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This tenement of dust: thy stretching sight The palpable obscure. Before thy eyes,
And kindles into day : the shade, and light, 'This cask, and animated mass of clay.
To man still various, but the same to thee. Nor are the prospects of thy wondrous sight
On thee, is all the structure of my frame To this terrestrial part of man contin'd;
Dependant. Lock'd within the silent womb, But shoot into his soul, and there discern
Sleeping I lay, anil ripening to my birtu ; The first materials of unfashion'd thought,
Yet, Lord, thy out-stretch'd arm preserv'd me Yet dim and undigested, till the mind,
Before I mov'd to entity, and trod (there; Big with the tender images, expands,
The verge of being. To thy hallow'd name And, swelling, labours with th' ideal birth. I'll pay due honours ; for thy mighty hand
Where-e'er I move, thy cares pursue my feet Built this corporeal fabric, when it laid Attendant. When I drink the dews of sleep, The ground-work of existence. Hence, I read Stretch'd on my downy bed, and there enjoy The wonders of thy art This frame I view A sweet forgetfulness of all iny toils,
With terrour and delight; and wrapt in both, Unseen, thy sovereign presence guards my sleep, I startle at myself. My bones, unform'd Wafts all the terrours of my dreains away,
As yet, nor hardening from the viscous parts, Sooths all my soul, and softens my repose.
But blended with th' unanimated mass, Before conception can employ the tongue, Thy eye distinctly view'd ; and while I liy And mould the ductile images to sound ;
Within the earth, imperfect, nor perceiv'd Before imagination stands display'd,
The first faint dawn of life, with ease survey'd
The vital glimmerings of the active seeds,
Was the fair model of this structure drawn,
But such exalted knowledge leaves below Its ductile form, or entity had known And drops poor man from its superior sphere. To range and wanton in an ampler space. In vain, with reason's bailast, would he try
How dear, how rooted in my inmost soul,
Of thy eternal providence! The sum
Less numerous are the sands that crowd the shores,
From my soft bed, and softer joys of sleep, To leave behind thy spirit, and out.fly
I rise to thee. Yet lo! the impious slight Its influence, which, with brooding wings, out-spread Thy mighty wouders. Shall the sons of vice Hatch'd unfledg'd Nature from the dark profound. Elude the vengeance of thy wrathful band
If mounted on my towering thoughts I climb And mock thy lingering thunder, which with-holds Into the Heaven of Heavens; I there bebold Its forky terrours from their guilty heads ? The blaze of thy unclouded majesty!
Thou great tremendous God !--Avaunt, and fly, In the pure empyrean thee I view,
All ye who thirst for blood.-Por, swoln with pride, High thron'd above all height, thy radiant shrine, Each haughty wretch blasphemes thy sacred name, Throng'd with the prostrate seraphs, who receive And bellows his reproaches to affront Beatitude past utterance ! If I plunge
Thy glorious Majesty. Thy foes I hate Down to the gloom of Tartarus profound,
Worse than my own, O Lord ! Explore my soul, There too I find thee, in the lowest bounds See if a flaw or stain of sin infects Of Erebus, and read thee, in the scenes
My guilty thoughts. Then, lead me in the way Of complicated wrath : I see thee clad
That guides my feet to thy own Heaven and thee. In all the majesty of darkness there.
If, on the ruddy morning's purple wings
Led by his arm, undaunted I appear
And mow thc glorious harvest of the field.
He guards my life, and shields me from my foes. VOL XII.
ne held his ample buckler o'er my head,
JOB, CHAP. III.
Jos cursid his birth, and bade his curses flow He o'er my people will maintain my sway,
In words of grief, and eloquence of woe; And teach my willing subjects to obey.
Lost be that day which drayg'd me to my doom, Lord! what is man, of vile and humble birth, Recent to life, and struggling from the womb; Sprung with this kindred reptiles from the earth, Whose beams with such malignant lustre shone, That he should thus thy secret counsels share? Whence all my years in anxious circles run. Or what his son, who challenges thy care? Lost be that night in undetermin'd space, Why does thine eye regard this nothing, man? And veil with deeper shades her gloomy face, His life a point, his ineasure but a span?
