SATAN'S ADDRESS TO THE SUN. O thou that with surpassing glory crowned, Look'st from thy sole dominion like the God Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars Hide their diminished 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 state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere; Till pride and worse ambition threw me down, Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King; Ah, wherefore! he deserved no such return From me, whom he created what I was In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none; nor was his service hard. What could be less than to afford him praise, The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, How due! yet all his good proved ill in me, And wrought but malice; lifted up so high I 'sdained subjection, and thought one step higher Would set me highest, and in a moment quit The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burdensome, still paying, still to owe, Forgetful what from him I still received, And understood' not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharged; what burden then ? O had his powerful destiny ordained Me some inferior Angel, I had stood Then happy; no unbounded hope had raised Ambition. Yet why not? some other power As great might have aspired, and me, though mean, Drawn to his part; but other powers as great Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within Or from without, to all temptations armed.

Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand ?
Thou hadst; whom hast thou then, or what to accuse,
But Heaven's free love dealt equally to all ?
Be then his love accursed, since love or hate,
To me alike, it deals eternal woe.
Nay, cursed be thou; since against his thy will
Chose freely what it now so justly rues.
Me miserable! which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;
And in the lowest deep, a lower deep
Still threatening to devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven.
O then at last relent : is there no place
Left for repentance, none for pardon left?
None left but by submission; and that word
Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame
Among the Spirits beneath, whom I seduced
With other promises and other vaunts
Than to submit, boasting I could subdue
The 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 sceptre high advanced,
The lower still I fall, only supreme
In misery ; such joy ambition finds.
But say I could repent, and could obtain
By act of grace my former state ; how soon
Would height recal high thoughts, how soon unsay
What feigned submission swore ? Ease would recant
Vows made in pain as violent and void.
For never can true reconcilement grow
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep;
Which would but lead me to a worse relapse
And heavier fall : so should I purchase dear
Short intermission bought with double srnart.

This knows my punisher; therefore as far
From granting he, as I from begging peace :
All hope excluded thus, behold instead
Of us outcast, exiled, his new delight,
Mankind created, and for him this world.
So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,
Farewell remorse : all good to me is lost;
Evil be thou my good, by thee at least
Divided empire with Heaven's King I hold,
By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign ;
As man ere long, and this new world, shall know.

THE BUTTERFLY.
BEAUTIFUL creature ! I have been

Moments uncounted watching thee,
Now fitting round the foliage green

Of yonder dark, embowering tree ;

And now again, in frolic glee,
Hovering around those opening flowers,

Happy as Nature's child should be,
Born to enjoy her loveliest bowers.
And I have gazed upon thy Aight,

Till feelings I can scarce define,
Awakened by so fair a sight,

With desultory thoughts combine

Not to induce me to repine,
Or envy thee thy happiness;

But from a lot so bright as thine
To borrow musings born to bless.
For unto him whose spirit reads

Creation with a Christian's eye,
Each happy living creature pleads

The cause of Him who reigns on high ;

Who spanned the earth, and arched the sky,
Gave life to every thing that lives,

And still delighteth to supply
With happiness the life He gives.

This truth may boast but little worth,

Enforced by rhet'ric's frigid powers ;But when it has its quiet birth

In contemplation's silent hours ; When Summer's brightly peopled bowers Bring home its teachings to THE HEART,

Then birds and insects, shrubs and flowers Its touching eloquence impart. Then thou, delightful creature, who

Wert yesterday a sightly worm, Becomest a symbol fair and true

Of hopes that own no mortal term;

In thy proud change we see the germ
Of man's sublimer destiny,

While holiest oracles confirm
The type of immortality!
A change more glorious far than thine,

E’en I, thy fellow-worm, may know,
When this exhausted frame of mine

Down to its kindred dust shall go :

When the anxiety and woe
Of being's embryo state shall seem

Like phantoms fitting to and fro
In some confused and feverish dream.
For thee, who Aittest gaily now,

With all thy nature asks—supplied,
A few brief summer days, and thou
No more amid these haunts shalt glide,

As Hope's fair herald-in thy pride
The sylph-like genius of the scene,

But, sunk in dark oblivion's tide,
Shalt be-as thou hadst never been !
While Man's immortal part, when Time

Shall set the chainless spirit free,
May seek a brighter, happier clime
Than Fancy e'er could feign for thee :

Though bright her fairy bowers may be, Yet brief as bright their beauties fade,

And sad Experience mourns to see Each gourd Hope trusted in—decayed. But in those regions, calm and pure,

To which our holiest wishes cling, Joys, that eternally endure,

Shall bloom in everlasting Spring :

There seraph harps, of golden string,
Are vocal to the great I AM,

And souls redeemed their anthems sing
Of grateful praises to THE LAMB !
Shall they who here anticipate,

Through Faith's strong vision, eagle-eyed, Those joys immortal that await

Angelic spirits purified,

Shall such, however deeply tried,
E'er cast their glorious hopes away ?

Oh! be those hopes their heavenward guide,
Their stedfast anchor, and their stay.
Though many a flower that sweetly decked

Life's early path, but bloomed to fade ; Though sorrow, poverty, neglect

Now seem to wrap their souls in shade ;

Let these look upward, undismayed, From thorny paths, in anguish trod,

To regions where-in light arrayed, Still dwells their Saviour, and their God. Sport on then, lovely Summer-fly,

With whom began my votive strain :Yet purer joys their hopes supply,

Who, by Faith's alchemy, obtain

Comfort in sorrow, bliss in pain, Freedom in bondage, light in gloom,

Through earthly losses, heavenly gain, And LIFE IMMORTAL through THE TOMB.