Philomela :: :: University of Virginia Library

Who cou'd, and yet out-live th' amazing Sight!
O! who could stand the Stress of so much Light!
Amidst the Golden Lamps the Vision stood,
Form'd like a Man, with all the Awe and Lustre of a God.

II

A Kingly Vesture cloath'd him to the Ground,
And Radiant Gold his sacred Breasts surround;

But all too thin the Deity to shroud;
For heav'nly Rays expresly shone thro' the unable Cloud.

III

His Head, his aweful Head was grac'd with Hair,
As soft as Snow, as melted Silver fair;
And from his Eyes such active Glories flow,
The conscious Seraphs well may veil their dimmer Faces to.

IV

His Feet were strong, and dreadful as his Port,
Worthy the God-like Form they did support;
His Voice resembled the Majestic Fall
Of mighty Waves: 'Twas aweful, great, divine, and solemn all.

V

His pow'rful Hand a Starry Scepter held,
His Mouth a threatning two-edg'd Sword did wield,

His Face so wondrous, so divinely fair,
As all the glorious Lights above had been contracted there.

VI

And now my fainting Spirits strove in vain
The uncorrected Splendor to sustain,
Unable longer such bright Rays to meet,
I dy'd beneath the pond'rous Load, at the great Vision's Feet.

VII

Till he who does the Springs of Life contain,
Breath'd back my Soul, and bid me live again;
And thus began (but O! with such an Air,
That nothing but a Power divine had made me live to hear.)

VIII

From unperceivable Eternity
I was, I am, and must for ever be:

I have been dead, but live for ever now.
Amen—And have in Triumph led the Kings of Darkness too.