 | Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761 |  |
117
THE APPENDIX
Devout EJACULATIONS and SOLILOQUIES.
[No. I. No! never, never can this Heart]
No! never, never can this Heart
From Thee her God, her All, depart.
Indulge my Boldness; I protest
In Thee alone I must be blest;
I'm fixt, resolv'dly fixt, in this
Thyself, or nought shall be my Bliss:
I swear by the eternal Three,
I will accept no Bliss but Thee.
Put me not off with golden Toys,
With empty Honours, sensual Joys.
O! do not thy poor Servant doom
To Crowns and Empires in Thy Room.
I loath the Happiness that springs
From these and all created Things,
Sooner may Gold or Dust asswage
The parched Pilgrim's thirsty Rage,
When under torrid Lybian Skies,
On burning Sands, he faints and dies:
Sooner, than these inferior Toys
Can fill me with substantial Joys.
From Thee her God, her All, depart.
Indulge my Boldness; I protest
In Thee alone I must be blest;
I'm fixt, resolv'dly fixt, in this
Thyself, or nought shall be my Bliss:
I swear by the eternal Three,
I will accept no Bliss but Thee.
Put me not off with golden Toys,
With empty Honours, sensual Joys.
O! do not thy poor Servant doom
To Crowns and Empires in Thy Room.
I loath the Happiness that springs
From these and all created Things,
Sooner may Gold or Dust asswage
The parched Pilgrim's thirsty Rage,
When under torrid Lybian Skies,
On burning Sands, he faints and dies:
Sooner, than these inferior Toys
Can fill me with substantial Joys.
Since of Thy Love I tasted first,
All other Pleasures I disgust:
Since first Thy Beauties charm'd my Sight,
Created Charms yield no Delight.
All other Pleasures I disgust:
Since first Thy Beauties charm'd my Sight,
Created Charms yield no Delight.
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O! if I'm doom'd Thy Frowns to feel,
Why didst Thou e'er Thy Smiles reveal?
Why with Thy Glories charm my Eye,
If I must see and ne'er enjoy?
O! why torment me with the Views
Of Bliss I must for ever lose?
Why didst Thou e'er Thy Smiles reveal?
Why with Thy Glories charm my Eye,
If I must see and ne'er enjoy?
O! why torment me with the Views
Of Bliss I must for ever lose?
O! if I must for ever dwell
Absent from Thee, why did not Hell
Devour me, e'er I felt this Flame?
This ardent Passion to Thy Name?
Then had my Soul ne'er understood
The Loss of an infinite Good;
Nor languish'd in eternal Pain,
Pleasures once tasted to regain;
Nor in tormenting Anguish pin'd
To call Thy once felt Smiles to Mind.
Absent from Thee, why did not Hell
Devour me, e'er I felt this Flame?
This ardent Passion to Thy Name?
Then had my Soul ne'er understood
The Loss of an infinite Good;
Nor languish'd in eternal Pain,
Pleasures once tasted to regain;
Nor in tormenting Anguish pin'd
To call Thy once felt Smiles to Mind.
But hence each dire Surmise! away!
My gracious God would not display
His Glories to enflame my Heart,
If I were destin'd to depart.
He would not cruelly deride
My Soul with Bliss to be deny'd;
Nor kindle Love to pant in vain,
And rack me with augmented Pain.
No! His own Self will satisfy
The Wishes He has rais'd so high.
My gracious God would not display
His Glories to enflame my Heart,
If I were destin'd to depart.
He would not cruelly deride
My Soul with Bliss to be deny'd;
Nor kindle Love to pant in vain,
And rack me with augmented Pain.
No! His own Self will satisfy
The Wishes He has rais'd so high.
[No II. And must I call these Passions mine]
And must I call these Passions mine
That feel so faintly Charms divine?
And must I own this useless Soul,
To Thee so languid, cold and dull?
I would, my God, call nothing mine
But what is wholly, solely Thine.
That feel so faintly Charms divine?
And must I own this useless Soul,
To Thee so languid, cold and dull?
I would, my God, call nothing mine
But what is wholly, solely Thine.
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[No. III. Life's but a Load, a tedious Pain]
Life's but a Load, a tedious Pain,
A Curse, if I must live in vain.
Shall I my Hours inactive spend?
Or thus be active to no End?
O Thou who didst these Pow'rs infuse,
Exalt them to a noble Use.
Direct my Thinking Faculty
No more to rove, but fix on Thee:
Allure my Will Thyself to chuse,
And all inferior Good refuse!
O! teach my Passions to aspire
To Thee, and burn with heav'nly Fire?
My Conscience to perform its Part
On Thy Tribunal in my Heart!
My Tongue to celebrate Thy Grace,
And every Breath to utter Praise;
My Eyes to see Thy Glories shine
Thro' this fair Universe of Thine;
My Ears to hear with rapt'rous Joys,
The charming Music of Thy Voice:
This Spark of weak poetic Fire
Refine, and teach it to aspire:
Let all I have, and all I am
Be sacred to Thy glorious Name,
Thus train me to th' Employ above,
Ere to these Regions I remove.
A Curse, if I must live in vain.
Shall I my Hours inactive spend?
Or thus be active to no End?
