Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761

While inconsiderate here I play
The uncertain Trifle, Life, away,
Let me indulge a solemn Hour,
And view the Race of Adam o'er;
On Contemplation's Pinions rove
To Worlds below and Worlds above.

What different Scenes around me rise!
What different Prospects strike mine Eyes!
What strange, what various Characters
The self-same human Nature wears!

1. I. Part. HEAVEN.

See in the fair celestial Plains,
Releas'd from Sin, and Death, and Pains,
How, clad in Robes of Light Divine,
Human Immortals glorious shine!
The mean, inglorious Sons of Earth,
With Angels of celestial Birth,
On Ever-Green, in blissful Bow'rs,
Pass their eternal social Hours.
No more expos'd to lurking Snares,
No more perplext with trifling Cares,
No more the eager starving Mind
Would feed on Vanity and Wind;
But Chrystal Springs of Pleasure burst,
And gently flow, and quench the Thirst.
The Tree of Life luxuriant spreads
Its fragrant Shade above their Heads;
And shook with gentle Breezes, pours
Its Fruits around in golden Show'rs.
Still eager, still uncloy'd, the Blest
Th' immortalizing Apples taste.
Grim Death with all his ghastly Train
Attempts to enter there in vain,
Heart-bursting Groans and heaving Sighs
No more attempt to swell and rise.

But Oh! the higher Joys they feel!
Immortal, pure, ineffable!
While the bright Deity displays
The unveil'd Glories of his Face:

While, lost in Wonder still, they see
The God that bled upon the Tree?
Fir'd with immortal Transports rove
O'er all the Wonders of his Love:
Unweary'd the dear Theme pursue;
Still view'd, yet still beyond their View:
From Wonders still to Wonders rise,
'Til lost in vast Infinities:
Dazzled with sweet Excess of Light,
For strong Seraphic Eyes too bright.
Their Knowledge brightens more and more;
And what they know not, they adore.
The high celestial Arches ring
With Hallelujahs while they sing;
The Hills, the Dales, the Fountains round
With sweetest Harmony resound.

Say, my bright kindred Spirits, say,
Dare an Inhabitant of Clay,
Direct his Hope and wishful Eye,
To share with you in Joys on high?
Hope in some humble Place to sit
Amongst your Thrones, or at your Feet?
Or does his flagrant Guilt deny
Th' Ambition of a Wish so high?

Once You, in dull Mortality,
Were struggling and opprest, like me;
Allur'd with tempting Vanities,
And the false World's ensnaring Lies:
Unruly Passions in your Hearts;
Wounded with Satan's fiery Darts:
Thro' thousand Dangers fought your Way;
Trembling to fall a helpless Prey.

Trembling to lose the glorious Prize,
You now enjoy above the Skies.

Say, Human Angels! by what Art
Did you subdue th' unruly Heart?
O'er the ensnaring World prevail,
And all the Stratagems of Hell?
O! tell me whence your Vict'ry came?—
And was it from the bleeding Lamb!—
Blest Jesus! be my Guide, my Strength;
And I shall triumph too at length.

O! did the Sons of Men below,
The perfect Bliss above but know;
O could they dart a piercing Eye
Thro' the blue Curtains of the Sky;
And view in what Perfection there
Some of their Family appear;
To what Degrees an human Mind,
May be exalted and refin'd;
How would they nobly soar, and spurn
This Earth, and all its Trifles scorn;
With brave Ambition Heav'nward aim,
And all inferior Joys disclaim;
Gen'rous break thro' the narrow Rounds
Of Time and all created Bounds;
Break thro', and wing'd with strong Desire,
To pure celestial Joys aspire!

But they, alas! with sordid Aim,
All Kindred with the Skies disclaim:
Ignobly sink the heav'n-born Mind
To Pleasures of the brutal Kind.

Eternal God! erect our Souls;
Nor let them grovel here like Moles.
O! teach a downward World to rise;
And seek to gain their native Skies.

All Mankind are represented in this Poem as one great Family; and Heaven, Earth, and the infernal Regions as so many Colonies, peopled by its wide Dispersions.

Rev. xii. 11.

2. II. Part. HELL.

But Oh!—what dismal Scenes of Woe
Open in yonder Gulph below!
See! how the fiery Surges swell,
And dash against the Cope of Hell.
The sulph'rous undulating Flames
Thro' the thick Gloom shed awful Gleams;
Pale Gleams that but expose to Sight
The Horrors of eternal Night.
Ah! there, forever, ever lost,
On these dire Billows ever tost,
Some of my wretched Kindred roar,
Feeling the Flames they scorn'd before.
When Mercy call'd, they would not turn;
Now Mercy frowns, and they must burn.
Now Justice makes the Rebels feel
The Tortures of the restless Wheel.
Now nail'd to Racks of endless Pain,
They cry for some Relief in vain.
Deep Groans and Screams torment the Air,
The horrid Language of Despair.
The Vulture, Conscience, preys within;
Once charming, now tormenting Sin
In all her hellish Colours glares,
And pays her Slaves the long Arrears
For all the painful Drudgery done—
Sad Wages! worse by far than none.

Ah! how they writhe, and agonize!
How wildly stare their flaming Eyes!
No Heart can think, no Language tell,
No Fancy paint the Pains they feel.