Which crowded up with woes this slender span, The fancy'd pageant of a moment made,
While the dull mass rose quickening into man. Swift as a dream, and fleeting as a shade.
O'er that curs'd day let sable darkness rise, Come in thy power, and leave th' etherea) plain, Shrowd the blue vault, and blacken all the skies ; And to thy harness'd tempest give the rein ; May God o'er-look it from his heavenly thtone, Yon starry arch shall bend beneath the load, Nor rouse from sleep the sedentary Sun, So loud the chariot, and so great the God! O'er its dark face to shed his genial ray, Soon as bis rapid wheels Jehovah rolls,
And warın to joy the melancholy day. The folding skies shall tremble to the poles : May the clouds frown, and livid poisons breathe, Heaven's gaudy axle with the world shall fall, And stain heaven's azure with the shade of death. Leap froin the centre, and unlinge the ball.
May tenfold darkness from that dreadful night Touch'd by thy hands, the labouring hills expire Seize aud arrest the straggling gleams of light; Thick clouds of sinoke, and deluges of fire; 'To pay due vengeance for its fatal crime, On the tall gruves the red destroyer preys,
Still be it banish'd from the train of Time; And u raps th' eternal mountains in the blaze: Nor in the radiant list of months appear, Full on my foes may all thy lightnings fly, To stain the shining circle of the year : On purple pinions through the gloomy sky. There through her dusky range may silence roain,
Extend thy band, thou kind all-gracious God, There may no ray, no glimpse of gladness come, Down from the Heaven of Heavens thy bright abode, No voice to cheer the solitary gloom. And shield me from my foes, whose towering pride May every star his gaudy light with-hold, Lowers like a storm, and gathers like a tide: Nor through the vapour shoot his beamy gold : Against strange children vindicate my cause,
Nor let tiie dawn with radiant skirts come on, Who curse thy name, and trample on thy laws; Tipp'd with the glories of the rising Sun; Who fear not vengeance which they never felt, Because that dreadful period fix'd my doom, Train'd to blaspheme, and eloquent in guilt: Nor seal'd the dark recesses of the womb. Their hands are impious, and their deeds profane, To that original my ills I owe, They plead their boasted innocence in vain. Heir of affliction, and the son of woe. Thy name shall dwell for ever on my tongue,
Oh! had I dy'd unexercis'd in pain, And guide the sacred numbers of my song;
And wak’d to life, to sleep in death again! To thee my Muse shall consecrate her lays, Why did not Fate attend me at my birth, And every note shall labour in thy praise; And give me back to my congenial earth? The hallow'd theme shall teach me how to sing, Why was I, when an infant, sooth'd to rest, Swell on the lyre, and tremble on the string. Luild on the knee, or hung upon the breast ?
Oft has thy hand from fight the monarch led, For now the grave would all my cares compose, When death flew raging, and the battle bled ; Conceal my sorrows, and inter my woos: And snatch'd thy servant in the last despair There wrapp'd and lock'd within his cold embrace, From all the rising tumult of the war.
Safe had i slumber'd in the arms of peace; Against strange children vindicate my cause, There with the mighty kings, who lie enrollid Wbo curse thy name, and trample on thy laws; In clouds of incense, and in beds of gold : That our fair sons may sinile in early bloom, There with the princes, who in grandeur shone, Our sons, the hopes of all our years to come : And aw'd the trembling nations from the throne ; Like plants that nursid by fostering showers arise, Amicted Job an equal rest might have, And lift their spreading honours to the skies. And share the dark retirement of the grave ; That our cbaste daughters may their charms dis. Or as a shapeless embryo seek the tomb, play,
Rude and imperfect from the abortive womb : Like the bright pillars of our temple, gay, Ere motion's early principle began, Polish'd, and tall, and smooth, and fair as they. Or the dim substance kindled into man. Piled up with plenty let our barns appear,
There from their monstrous crimes the wicked and burst with all the seasons of the year ;
cease, Let pregnant flocks in every quarter bleat,
Their labouring guilt is weary'd into peace ; And drop their tender young in every street. There blended sleep the coward and the brave, Safe from their labours may our oxen come, Stretch'd, with his lord, the undistinguish'd slave Safe may they bring the gather'd summer home. Enjoys the cornmon refuge of the grave. Oh! may no sighs, no streams of sorrow fow, An equal lot the mighty victor shares, To stain our triumphs with the tears of woe, And lies amidst the captives of his wars;
Bless'd is the nation, how sincerely bless'd! With his, those captives mingle their remains, Of such unbounded happiness possess'd,
The same in death, nor lessen'd by their chains. To whom Jehovah's sacred name is known,
Why are we doom'd to view the genial ray? Who claim the God of Israel for their own. Why curst to hear the painful light of day?