O Thou who didst these Pow'rs infuse,
Exalt them to a noble Use.
Direct my Thinking Faculty
No more to rove, but fix on Thee:
Allure my Will Thyself to chuse,
And all inferior Good refuse!
O! teach my Passions to aspire
To Thee, and burn with heav'nly Fire?
My Conscience to perform its Part
On Thy Tribunal in my Heart!
My Tongue to celebrate Thy Grace,
And every Breath to utter Praise;
My Eyes to see Thy Glories shine
Thro' this fair Universe of Thine;
My Ears to hear with rapt'rous Joys,
The charming Music of Thy Voice:
This Spark of weak poetic Fire
Refine, and teach it to aspire:
Let all I have, and all I am
Be sacred to Thy glorious Name,
Thus train me to th' Employ above,
Ere to these Regions I remove.
[No. IV. My God! I'm pleas'd that Thou art All in All]
My God! I'm pleas'd that Thou art All in All,
Should Nature totter, and to Nothing fall.
My Being sprung from thy creative Breath,
And on Thy Will depend my Life and Death.
Let Heav'n, Earth, Men and Angels cease to Be,
I've Bliss enough, I've all I wish in Thee;
Thy single Self's compleat Felicity.
I'm happy, since my God must always live,
Tho' Vanity is my Prerogative.
This Spark of Being Homage pays to Thee,
Thou boundless Fountain of all Entity;
Rejoices in the unbounded Plenitude
Of Thy Perfections, Thou infinite Good!
Should Nature totter, and to Nothing fall.
My Being sprung from thy creative Breath,
And on Thy Will depend my Life and Death.
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I've Bliss enough, I've all I wish in Thee;
Thy single Self's compleat Felicity.
I'm happy, since my God must always live,
Tho' Vanity is my Prerogative.
This Spark of Being Homage pays to Thee,
Thou boundless Fountain of all Entity;
Rejoices in the unbounded Plenitude
Of Thy Perfections, Thou infinite Good!
[No. V. Oh! be Thy glorious Name exalted high]
Oh! be Thy glorious Name exalted high,
Thro' all the Spaces of Immensity.
Let the wide World, let Heav'n and Earth and Hell,
In various Ways, Thy wond'rous Glory tell,
And thy unbounded Excellence reveal.
O! raise me to the blissful Realms on high,
Not to be glorify'd, but glorify;
Not to be honour'd, but to honour Thee,
Not there to reign, but bow th' adoring Knee.
Give me a Crown, to cast before Thy Feet,
Raise me, to bow the lower at Thy Seat.
Exalt and dignify a groveling Worm,
An humbler Adoration to perform;
For while my Situation is so low,
I cannot with profound Prostration bow.
Thro' all the Spaces of Immensity.
Let the wide World, let Heav'n and Earth and Hell,
In various Ways, Thy wond'rous Glory tell,
And thy unbounded Excellence reveal.
O! raise me to the blissful Realms on high,
Not to be glorify'd, but glorify;
Not to be honour'd, but to honour Thee,
Not there to reign, but bow th' adoring Knee.
Give me a Crown, to cast before Thy Feet,
Raise me, to bow the lower at Thy Seat.
Exalt and dignify a groveling Worm,
An humbler Adoration to perform;
For while my Situation is so low,
I cannot with profound Prostration bow.
[No. VI. That I'm the vilest Sinner, Lord! I own]
That I'm the vilest Sinner, Lord! I own
In penitent Prostration at Thy Throne;
Worthy an endless Monument to be
To thousand Worlds not to revolt from Thee:
But did not Jesus die? This is my Plea;
And has that charming Name no Force with Thee?
Insult my Groans, reject my loudest Cries;
But Oh! canst Thou the Saviour's Blood despise?
Say, are my Crimes to such a Vastness grown,
That ev'n the Blood of Jesus can't atone?
O no! then let Thy boundless Mercy shine
With Splendors equal to these Crimes of mine.
In penitent Prostration at Thy Throne;
Worthy an endless Monument to be
To thousand Worlds not to revolt from Thee:
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And has that charming Name no Force with Thee?
Insult my Groans, reject my loudest Cries;
But Oh! canst Thou the Saviour's Blood despise?
Say, are my Crimes to such a Vastness grown,
That ev'n the Blood of Jesus can't atone?
O no! then let Thy boundless Mercy shine
With Splendors equal to these Crimes of mine.
But if Thou doom me from Thy blissful Sight,
And frowning say, “I've in him no Delight;
“Lo, here I am!” —But oh! the most undone
And wretched Thing Omniscience e'er has known.
The Thought is Death! 'tis Hell! my Spirits break!
I'm overwhelm'd!—I'm lost!—I cannot speak!
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
And frowning say, “I've in him no Delight;
“Lo, here I am!” —But oh! the most undone
And wretched Thing Omniscience e'er has known.
The Thought is Death! 'tis Hell! my Spirits break!
I'm overwhelm'd!—I'm lost!—I cannot speak!
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[No. VII. Repulse me not; for whither shall I flee?]
Repulse me not; for whither shall I flee?
The Words of Life are found alone with Thee.
Here slay me at Thy Feet, if die I must;
Dying, in Thee I'll fix my humble Trust:
Dying, erect my Eyes to Thee in Pray'r,
And in a suppliant Agony expire.
