Thoughts Upon The Four Last Things Death; Judgment; Heaven; and Hell. A Poem In Four Parts. The Second Edition. To which are added, The I, CIV, and CXXXVII Psalms Paraphras'd [by Joseph Trapp] |
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| IV. |
 | Thoughts Upon The Four Last Things |  |
With circulating Sap the Trees are fed;
Refresh'd with which, the Cedar rears its Head,
And lofty Firs their thriving Branches spread:
Which, moisten'd with invigorating Juice,
A fragrant Scent thro' Lebanon diffuse.
These to the Birds convenient Mansions yield,
Which in th'intangling Boughs their Eyries build.
The stately Stork here plants her Nest on high,
Disdains this lower Air, and seeks the Sky.
The shaggy Goats a hilly Refuge love,
Clamber the Cliffs, and o'er bleak Mountains rove.
O'er stony Rocks the sportive Conies play,
And on the ragged Flints their tender Offspring lay.
Refresh'd with which, the Cedar rears its Head,
And lofty Firs their thriving Branches spread:
Which, moisten'd with invigorating Juice,
A fragrant Scent thro' Lebanon diffuse.
These to the Birds convenient Mansions yield,
Which in th'intangling Boughs their Eyries build.
The stately Stork here plants her Nest on high,
Disdains this lower Air, and seeks the Sky.
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Clamber the Cliffs, and o'er bleak Mountains rove.
O'er stony Rocks the sportive Conies play,
And on the ragged Flints their tender Offspring lay.
Appointed by his Providential Care,
The changing Moon divides the circling Year;
Distinguishes the Seasons, rules the Night,
And fills her dusky Orb with borrow'd Light.
The Sun with Glory, fearless of Decay,
Rolls regular, and gives alternate Day.
By turns, He, entring, gilds the rosy East;
By turns, with setting Rays, he paints the West:
Then gloomy Night involves the Hemisphere,
And spreads dark Horrors o'er the dewy Air.
Then the wild Tenants of the desart Woods
Begin to move, and quit their warm Abodes:
For Prey the yawning Bears forsake their Holds,
And prouling Wolves explore th'unguarded Folds.
With raging Hunger pinch'd, the Lions roar,
Expand their Jaws, and range the Forest o'er:
Dreadfully suppliant, for their Meat they pray
To Heav'n, and savage Adoration pay.
But soon as Streaks of Light the East adorn,
And flying Mists confess the dawning Morn;
Back to their Dens the rav'nous Hunters speed
With their raw Booty, and at Leisure feed.
But when the Lion to his Rest repairs,
Laborious Mortals wake, and rise from Theirs;
To Care and Bus'ness they themselves address,
Begin with Morning, and with Ev'ning cease.
The changing Moon divides the circling Year;
Distinguishes the Seasons, rules the Night,
And fills her dusky Orb with borrow'd Light.
The Sun with Glory, fearless of Decay,
Rolls regular, and gives alternate Day.
By turns, He, entring, gilds the rosy East;
By turns, with setting Rays, he paints the West:
Then gloomy Night involves the Hemisphere,
And spreads dark Horrors o'er the dewy Air.
Then the wild Tenants of the desart Woods
Begin to move, and quit their warm Abodes:
For Prey the yawning Bears forsake their Holds,
And prouling Wolves explore th'unguarded Folds.
With raging Hunger pinch'd, the Lions roar,
Expand their Jaws, and range the Forest o'er:
Dreadfully suppliant, for their Meat they pray
To Heav'n, and savage Adoration pay.
But soon as Streaks of Light the East adorn,
And flying Mists confess the dawning Morn;
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With their raw Booty, and at Leisure feed.
But when the Lion to his Rest repairs,
Laborious Mortals wake, and rise from Theirs;
To Care and Bus'ness they themselves address,
Begin with Morning, and with Ev'ning cease.
How various, Lord, are all thy Works, which raise
Our Admiration, and transcend our Praise!
Wisely the World's great Fabrick was design'd,
And boundless Wisdom ev'ry Atom join'd.
With thy rich Bounty fill'd the Earth appears,
Which Food, and Physick, on its Surface bears;
And in its Bowels hides a wealthier Store;
Bright Veins of Gold, and Silver's glitt'ring Ore.
Our Admiration, and transcend our Praise!
Wisely the World's great Fabrick was design'd,
And boundless Wisdom ev'ry Atom join'd.
With thy rich Bounty fill'd the Earth appears,
Which Food, and Physick, on its Surface bears;
And in its Bowels hides a wealthier Store;
Bright Veins of Gold, and Silver's glitt'ring Ore.
