Poems on Several Occasions With Anne Boleyn to King Henry VIII. An Epistle. By Mrs. Elizabeth Tollet. The Second Edition |
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Hymn to the Paraclete.
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
Hymn to the Paraclete.
At Whitsontide, 1723.
O thou the Third in that eternal Trine!
In individuate Unity divine!
Tho' me my humble Fate denies to raise
The votive Temple, sacred to thy Praise,
Where Columns in extended Ranks retire,
And sounding Arches eccho to the Choir,
Where in the ample Dome the central Eye
Beholds the imitated Round of Sky,
Where on the Roof the artful Colours glow,
Whose Height and Distance juster Grace bestow,
Where Order and Magnificence combine,
The polish'd Marble and the golden Mine,
Yet thine the Temple of my Breast shall be,
If purify'd and consecrate by Thee:
Thither, serene, indulgent Guest! repair,
And fix thy bless'd Abode for ever there.
In individuate Unity divine!
Tho' me my humble Fate denies to raise
The votive Temple, sacred to thy Praise,
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And sounding Arches eccho to the Choir,
Where in the ample Dome the central Eye
Beholds the imitated Round of Sky,
Where on the Roof the artful Colours glow,
Whose Height and Distance juster Grace bestow,
Where Order and Magnificence combine,
The polish'd Marble and the golden Mine,
Yet thine the Temple of my Breast shall be,
If purify'd and consecrate by Thee:
Thither, serene, indulgent Guest! repair,
And fix thy bless'd Abode for ever there.
Whether the plastic Spirit Thou descend;
And o'er my Soul thy Dove-like Wings extend:
The warring Seeds of Nature to subdue;
And call thy fair Creation forth anew.
Whether the Advocate by Heav'n assign'd,
At once to comfort and convince the Mind;
The fiery-parted Tongues, th' impetuous Wind:
Tho' bellying Clouds the sable Skies invest,
And pois'nous Vapours breath the direful Pest,
Yet those before th' impetuous Wind retire,
And these are purg'd by thy celestial Fire.
Thou the chief Boon propitious Heav'n bestows!
To whom her Force recruited Nature owes!
Dispel the Gloom of melancholy Fear,
That all within may shine serenely clear;
Nor suffer Guilt, a worse Contagion, there.
And o'er my Soul thy Dove-like Wings extend:
The warring Seeds of Nature to subdue;
And call thy fair Creation forth anew.
Whether the Advocate by Heav'n assign'd,
At once to comfort and convince the Mind;
The fiery-parted Tongues, th' impetuous Wind:
Tho' bellying Clouds the sable Skies invest,
And pois'nous Vapours breath the direful Pest,
Yet those before th' impetuous Wind retire,
And these are purg'd by thy celestial Fire.
Thou the chief Boon propitious Heav'n bestows!
To whom her Force recruited Nature owes!
Dispel the Gloom of melancholy Fear,
That all within may shine serenely clear;
Nor suffer Guilt, a worse Contagion, there.
Within my Heart if Thou descend to dwell,
To Thee the Shrine, and to my Soul the Cell,
If thither Thou descend, a decent Band,
Shall all thy Graces at thy Altar stand:
Here Faith to Heav'n shall lift her Eagle Eye,
And prompt Obedience wait attentive by;
Here Penitence shall drop a silent Tear,
And holy Hope the pensive Mourner chear.
Here Piety shall her Oblation bring,
Her Pray'r the Fragrance of an Eastern Spring:
In prostrate Adoration here shall lye,
Upon the sacred Floor, Humility.
Here awful Justice shall her Balance hold,
Where Innocence can turn the Scale with Gold:
Here heav'nly-minded Wisdom from above,
Shall to the Serpent reconcile the Dove.
Here Charity her Offspring shall embrace,
And on her Bosom lull her tender Race:
Here rev'rend Truth, and Purity of Mind,
And calm Content to Providence resign'd,
Here, arm'd with fiery Darts, shall Love divine,
A Seraph wing'd, reside; and Peace shall twine
Her everlasting Olives round thy Shrine.
To Thee the Shrine, and to my Soul the Cell,
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Shall all thy Graces at thy Altar stand:
Here Faith to Heav'n shall lift her Eagle Eye,
And prompt Obedience wait attentive by;
Here Penitence shall drop a silent Tear,
And holy Hope the pensive Mourner chear.
Here Piety shall her Oblation bring,
Her Pray'r the Fragrance of an Eastern Spring:
In prostrate Adoration here shall lye,
Upon the sacred Floor, Humility.
Here awful Justice shall her Balance hold,
Where Innocence can turn the Scale with Gold:
Here heav'nly-minded Wisdom from above,
Shall to the Serpent reconcile the Dove.
Here Charity her Offspring shall embrace,
And on her Bosom lull her tender Race:
Here rev'rend Truth, and Purity of Mind,
And calm Content to Providence resign'd,
Here, arm'd with fiery Darts, shall Love divine,
A Seraph wing'd, reside; and Peace shall twine
Her everlasting Olives round thy Shrine.
My Soul, illumin'd with an heav'nly Beam,
Shou'd slake her Thirst at thy diffusive Stream:
Then Heav'nward she shou'd wing her noble Flight,
And float upon the vast Abyss of Light;
Or, from the Chains of Sense and Matter free,
Mount on a fiery Car of Zeal to thee.
Yet this since frail Mortality denies,
To Thee she brings her humble Sacrifice:
Content, if Thou her pious Hopes inspire,
That when thy chosen Just complete thy Choir,
To Thee she then may sing, to Thee may touch the Lyre.
Shou'd slake her Thirst at thy diffusive Stream:
Then Heav'nward she shou'd wing her noble Flight,
And float upon the vast Abyss of Light;
Or, from the Chains of Sense and Matter free,
Mount on a fiery Car of Zeal to thee.
Yet this since frail Mortality denies,
To Thee she brings her humble Sacrifice:
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That when thy chosen Just complete thy Choir,
To Thee she then may sing, to Thee may touch the Lyre.
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