The Words of Life are found alone with Thee.
Here slay me at Thy Feet, if die I must;
Dying, in Thee I'll fix my humble Trust:
Dying, erect my Eyes to Thee in Pray'r,
And in a suppliant Agony expire.
Repulse me not; 'tis in my Saviour's Name,
Not in my own, Thy Grace I humbly claim:
And when in that prevailing Name I pray,
Thou art oblig'd, Thou canst not say me nay.
Hast Thou not bound Thyself with Thy own Mouth,
In the Engagements of eternal Truth?
And shall Hell's Pow'rs have Umbrage to blaspheme
Thy sacred Truth, and charge Thy spotless Name
With Breach of Faith? No! Thy Veracity
Shall shine from all infernal Censure free,
Exemplify'd, in Thy good Time, in me.
Thou wilt not let me seek Thy Face in vain,
Sigh to the Rocks, and to the Winds complain.
The Blessings Grace does wisely now deny,
Thou wilt in the most proper Hour supply.
Not in my own, Thy Grace I humbly claim:
And when in that prevailing Name I pray,
Thou art oblig'd, Thou canst not say me nay.
Hast Thou not bound Thyself with Thy own Mouth,
In the Engagements of eternal Truth?
And shall Hell's Pow'rs have Umbrage to blaspheme
Thy sacred Truth, and charge Thy spotless Name
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Shall shine from all infernal Censure free,
Exemplify'd, in Thy good Time, in me.
Thou wilt not let me seek Thy Face in vain,
Sigh to the Rocks, and to the Winds complain.
The Blessings Grace does wisely now deny,
Thou wilt in the most proper Hour supply.
[No. VIII. Ah! what avail these warm poetic Strains]
Ah! what avail these warm poetic Strains,
These feigned Raptures of the fawning Muse
If cold and languid still my Heart remains,
And my soft Passions to concur refuse?
These feigned Raptures of the fawning Muse
If cold and languid still my Heart remains,
And my soft Passions to concur refuse?
O! if I love Thee not, I'm self-condemned,
This Hand the Sentence has transcrib'd and seal'd;
Thee Greatest, Loveliest, Best, I've oft proclaim'd,
And Thy unrivall'd Glories oft reveal'd.
This Hand the Sentence has transcrib'd and seal'd;
Thee Greatest, Loveliest, Best, I've oft proclaim'd,
And Thy unrivall'd Glories oft reveal'd.
And am I still a Stranger to Thy Face?
Are these extatic Flights affected Zeal?
Forbid it Heav'n! or mine's the direst Case
Of any perjur'd Wretch on this Side Hell.
Are these extatic Flights affected Zeal?
Forbid it Heav'n! or mine's the direst Case
Of any perjur'd Wretch on this Side Hell.
O! let the Flame of pure Devotion rise
Above the Muse's most exalted Flight;
And mingle with the Ardors of the Skies;
While my poor Lays in vain attempt the Height.
Above the Muse's most exalted Flight;
And mingle with the Ardors of the Skies;
While my poor Lays in vain attempt the Height.
[No. IX. Why should I, in the Rage of wild Despair]
Why should I, in the Rage of wild Despair
And Agony, my Flesh thus gnaw and tear?
Why sink desponding under hopeless Grief,
And in my trembling Hand repose my doubtful Life?
And Agony, my Flesh thus gnaw and tear?
Why sink desponding under hopeless Grief,
And in my trembling Hand repose my doubtful Life?
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O say, my God, may not a Sinner dare
Confide in Thee, and sooth his wild Despair?
O yes! Tho' Thou shouldst crush me in the Dust
Like some vile Poison, still in Thee I'll trust,
In Thee I'll trust, hope in Thy gracious Word,
Tho' Thou should'st slay me with Thy vengeful Sword.
Confide in Thee, and sooth his wild Despair?
O yes! Tho' Thou shouldst crush me in the Dust
Like some vile Poison, still in Thee I'll trust,
In Thee I'll trust, hope in Thy gracious Word,
Tho' Thou should'st slay me with Thy vengeful Sword.
But oh! so mean a Worm's beneath Thy Wrath;
Unworthy by Thy Hands to suffer Death;
Beneath a Look of Thy avenging Eye,
Of Thy immense, exalted Majesty.
Unworthy by Thy Hands to suffer Death;
Beneath a Look of Thy avenging Eye,
Of Thy immense, exalted Majesty.
Ah! will Thy God-like Vengeance condescend
A fleeting Leaf, the Sport of Winds, to rend?
Or will the Majesty of Justice claim
A wretched Victim of so mean a Name;
And of dry Stubble form a feeble Flame?
A fleeting Leaf, the Sport of Winds, to rend?
Or will the Majesty of Justice claim
A wretched Victim of so mean a Name;
And of dry Stubble form a feeble Flame?
[No. X. Though luscious Figs no more shall bloom and grow]
Though luscious Figs no more shall bloom and grow,Nor bending Vines with juicy Clusters glow;
Though the fat Olive should our Hopes beguile,
And burst no more with usual Floods of Oil;
Though Barrenness should blast the fertile Field,
And Earth no more her vital Fatness yield;
Though Death should plunder every crouded Stall,
And Flocks and Herds in common Ruin fall;
Though meager Famine stalk across the Land,
And tear our Blessing from our grasping Hand.