Oh! with what joy the wretches yield their breath, To God our grateful accents will we raise, And pant in bitterness of soul for death?
And every tongue shall celebrate his praise : As a rich prize, the distant bliss they crave, Behold display'd the wonders of his might; And find the glorious treasure in the grave. Behold the Lord triumphant in the fight ! Why is the wretch condemn'd without relief, With what immortal fame and glory grac'd ! To combat woe, and tread the round of grief, What trophies rais'd amid the watery waste ! Whom in the toils of fate his God has bound, How did his power the steeds and riders sweep And drawn the line of miseries around?
Ingulf'd in heaps, and whelm'd beneath the deep? When nature calls for aid, iny sighs intrude, Whom shall we fear, while he, Heaven's awful My tears prevent my necessary food ;
Unsheaths for Israel his avenging sword ? [Lord, Like a full stream o'ercharg'd, my sorrows flow,
His outstretch'd arm, and tutelary care, In bursts of anguish, and a tide of woe;
Guarded and sav'd us in the last despair : For now the dire affliction which I fed,
His mercy eas'd us from our circling pains, Pours like a roaring torrent on my head.
Unbound our shackles, and unlock'd our chains, My terrours still the phantom view'd, and wrought to him our God, our fathers' God, I'll rear The dreadful image into every thought :
A sacred temple, and adore him there,
The Lord commands in war; his matchless might
And teach the hovering tumult where to storm.
His name, ( Israel, Heaven's Eternal Lord,
Por ever honourd, reverenc'd, and ador'd.
When to the fight, from Ægypt's fruitful soil, Then will vain man complain and murmur still,
Pour'd forth in myriads all the sons of Nile; And stand on terms with his Creator's will?
The Lord o'erthrew the courser and the car, Shall this high privilege to clay be given ?
Sunk Pharaoh's pride, and overwhelm'd his war. Shall dust arraigo the providence of Heaven ?
Beneath th' encumber'd deeps his legions lay, With reason's line the boundless distance scan;
For many a lea que impurpling all the sea : Oppose Heaven's awful Majesty to man.
The chiefs, and steeds, and warriours whirld around, To wbat a length his vast dominions run?
Lay midst the roarings of the surges drown'd. How far beyond the journeys of the Sun?
Who shall thy power, thou mighty God, with, He hung yon' golden balls of light on high,
stand, And lanch'd the planets through the liquid sky :
And check the force of thy victorious hand? To rolling worlds he mark'd the certain space, Thy hand, which red with wrath in terrour rose, Fixt and sustain'd the elemental peace.
To crush that day thy proud Ægyptian foes. Unnumber'd as those worlds his armies move,
Struck by that hand, their drooping squadrons fall, And the gay legions guard his realms above ;
Crowding in death; one fate o'erwhelms them all. High o'er th' ethereal-plains, the myriads rise, Soon as thy anger, charg'd with vengeance, came, And pour their flaning ranks along the skies :
They sunk like stubble crackling in the flame. From their bright arms incessant splendours stream,
At thy dread voice the summond billows crowd, And the wide azure kindles with the gleam.