Yet in their greatest Pains they own
The Justice of th' Eternal Throne.
“Justice! all Justice! still they cry;
“By our own Folly here we lie.
“Where should we lie but in this Pit,
“Who made ourselves for Heav'n unfit?
“Alas! should Heav'n her Gates display,
“And take us to the Realms of Day;
“We Sons of Darkness, back to Night
“Would shrink, confounded with the Sight.
“And in these Glooms make our Abode,
“Rather than see a holy God.
“While sinful Passions rule our Breast,
“Not Heav'n itself can make us blest.
“Impossible we should be sav'd,
“While thus corrupted and deprav'd.
“Nor do these raging Flames refine
“Our Spirits from the Dross of Sin;
“But still we harden in the Fire,
“And still our Lusts new Strength acquire,
“The Bliss we would not have, we lose;
“And have the Portion that we chose.”

O! did surviving Mortals know
The Pains their Kindred feel below;
O! did they know the dire Reward
For all the Slaves of Sin prepar'd;
How would they shrink from Vice's Charms,
And thrust the Monster from their Arms!
The smooth broad Road with Trembling shun,
Where Thousands walk'd, and were undone!

At the loud Call of Mercy stop,
And eager catch the offer'd Hope!

But all these real Terrors seem
But frightful Tales and Dreams to them.
Their Fellow-Sinners die around;
They lay their Reliques in the Ground:
The ghastly Corpse they only view,
But Oh! could they the Soul pursue;
Pursue her t'other Side of Death,
To her eternal Home beneath;
What Terrors would alarm the Heart!
How would the thoughtless Sinner start!
What Fear the Hypocrite surprize,
And tear away his base Disguise!

Or might abandon'd Ghosts again
Visit the Earth, and talk with Men:
Might they in human Ears proclaim
The Torture of infernal Flame:
In Characters majestic draw
The Honours of th' insulted Law:
Sin and its heavy Punishment
In their infernal Colours paint:
With flaming Tongues aloud expose,
The crying scarlet Guilt of those
Who dare neglect a dying God,
And trifle with redeeming Blood:
How would a sleeping World awake,
And conscious Guilt confounded quake!
Security should take th' Alarm,
And shudder at th' impending Harm.
Hardy Prophaneness learn to shrink;
And thoughtless Luxury to think.
Misers no more with Gold bewitch'd,
Should damn themselves to be enrich'd.

No more the Proud for empty Fame,
Should sink in everlasting Shame.
No more th' insulted Heavens should hear
The dull Formality of Prayer;
But flaming high, Devotion's Fire
In Zeal importunate aspire.
Spiritless Breath and languid Zeal
No more eternal Truths reveal;
Nor cold Harangues, or Trifles vain,
The solemn Pulpit more prophane.
The Thunders of the Law should sound,
And hardy Sinners tremble round:
Jesus allure with winning Charms
Despairing Sinners to his Arms.

So Fancy dreams.—But if the Law
Fails to inspire a pious Awe,
And even the Gospel cannot draw;
In vain Apostles from the Dead
Might Thunder Wrath, and urge and plead:
In vain infernal Messengers
Would try t' alarm presumptuous Ears.
The trembling Fright would soon be o'er,
And all ascrib'd to Fancy's Pow'r.
Or frequent Apparitions grow
Familiar, and be treated so.

A Dungeon horrible, on all Sides round,
As one great Furnace flam'd; yet from those Flames
No Light, but rather Darkness visible
Serv'd only to discover Sights of Woe.—
Par. Lost. B. 1. l. 60.

3. III. Part. EARTH.

Now to the Earth I turn my Eyes:
And strange! what diff'rent Prospects rise!
Here Honour glitters, Riches shine,
And Pleasure's various Forms combine:
There meagre Poverty, Disgrace,
And sullen Griefs usurp the Place.

Here Health her blooming Visage shews
Clad in the Lilly and the Rose:
There Sickness groans and pines in Bed,
And scarcely lifts his fainting Head.
Here the unthinking jovial Crowd
Dissolve in Mirth, and laugh aloud;
While Music all her Charms employs
To lull their Cares, and wake their Joys:
But hark! how Melancholy moans,
And solitary Sorrow groans,
Here Luxury her Table spreads,
And, squeamish, on her Dainties feeds:
There Hunger gnaws, and starving Want
Unpity'd vents his vain Complaint.
Prophaneness lifts her impious Eyes,
And mocks the Thunder of the Skies;
Presumes with daring Tongue invoke
The Vengeance of the ling'ring Stroke:
While here and there a pious Sigh,
And humble Pray'r ascend the Sky;
Jehovah hears, and with a Smile
Lays the dread Thunder by awhile.
The Ways of Vice are still pursu'd
By the triumphant Multitude;
Sin high-applauded walks the Street,
And tramples Virtue with his Feet
Yet an unfashionable Few
Virtue's untrodden Path pursue.
These are the Pillars of the Land,
And by their Pray'rs whole Nations stand,
When they are gone, Wrath shall be hurl'd
To blast and burn a guilty World.

Some now receive the vital Breath
Some gasping in the Pangs of Death,

Some landing on th' eternal Shore,
The Dangers of Life's Ocean o'er;
While others ent'ring on the Stage
Of Life, begin their youthful Age.

The Conclusion.

But who can tell the various Views,
The various Projects Man pursues?
The States, Conditions, Characters,
In which Humanity appears?

O! were our narrow Views more wide,
Did human Race our Cares divide;
The tender social Tear would rise;
The social Bosom sympathize.
The Heart of Charity would bleed,
And round her gentle Influence shed.
Benevolence would open wide
The generous Wish, to none depy'd.
Nay, Vice appal'd in her Career,
Should feel Remorse and drop a Tear.
Oppression break her Rod of Steel,
And senseless Tyrants Pity feel.

University of Virginia Library

XV. A Survey of human Nature.

The Introduction.

1. I. Part. HEAVEN.

2. II. Part. HELL.

3. III. Part. EARTH.

The Conclusion.