In Thee, my God, I'm blest, I'm happy still;
Nor should the Loss of these vain Trifles feel,
But at the gen'ral Devastation smile.
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But without Thee, how poor a Portion these!
[No. XI. Yes! soon the iron Hand of Death]
1.
Yes! soon the iron Hand of DeathMust seize my Frame, and stop my Breath,
And snatch my Soul away.
Methinks I feel its Agonies—
Anhelant, panting, struggling lies
The agonizing Clay.
2.
Suffus'd with mortal clammy Sweat,Irregular the Pulses beat;
The Lips hang quiv'ring down;
The Eyes, depress'd and hollow, swim
In dizzy Mists; the vital Stream
Laggs in its mazy Round.
3.
A deadly Cold from every PartBenumbs my Limbs, invades my Heart;
I feel it creeping on!
A ghastly Pale deforms my Cheeks;
And now my falling Jaws relax;
And now I'm gone! I'm gone!
4.
In a deep Groan the Spirit flies,Unfetter'd by the former Ties
Of cumb'rous Flesh and Blood—
But, oh! my Soul, what unknown Place
Through the Immensity of Space
Shall be thy last Abode?
5.
'Till this important Doubt is solv'd,My Soul in anxious Fears involv'd,
No solid Rest can know;
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Compar'd to everlasting Joys,
Or everlasting Woe?
6.
Oh, when I bid the World adieu,Should Guilt, the Fury, still pursue—
Shocking, o'erwhelming Thought!
Or should th' infernal Tyrant, Sin,
Forever reign and rage within—
Intolerable Lot!
7.
Great God, though one continu'd CloudMy fleeting Day of Life should shroud,
Yet be my Evening clear!
Horror my shudd'ring Soul invades
To enter Death's tremendous Shades,
If Thou be absent there
8.
Be Witness Heaven; I here protestMy Mind shall never, never rest
'Till I Thy Presence gain.
I'll pray away my vital Breath,
Begging Thy gracious Smiles in Death;
Nor cease 'till I obtain.
[No. XII. Oh! while eternal Ages roll]
Oh! while eternal Ages roll,
Be Thou supreme, above Controul!
Be absolute! Thy sovereign Will
Be done! for oh! 'tis righteous still.
Thy Favours where thou wilt, dispense;
With calm, implicit Confidence,
I own Thy Reasons just and good,
Ev'n where they are not understood
By cavilling Wit. Oh! be Thy Will
The Rule of Thy Procedure still.
Though perverse Mortals, blind and vain,
Thy Dispensations dare arraign;
Yet self-approv'd, self-guided, rule
Th' Affairs of this dependent Whole:
No do Thou stoop to satisfy
The haughty Worms that ask Thee why.
Be Thou supreme, above Controul!
Be absolute! Thy sovereign Will
Be done! for oh! 'tis righteous still.
Thy Favours where thou wilt, dispense;
With calm, implicit Confidence,
I own Thy Reasons just and good,
Ev'n where they are not understood
By cavilling Wit. Oh! be Thy Will
The Rule of Thy Procedure still.
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Thy Dispensations dare arraign;
Yet self-approv'd, self-guided, rule
Th' Affairs of this dependent Whole:
No do Thou stoop to satisfy
The haughty Worms that ask Thee why.
For me, behold I helpless stand
At the Disposal of Thy Hand:
A Piece of mean polluted Clay,
Thou may'st chuse or cast away:
Thou may'st absolve my flagrant Guilt,
Or bind it on me, as Thou wilt.
Though Thou should'st blast me with Thy Frown,
Thy sovereign Justice I must own,
Thy Justice I must still acquit,
Against myself Thine Advocate.
At the Disposal of Thy Hand:
A Piece of mean polluted Clay,
Thou may'st chuse or cast away:
Thou may'st absolve my flagrant Guilt,
Or bind it on me, as Thou wilt.
Though Thou should'st blast me with Thy Frown,
Thy sovereign Justice I must own,
Thy Justice I must still acquit,
Against myself Thine Advocate.
But (Oh! how shall I praise Thy Name!)
Submission here Thou dost not claim:
The Wheels of Duty and Self-Love
In the same Tract harmonious move,
Thy dread Authority requires
Me to escape eternal Fires:
Thy Law commands me to be blest;
My Duty is my Interest.
My Mis'ry is my wilful Sin,
Forbid by that kind Will of Thine.
Submission here Thou dost not claim:
The Wheels of Duty and Self-Love
In the same Tract harmonious move,
Thy dread Authority requires
Me to escape eternal Fires:
Thy Law commands me to be blest;
My Duty is my Interest.
My Mis'ry is my wilful Sin,
Forbid by that kind Will of Thine.
Accomplish then Thy sovereign Will,
For oh! 'tis good and righteous still.
Thou'rt just, whate'er become of me,
And all Thy Ways from Censure free.
For oh! 'tis good and righteous still.
Thou'rt just, whate'er become of me,
And all Thy Ways from Censure free.
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XIII. A Description of a Storm, May 9, 1751.
I.