And a still silence lulls the wondering flood : To this low world he bids the light repair,
Roll’d up, the crystal ridges strike the skies, Down through the gulfs of undulating air :
Waves peep o'er waves, and seas o'er seas arise. For man he taught the glorious Sun to roll,
Around in heaps the listening surges stand, From his bright barrier to his western goal. Mute and observant of the high command. How then shall man, thus insolently proud,
Congeal'd with fear attends the watery train, Plead with his Judge, and combat with his God ?
Rous'd from the secret chambers of the main. How from his mortal mother can he come,
With savage joy the sons of Ægypt cry'd, Unstain'd from sin, untinctur'd from the womb?
(Vast were their hopes, and boundless was their The Lord from his sublime empyreal throne,
“ Let us pursue those fugitives of Nile, (pride) As a dark globe, regards the silver Moon.
This servile nation, and divide the spoil : Those stars, that grace the wide celestial plain,
And spread so wide the slaughter, till their blood Are but the humblest sweepings of his train;
Dyes with a stronger red the blushing flood. Dim are the brightest splendours of the sky;
Oh! what a copious prey their hosts afford, And the Sun darkens in Jehovah's eye.
To glut and fatten the devouring sword !" But does not sin diffuse a fouler stain,
As thus the yawning gulph the boasters passid, And thicker darkness cloud the soul of man?
At thy command rush'd forth the rapid blast. Shall he the depths of endless wisdom know?
Then, at the signal given, with dreadful sway, The short-liv'd sovereign of the world below?
In one huge heap roll'd down the roaring sea;
The deeps alarm'd call terribly from far
Till her proud sons astonish'd Ægypt found,
Cover'd with billows, and in tempests drown'd. IN THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER OF EXODUS, PARA- What god can emulate thy power divine,
Or who oppose bis miracles to thine ? Then to the Lord, the vast triumphant throng
When joyful we adore thy glorious name, Of Israel's sons, with Moses, rais'd the song.
Thy trembling foes coufess their fear and shame.
The world attends thy absolute command,
Oh! not with balf that dreadful rage
The royal savage tlies,
And darts upon his prize.
How fair, how comely are our wounds,
In our dear country's cause!
What fame attends the glorious fate, And each insulting tyrant of the Nile :
props our dying laws!
Bravely regardless of disgrace,
Bold Virtue stands alone,
With pure unsully'd glory shines,
And honours still her own.
She bids her sons arise,
The portals of the skics.
Now, with trium.phant wings, she soars,
Above the realios of day,
Through ages, Lord, shall stretch thy boundless And towers th' ethereal way,
With her has silence a reward, For Pharaoh's steeds, and cars, and warlike train,
Within the bless'd abodes, Leap'd in, and boldly rang'd the sandy plain.
That holy silence which conceals
The secrets of the gods.
But with a wretch I would not live,
Nor lodge beneath one roof, nor lanch
One vessel from the land : The loosen'd billows burst from every side,
For, blended with the bad, the good And whelm the war and warriours in the tide ;
The common stroke have felt, But on each hand the solid billows stood,
And Heaven's dire vengeance struck alike
At innocence and guilt.
At present lame, and slow,
But yet, though tardy to advance, THE THIRD ODE OF THE SECOND BOOK She gives the surer blow.
Let the brave youth be train'd, the stings
Of poverty to bear,
The exercise of war.
To listen to alarms,
With unresisted arms.
Distracted with despair,
And thundering through the war.
The slaughter of his sword,
And terrours for her Lord :
Nor let my consort go,
This formidable foę."
THE THIRD ODE OF THE FOURTH BOOK
With friendly aspect views,
And sacred to the Muse.
And deathless triumphs owe;
That shades the champion's hrow.
Fatigue the courser's speed;
Provoke the bounding steed.
The Capitolian heights,
The trophies of his fights.
Because his thundering hand in war
Swift on their canvass wings his navics go, Has check'd the swelling tide
Where-ever tides can roll, or winds can blow; Of the stern tyrant's power, and broke
Their sails within the arctic circle rise, The measures of his pride.
Led by the stars that gild the northern skies ;
Tempt frozen seas, nor fear the driving blast, But by sweet Tybur's groves and streams His glorious theme pursues,
But swell exulting o'er the hoary waste ;
O’er the wide ocean hold supreme command, And scorns the laurels of the war,
And active commerce spread through every land; For those that crown the Muse.
