacred use. My fame at once, and duty to pursue,
Thus on his furrow see the tiller stand,
And fill with genial secd his lavish hand;
What strikes my sight? does proud Augusta rise
And sacred domes on palaces look down:
Know, sir, the great esteem and honour due, Drown'd in a brighter blaze it disappears,
Who dry'd the widow's and the orphau's tears? When sadness rei n'd, rhen fortune, so severe, Who stoop'd from high to succour the distrest, Had warni'd our bell's to be most sjucere.
And reconcile the wounded heart to rest? And when no motives could have furce to raise Great in her goodness, well could we perceive, A serious value, and proroke my praise,
Whoever sought, it was a queen that gave. But such as rise above, and for transcend
Misfortune lost her name, her guiltless frown Vi hatever glorits with this world shall end, But made another debtor to the town;
THEIR EXCELLENCIES IHE LORDS JUSTICES.