Now when the War of Elements is o'er,And Heav'n's Artill'ry cease to flash and roar;
Calm'd by His sovereign Nod, who bids
Th' etherial Forces rage or fall;
Who in dread Majesty serenely rides
On wild unruly Hurricanes and Storms;
While all their most outragious Forms
Tamely obey His mighty Call,
To purge the Air, or shake this guilty Ball,
To scathe the sturdy Oak, or blast audacious Worms.
Now recollect my Muse, the solemn Scene,
And rouse the sleeping Tempest up again.
II.
The solemn Scene appears! My EyesBehold the glomerating Deluge rise,
And heavy Oceans floating up the Skies:
First, distant Murm'rings from the West
With rumbling Sound break through the Air,
And bid the World, Prepare;
Strait anxious Expectation heaves the Breast,
Presaging Horror stares intense,
And, shuddering, thro' the Window looks from whence
The vapoury Magazines advance:
When lo! th' aërial Oceans roll,
Lour deeper still, and gain upon the Sky;
And on the West-Wind's Wings, above Controul,
Draw nearer still, and nearer as they fly.
Now Fear begins to palpipate,
And looks, and looks with doubtful Eye,
If haply the collecting Tempest yet
May dissipate, or pass obliquely by.
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III.
But faster still the thick'ning Clouds advance,And cast a darker Frown;
With fiercer Glare the livid Lightnings glance,
And blust'ring Winds rush on with hollow, solemn Sound;
Now through the bending Forests sweep,
And rock the trembling Dome;
Blend Rows of stately Trees in one long shatter'd Heap,
Whirl Clouds of Dust on high, and wrap
All Æther in a wide deep-louring Gloom.
A dismal Twilight frowns; the Sun
Through the thick Dust in vain emits his Ray;
Absorpt in all-surrounding Clouds, the Day
Sickens and faints at Noon.
IV.
And now above and all aroundMajestic Thunders roll with murm'ring Sound,
Convulse the Air, and rock the Ground.
Now rumbling in the dark aërial Hall,
Till scattering far away
The horrid Murmurings decay,
And die away and fall.
Now quick as Thought, to the keen Flash
Sudden succeeds the horrid Crash
Crush'd terrible, shocking the Heart;
Amaz'd, aghast, and stunn'd we start,
Entranc'd, and doubtful if we live,
And the oppressive Shock survive.
V.
Still the dire Lightning with malignant GlareIn flaming Curves wheels through the Air;
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Sudden in various Windings cuts the Cloud;
Another here, another there
Darts on the winking Eye, till all the Hemisphere
One wide-expanded Sheet of flashing Flame appear;
While Peals on Peals still undistinguish'd crowd,
And Heav'n's eternal Cannons roar aloud.
VI.
Now conscious Guilt the sudden Bolt awaits,And hardly hopes to 'scape;
Struck with dire-boding Horror, palpitates,
And startles at each bursting Clap.
The Sword of Justice brandish'd high
Draws fiery Circles through the Air;
And as the curving Lightnings fly,
And threatning Thunder murmurs through the Sky.
The hardy Bosom pants, and thinks Destruction nigh.
Ye hardy Sinners, yield and bow;
Nor dare Omnipotence to strike the Blow;
Heavy, but O! divinely slow!
Say, are you able to withstand
Th' almighty Vengeance of that Hand
Which whirls the Bolt, and guides it where
The flaming Embassy to bear,
To rive the stately Pine, or burn and tear
Th' aspiring Fabric, or with sulph'rous Breath
Blast the audacious Wretch with sudden Death.
VII.
Happy the guiltless Conscience now!Serene he hears his Father's thundring Voice;
Amid the Terrors calm, he dare rejoice,
When loudest Thunders roar, and fiercest Tempests blow:
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The harmless Lightnings flash along and play,
And his Almighty Guardian's Pow'r display.
Should angry Fire and Thunder rend
Heav'n's Convex, and in one Confusion blend
Heav'n, Earth, and Sea and Air:
Should all the Wheels of Nature break,
He undisturb'd would view the gen'ral Wreck,
Still safe and happy in the Thund'rer's Care.
VIII.
Now tow'rd the South the pregnant CloudsRetire and leave the middle Sky,
Discharging still prolific Floods
On Hills and Valleys, Fields and Woods,
And drop down Fatness as they fly.
The winding Curves worm through the distant Cloud,
And Sheets of Flame expand abroad;
Now shut and open, open still and shut,
And an immense Effulgence flash about.
IX.
Now safe from Harm, Presumption hearsThe distant Vengeance roar;
Pale Guilt renounces all her Fears,
And palpitates no more.
Mistaken Guilt! t' erect thy Crest,
And proudly boast the Danger past;
Behold a blacker Tempest gathering last,
The Skies with deeper Horrors overcast,
And louder Thunder roar in the last Trumpet's Blast;
Behold the Judge! He comes! He comes
In vengeful Flames and stormy Glooms!
The Clouds His Chariot, and the Winds His Wheels;
See! how before him Lightnings flash, and play!
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As down He rides from the eternal Hills.
X.
