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CHAPTER 13th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
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But their blest Prince possesses wealthier Worth
Than all the haughty Potentates on Earth!
Not only all that fluid Ocean fills,
And countless Cattle on Earth's Plains, and Hills—
Nor only all its furnish'd lap unfolds—
All Gems and Ores its hidden bosom holds;
But all the thousands that compose the throngs
Of numerous Nations, and of untold Tongues,
With all their mental pow'rs, and corporal might;
Ev'n all their Sceptres, and their sovereign Right!
Yet He His best-Belov'd but rarely lifts
To risque the dangers of such dazzling Gifts,
But making most oft sharp experience feel
Of pains and sorrows for their future weal—
Of mockery—spite—yea, every shape of Woe,
His human Soul sustain'd for Man below,
To purge their Spirits from foul earthly leav'n,
And fit for liberty, and bliss, in Heav'n!
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CHAPTER 13th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
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