Profuse of Blessings, with a lavish Hand,
Thou pour'st thy Gifts on Sea, as well as Land.
The vast unmeasur'd Kingdoms of the Main,
Copious Materials for thy Praise contain.
There scaly Monsters of enormous Size
Flounce in the Waves, and dash with Foam the Skies.
While Shoals innumerable, and the Fry
Of smaller Fish, glide unregarded by.
Others, in jointed shelly Armour, creep
Upon the Rocks, or seek the slimy Deep.
Here big with War, or Traffick, Vessels ride,
Driv'n by the Winds, and bound along the Tide.
There huge Leviathan, of cumb'rous Form,
Embroils the Sea in Sport, and breathes a Storm:
He sucks the briny Ocean at his Gills,
And his vast Maw with finny Nations fills;
Then laves the Clouds with salt, ascending Rain,
And with his spouting Trunk refunds the Main.
Thou pour'st thy Gifts on Sea, as well as Land.
The vast unmeasur'd Kingdoms of the Main,
Copious Materials for thy Praise contain.
There scaly Monsters of enormous Size
Flounce in the Waves, and dash with Foam the Skies.
While Shoals innumerable, and the Fry
Of smaller Fish, glide unregarded by.
Others, in jointed shelly Armour, creep
Upon the Rocks, or seek the slimy Deep.
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Driv'n by the Winds, and bound along the Tide.
There huge Leviathan, of cumb'rous Form,
Embroils the Sea in Sport, and breathes a Storm:
He sucks the briny Ocean at his Gills,
And his vast Maw with finny Nations fills;
Then laves the Clouds with salt, ascending Rain,
And with his spouting Trunk refunds the Main.
These all dependent on his Bounty live,
And from his Providence their Meat receive.
His open'd Hand profusely scatters Food,
Which pleas'd they gather, and are fill'd with Good.
But when his Hand is shut, the Creatures mourn,
'Till his withdrawn Beneficence return.
When his Command puts out their Vital Flame,
They moulder to the Dust, from whence they came;
Then to repair the Loss sustain'd by Death,
He gives new Life, with his inspiring Breath,
To Forms, which from the vast Material Mass
Are still wrought off, and so renews the Race.
Thus a successive Offspring He supplies,
And th'undecaying Species never dies.
And from his Providence their Meat receive.
His open'd Hand profusely scatters Food,
Which pleas'd they gather, and are fill'd with Good.
But when his Hand is shut, the Creatures mourn,
'Till his withdrawn Beneficence return.
When his Command puts out their Vital Flame,
They moulder to the Dust, from whence they came;
Then to repair the Loss sustain'd by Death,
He gives new Life, with his inspiring Breath,
To Forms, which from the vast Material Mass
Are still wrought off, and so renews the Race.
Thus a successive Offspring He supplies,
And th'undecaying Species never dies.
No Bounds th'Eternal's Glory can restrain,
Nor Time's Dimensions terminate his Reign.
From his bright Regions of celestial Day,
He with Complacence shall his Works survey.
At his Reproof convulsive Nature shakes,
And shudd'ring Earth from its Foundation quakes:
His awful Touch the quiv'ring Mountains rends,
And curling Smoak in spiry Clouds ascends.
Nor Time's Dimensions terminate his Reign.
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He with Complacence shall his Works survey.
At his Reproof convulsive Nature shakes,
And shudd'ring Earth from its Foundation quakes:
His awful Touch the quiv'ring Mountains rends,
And curling Smoak in spiry Clouds ascends.
For me, while unextinguish'd Life maintains
Heat in my Blood, and Pulses in my Veins,
His wond'rous Works shall animate my Song,
Exalt my Thoughts, and dwell upon my Tongue.
While on Rebellious Foes his Vengeance hurl'd
Confounds their Pride, and sweeps them from the World;
His Glory shall my ravish'd Soul inspire,
And to the gay Creation tune my Lyre:
That imitates, in various-sounding Lays,
Th'Harmonious Discord which it strives to praise.
Heat in my Blood, and Pulses in my Veins,
His wond'rous Works shall animate my Song,
Exalt my Thoughts, and dwell upon my Tongue.
While on Rebellious Foes his Vengeance hurl'd
Confounds their Pride, and sweeps them from the World;
His Glory shall my ravish'd Soul inspire,
And to the gay Creation tune my Lyre:
That imitates, in various-sounding Lays,
Th'Harmonious Discord which it strives to praise.
| Thoughts Upon The Four Last Things | |