Supreme, almighty, venerable Name!Proprietor of Earth and Sea and Sky,
Commander of the Magazines of Flame,
That in the aërial Regions lie;
With Awe profound Thy Greatness I adore,
Who wings the Storm, and bids the Thunder roar,
And keeps th' unruly El'ments subject to Thy Pow'r.
XXVII. On bearing of the Rev. Mr. Samuel Blair's desperate Illness by common Fame, and Letters from Correspondents in Pennsylvania, June 9. 1751.
What melancholy News does distant Fame
To anxious Crowds and my shock'd Ears proclaim!
With what strange Panic is each Bosom struck,
As though some Pillar of the Heav'n's were broke!
Alas! is Blair, the great, unrival'd Blair,
Most dear to All, but oh! to me more dear;
My Father! Tutor! Friend! each tender Name
That can the softest, warmest Passions claim!
My faithful Guide to Science and to Truth,
In the raw Years of unexperienced Youth:
Ah! is the heav'nly Man just on the Wing,
And to his native Skies about to spring?
About to leave us mourning here below,
And 'mong us share the Remnant of his Woe.
Ah! does he pine away in hectic Fire,
Anhelant, panting, ready to expire?
Oh! cruel Fame! why didst thou haste thy Flight,
To bring the inauspicious News to Light?
Ah! cruel Correspondents! to reveal
The dismal Tidings Love would fain conceal.
Why did not Tears blot out th' Intelligence?
Or your sad Hands tremble to guide your Pens?
To anxious Crowds and my shock'd Ears proclaim!
With what strange Panic is each Bosom struck,
As though some Pillar of the Heav'n's were broke!
Alas! is Blair, the great, unrival'd Blair,
Most dear to All, but oh! to me more dear;
My Father! Tutor! Friend! each tender Name
That can the softest, warmest Passions claim!
My faithful Guide to Science and to Truth,
In the raw Years of unexperienced Youth:
Ah! is the heav'nly Man just on the Wing,
And to his native Skies about to spring?
About to leave us mourning here below,
And 'mong us share the Remnant of his Woe.
Ah! does he pine away in hectic Fire,
Anhelant, panting, ready to expire?
Oh! cruel Fame! why didst thou haste thy Flight,
To bring the inauspicious News to Light?
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The dismal Tidings Love would fain conceal.
Why did not Tears blot out th' Intelligence?
Or your sad Hands tremble to guide your Pens?
Oh! had you not the dismal! News divulg'd,
My Mind had still the pleasing Dream indulg'd;
Still feign'd my Blair with Health and Vigour blest,
With some grand Purpose labouring in his Breast;
In studious Thought pursuing Truth divine,
'Til the full Demonstration round him shine;
Or from the sacred Desk, proclaiming loud
His Master's Message to th' attentive Crowd;
While dubious Truth with bright Conviction glares,
And coward Error shrinks and disappears;
While Quick Remorse the hardy Sinner feels,
And Calvary's Balm the bleeding Conscience heals.
My Mind had still the pleasing Dream indulg'd;
Still feign'd my Blair with Health and Vigour blest,
With some grand Purpose labouring in his Breast;
In studious Thought pursuing Truth divine,
'Til the full Demonstration round him shine;
Or from the sacred Desk, proclaiming loud
His Master's Message to th' attentive Crowd;
While dubious Truth with bright Conviction glares,
And coward Error shrinks and disappears;
While Quick Remorse the hardy Sinner feels,
And Calvary's Balm the bleeding Conscience heals.
But now alas! the sweet Delusion's fled;
My Blair is dying, or perhaps is dead;
Or hast'ning to the calm celestial Shore,
Or safe arriv'd, and all the Dangers o'er.
Even now perhaps, releas'd from cumb'rous Clay,
His Soul expatiates in immortal Day;
Serenely basking in the Smiles of God,
With Fellow-Angels in their blest Abode.
My Blair is dying, or perhaps is dead;
Or hast'ning to the calm celestial Shore,
Or safe arriv'd, and all the Dangers o'er.
Even now perhaps, releas'd from cumb'rous Clay,
His Soul expatiates in immortal Day;
Serenely basking in the Smiles of God,
With Fellow-Angels in their blest Abode.
Pardon, Blest Shade! the Ravings of my Love,
That would recall thee from the Bliss above;
Would wish thee down in these sad Realms again,
From Choirs of Angels to converse with Men;
Ungrateful Men, who broke thy Heart, and long
Withstood the strong Persuasion of thy Tongue;
Baffled thy Love, and Vanity pursu'd,
Deaf to thy Calls, deaf to a Saviour's Blood!
That would recall thee from the Bliss above;
Would wish thee down in these sad Realms again,
From Choirs of Angels to converse with Men;
Ungrateful Men, who broke thy Heart, and long
Withstood the strong Persuasion of thy Tongue;
Baffled thy Love, and Vanity pursu'd,
Deaf to thy Calls, deaf to a Saviour's Blood!
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Oh! might'st thou from the Dead return again.
And that strange unknown World disclose to Men!
Apostles from the Dead sure could not preach in vain.
Superfluous Wish! What could'st thou teach us more,
Than thy divine Discourses did before?
And that strange unknown World disclose to Men!
Apostles from the Dead sure could not preach in vain.
Superfluous Wish! What could'st thou teach us more,
Than thy divine Discourses did before?