Or with full pride to southern regions run, There in the most retir'd retreats,
To distant worlds, on t'other side the Sun ; He sets his charming song,
And plow the tides, where odoriferous galcs (sails. To the sweet harp which Sappho touch'd,
Perfume the smiling waves, and stretch the bellying Or bold Alcæus strung.
See! the proud merchant seek the precious shore.
And trace the winding veins of glittering ore; Rank'd by thy sons, Imperial Rome,
Low in the earth his wondering eyes behold Among the poet's quire,
Th' imperfect metal ripening into gold. Above the reach of Envy's hand
The mountains tremble with alternate rays, I safely may aspire.
And cast at once a shadow and a blaze ; Thou sacred Muse, whose artful hand
Streak'd o'er with gold, the pebbles flame around, Can teach the bard to sing ;
Gleam o'er the soil, and gild the tinkling ground ; Can animate the golden lyre,
Charg'd with the glorious prize, his vessels come, And wake the living string :
And in proud triumph bring an India home.
Fair Concord, hail; thy wings o'er Brunswick Thou, hy whose mighty power, may sing,
spread, In unaccustom'd strains,
And with thy olives crown his laureld head. The silent fishes in the floods,
Come; in thy most distinguish'd charms appear; As on their banks the swans:
Oh! come, and bolt the iron-gates of war. To thee I owe my spreading fame,
The fight stands still when Brunswick bids it cease, That thousands, as they gaze,
The monarch speaks, and gives the world a peace; Make me their wonder's common theme,
Like awful justice, sits superior loru, And object of their praise.
To poise the balance, or to draw the sword;
In due suspense the jarring realms to keep, If first I struck the Lesbian lyre,
And hush the tumults of the world to sleep. No fame belongs to me;
Now with a brighter face, and nobler ray, I owe my honours, when I please,
Shine forth, thou source of light, and god of day; (If e'er I please) to thce.
Say, didst thou ever in thy bright career
A perfect image of what this shall be :
Scarce the Platonic year shall this renew,
Or keep the bright original in view.
WRITTEN IN 1721.
YOUNG MAN AND HIS CAT.
A napless youth, whom fates averse had drove To hear the strains of the prophetic Muse; To a strange passion, and preposterous love, Who sees those councils with a generous care
Longd to possess his puss's spotted charms, Heal the wide wounds, and calm the rage of war ;
And hug the tabby beauty in his arms. She sees new verdure all the plain o'erspread,
To what odd whimsies love inveigles men ? Where the fight barn'd, and where the battle bled. Sure if the boy was ever blind, 'twas then. The fields of death a softer scene disclose,
Rack'd with his passion, and in deep despair, And Ceres smiles where iron harvests rose.
The youth to Venus thus addrest his prayer. The bleating flocks along the bastion pass,
O queen of beauty, since thy Cupid's dart And from the awful ruins crop the grass.
Has fir'd my soul, and rankles in my heart; Freed from his fears, each unmolested swain, Since doom'd to burn in this unhappy flame, In peaceful furrows cuts the fatal plain ;
From thee at least a remedy I claim; Turns the high bulwark and aspiring mound,
If once, to bless Pigmalion's longing arms, And sees the camp with all the seasons crown'd. The marble soften'd into living charms; Beneath each clod, bright burnish'd arms appear ;
And warm with life the purple current ran Each furrow glitters with the pride of war;
In circling streams through every flinty vein ; The fields resound and tinkle as they break,
If, with his own creating hands display'd, And the keen falchion rings against the rake;
He hugg'd the statue, and embrac'd a maid; At rest beneath the hanging ramparts laid,
And with the breathing image fir'd his heart, He sings securely in the dreadful shade.
The pride of Nature, and the boast of Art : Hark ! -o'er the seas, the British lions roar Hear my request, and crown my wondrous flame, Their monarch's fame to every distant shore : The same its nature, be thy gift the same ;
THE FABLE OF THE