 | The complete works, poetry and prose, of the Rev. Edward Young prefixed, a life of the author, by John Doran ... With eight illustrations on steel, and a portrait. In two volumes |  |
Where am I rapt by this triumphant theme,
On Christian joy's exulting wing, above
The' Aonian mount?—Alas, small cause for joy!
What, if to pain immortal? if extent
Of being, to preclude a close of woe?
Where, then, my boast of immortality?
I boast it still, though cover'd o'er with guilt:
For guilt, not innocence, His life He pour'd;
'Tis guilt alone can justify His death;
Nor that, unless His death can justify
Relenting guilt in Heaven's indulgent sight.
If, sick of folly, I relent, He writes
My name in heaven with that inverted spear
(A spear deep dipp'd in blood!) which pierced His side,
And open'd there a font for all mankind
Who strive, who combat crimes, to drink and live
This, only this, subdues the fear of death.
On Christian joy's exulting wing, above
The' Aonian mount?—Alas, small cause for joy!
What, if to pain immortal? if extent
Of being, to preclude a close of woe?
Where, then, my boast of immortality?
I boast it still, though cover'd o'er with guilt:
For guilt, not innocence, His life He pour'd;
'Tis guilt alone can justify His death;
Nor that, unless His death can justify
Relenting guilt in Heaven's indulgent sight.
If, sick of folly, I relent, He writes
My name in heaven with that inverted spear
(A spear deep dipp'd in blood!) which pierced His side,
And open'd there a font for all mankind
Who strive, who combat crimes, to drink and live
This, only this, subdues the fear of death.
| The complete works, poetry and prose, of the Rev. Edward Young prefixed, a life of the author, by John Doran ... With eight illustrations on steel, and a portrait. In two volumes | |