But if in mortal Climes be still thy Stay,
O! can our Pray'rs the fatal Hour delay?
Prevail with Heav'n to spare thy sacred Breath,
And snatch thee from th' impending Hand of Death?
O! can our Pray'rs the fatal Hour delay?
Prevail with Heav'n to spare thy sacred Breath,
And snatch thee from th' impending Hand of Death?
Come, Saints, your Importunities renew;
Try what th' united Force of fervent Pray'r can do.
Believing Pray'r, eternal Truth has sworn,
Sha'n't pant in vain, but bring a rich Return:
'Twill gain this Blessing from propitious Heav'n;
Or greater, if a greater can be giv'n.
Try what th' united Force of fervent Pray'r can do.
Believing Pray'r, eternal Truth has sworn,
Sha'n't pant in vain, but bring a rich Return:
'Twill gain this Blessing from propitious Heav'n;
Or greater, if a greater can be giv'n.
“Thou sovereign Arbiter of Life and Death,
“At whose almighty Nod we catch and yield out Breath;
“Whose fiat organiz'd our mortal Clay,
“And can repair it in its last Decay,
“And from the greedy Grave snatch the expected Prey:
“Oh! hear the bursting, deep, united Groan,
“That from ten thousand Hearts arises to Thy Throne;
“Restore our Prophet!—Best for him, 'tis true,
“To die; but oh! what shall poor Zion do?
“Zion whose Foes are many, Friends are few!
“See! how she languishes in plaintive Grief;
“By Blair's Recovery only hopes Relief.
“Where shall the wounded, tortur'd Conscience find
“A healing Hand so skilful and so kind?
“Where heav'nly Truth so firm an Advocate?
“Or dubious Minds so certain Conduct get?
“At whose almighty Nod we catch and yield out Breath;
“Whose fiat organiz'd our mortal Clay,
“And can repair it in its last Decay,
“And from the greedy Grave snatch the expected Prey:
“Oh! hear the bursting, deep, united Groan,
“That from ten thousand Hearts arises to Thy Throne;
“Restore our Prophet!—Best for him, 'tis true,
“To die; but oh! what shall poor Zion do?
“Zion whose Foes are many, Friends are few!
“See! how she languishes in plaintive Grief;
“By Blair's Recovery only hopes Relief.
“Where shall the wounded, tortur'd Conscience find
“A healing Hand so skilful and so kind?
“Where heav'nly Truth so firm an Advocate?
“Or dubious Minds so certain Conduct get?
“Restore our Prophet, and his Health renew;
“For oh! we need him more than Heav'n can do.
“There Myriads of Thy Ministers of Flame
“Perform Thy Orders and adore Thy Name.
“But here, alas! how few prepar'd like Blair
“Thy sacred Message to the World to bear?
“With equal Skill eternal Things to shew?
“And guide Thy Churches militant below!
“Restore our Prophet, Lord! and in his Stead
“Let worthless me be to the Skies convey'd.
“Thy earthly House such useless Lumber may
“Resign; but oh! snatch not our Blair away.”
“For oh! we need him more than Heav'n can do.
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“Perform Thy Orders and adore Thy Name.
“But here, alas! how few prepar'd like Blair
“Thy sacred Message to the World to bear?
“With equal Skill eternal Things to shew?
“And guide Thy Churches militant below!
“Restore our Prophet, Lord! and in his Stead
“Let worthless me be to the Skies convey'd.
“Thy earthly House such useless Lumber may
“Resign; but oh! snatch not our Blair away.”
But even his Worth now bids us to despair,
And threatens the Denial of our Pray'r;
His Worth that makes his sacred Life so dear.
So great, so heav'nly, so divine a Mind
Demands Employment of a nobler Kind.
What Earth could teach, he learn'd, and now must rise
To a superior Class above the Skies.
Too much refin'd, in this dark World to bear
The humble Place of Zion's Minister;
Heav'n calls him to sustain some nobler Function there:
With Gabriel to perform the Orders given,
And bear Jehovah's Errands thro' the Vast of Heav'n;
Prompt as th' angelic Armies to obey,
Fervent and bright and vigorous as they.
Heav'n kind to him, will not consent to hear,
Nor curse him with the Answer of our Pray'r.
And threatens the Denial of our Pray'r;
His Worth that makes his sacred Life so dear.
So great, so heav'nly, so divine a Mind
Demands Employment of a nobler Kind.
What Earth could teach, he learn'd, and now must rise
To a superior Class above the Skies.
Too much refin'd, in this dark World to bear
The humble Place of Zion's Minister;
Heav'n calls him to sustain some nobler Function there:
With Gabriel to perform the Orders given,
And bear Jehovah's Errands thro' the Vast of Heav'n;
Prompt as th' angelic Armies to obey,
Fervent and bright and vigorous as they.
Heav'n kind to him, will not consent to hear,
Nor curse him with the Answer of our Pray'r.
Oh! did my cruel Distance but allow,
I'd pay the last sad Offices I owe:
With tender Hand support thy fainting Head,
Wipe off thy mortal Sweat, and weep around thy Bed;
I'd view thee struggling in the Grasp of Death,
And share the Anguish of thy parting Breath;
Thy languishing Francisca's Grief allay,
As drown'd in Tears, she hovers o'er thy Clay;
Thy sacred Reliques to the Grave attend,
And cry, “There softly rest, my Father, Brother, Friend!”
But ah! these Eyes shall see my Blair no more,
'Till my poor Pilgrimage, like his, is o'er,
And we both meet on the eternal Shore.
I'd pay the last sad Offices I owe:
With tender Hand support thy fainting Head,
Wipe off thy mortal Sweat, and weep around thy Bed;
I'd view thee struggling in the Grasp of Death,
And share the Anguish of thy parting Breath;
Thy languishing Francisca's Grief allay,
As drown'd in Tears, she hovers o'er thy Clay;
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And cry, “There softly rest, my Father, Brother, Friend!”
But ah! these Eyes shall see my Blair no more,
'Till my poor Pilgrimage, like his, is o'er,
And we both meet on the eternal Shore.
Yet though this cruel Distance lies between,
Officious Fancy paints the dismal Scene;
Even now the mournful Images arise,
And various Shapes of Sorrow stalk before mine Eyes,
There lies my Blair, suffus'd with clammy Sweat,
Ghastly and pale; the Pulses cease to beat;
The Springs of Life relax; the purple Stream
Stagnates; his Eyes in misty Darkness swim;
A deadly Cold creeps on from every Part,
Benumbs his Limbs, and steals upon his Heart;
And see at length in a long deep-fetch'd Groan
The Soul's dismist, and flies to Worlds unknown.
Delug'd in Sorrow, there Francisca stands,
And twing'd with parting Anguish, wrings her Hands;
Like the poor widow'd Turtle, vents her Grief,
Her Tears indulges, and despairs Relief;
Surveys the World, but sees no Refuge there,
Her only Confidence in Heav'n and Pray'r.
Thy infant Train, whose little Tongues had scarce
Learn'd to pronounce thee Father, at thy Hearse,
Or round thy Bed, burst their full Hearts in Sighs,
While the big Tear sincere swells in their Eyes,
And their loud filial Griefs break out in piteous Cries.
Through thy once favour'd Flock the Sorrow spreads,
And desp'rate Grief a thousand Hearts invades:
Each fears lest 'twas his Guilt that did provoke
Incensed Heav'n to give the dreadful Stroke.
Now 'mong the Remnant of the sacred Train
They search for one to fill his Place in vain.
Compar'd with him, the most exalted Tongue,
But mangles Truth, and does the Subject Wrong.
From others heav'nly Truths insipid seem
To them whose Relish was refin'd by him.
Officious Fancy paints the dismal Scene;
Even now the mournful Images arise,
And various Shapes of Sorrow stalk before mine Eyes,
There lies my Blair, suffus'd with clammy Sweat,
Ghastly and pale; the Pulses cease to beat;
The Springs of Life relax; the purple Stream
Stagnates; his Eyes in misty Darkness swim;
A deadly Cold creeps on from every Part,
Benumbs his Limbs, and steals upon his Heart;
And see at length in a long deep-fetch'd Groan
The Soul's dismist, and flies to Worlds unknown.
Delug'd in Sorrow, there Francisca stands,
And twing'd with parting Anguish, wrings her Hands;
Like the poor widow'd Turtle, vents her Grief,
Her Tears indulges, and despairs Relief;
Surveys the World, but sees no Refuge there,
Her only Confidence in Heav'n and Pray'r.
Thy infant Train, whose little Tongues had scarce
Learn'd to pronounce thee Father, at thy Hearse,
Or round thy Bed, burst their full Hearts in Sighs,
While the big Tear sincere swells in their Eyes,
And their loud filial Griefs break out in piteous Cries.
Through thy once favour'd Flock the Sorrow spreads,
And desp'rate Grief a thousand Hearts invades:
Each fears lest 'twas his Guilt that did provoke
Incensed Heav'n to give the dreadful Stroke.
Now 'mong the Remnant of the sacred Train
They search for one to fill his Place in vain.
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But mangles Truth, and does the Subject Wrong.
From others heav'nly Truths insipid seem
To them whose Relish was refin'd by him.
Still farther spreads th' extensive Grief around
Each Bosom feels the Anguish of the Wound,
And bursting Groans from Breast to Breast rebound.
Zion her Loss through all her Temples wails,
And spreads the dismal Eccho round her Hills.
To this far Clime the mournful Sound shall roll,
And with fresh Anguish twinge my bleeding Soul.
His dear sad Mem'ry on my Heart shall rest,
While vital Breath inspires my heaving Breast;
Mix with my tender'st Thoughts, and often move
The doleful Anguish of bereaved Love,
'Till our Reunion heals the Wound Above.
Each Bosom feels the Anguish of the Wound,
And bursting Groans from Breast to Breast rebound.
Zion her Loss through all her Temples wails,
And spreads the dismal Eccho round her Hills.
To this far Clime the mournful Sound shall roll,
And with fresh Anguish twinge my bleeding Soul.
His dear sad Mem'ry on my Heart shall rest,
While vital Breath inspires my heaving Breast;
Mix with my tender'st Thoughts, and often move
The doleful Anguish of bereaved Love,
'Till our Reunion heals the Wound Above.
| Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761 | |