The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. Containing, besides his Sermons, and Essays on miscellaneous subjects, several additional pieces, Selected from his Manuscripts by the Rev. Dr. Jennings, and the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, in 1753: to which are prefixed, memoirs of the life of the author, compiled by the Rev. George Burder. In six volumes |
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TO MR. T. BRADBURY.
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 | The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. |  |
TO MR. T. BRADBURY.
Paradise.
1708.
I.
Young as I am I quit the stage,Nor will I know th'applauses of the age;
Farewell to growing fame. I leave below
A life not half worn out with cares,
Or agonies, or years;
I leave my country all in tears,
But heaven demands me upward, and I dare to go.
Amongst ye, friends, divide and share
The remnant of my days,
If ye have patience, and can bear
A long fatigue of life, and drudge thro' all the race.
II.
Hark, my fair guardian chides my stay,And waves his golden rod:
‘Angel, I come; lead on the way:’
And now by swift degrees
I sail aloft thro' azure seas,
Now tread the milky road:
Farewell, ye planets, in your spheres;
And as the stars are lost, a brighter sky appears.
In haste for Paradise
I stretch the pinions of a bolder thought;
Scarce had I will'd, but I was past
Deserts of trackless light and all th'ethereal waste,
And to the sacred borders brought;
There on the wing a guard of cherubs lies,
Each waves a keen flame as he flies,
And well defends the walls from sieges and surprise.
III.
With pleasing rev'rence I beholdThe pearly portals wide unfold:
Enter, my soul, and view th'amazing scenes;
Sit fast upon the flying muse,
And let thy roving wonder loose
O'er all th'empyreal plains.
Noon stands eternal here: here may thy sight
Drink in the rays of primogenial light;
Here breathe immortal air:
Joy must beat high in ev'ry vein,
Pleasure thro' all thy bosom reign;
The laws forbid the stranger, pain,
And banish every care.
IV.
See how the bubbling springs of loveBeneath the throne arise;
The streams in crystal channels move,
Around the golden streets they rove,
And bless the mansions of the upper skies.
There a fair grove of knowledge grows,
Nor sin nor death infects the fruit;
Young life hangs fresh on all the boughs,
And springs from ev'ry root;
Here may thy greedy senses feast
While ecstasy and health attend on every taste.
With the fair prospect charm'd I stood;
Fearless I feed on the delicious fare,
And drink profuse salvation from the silver flood,
Nor can excess be there.
V.
In sacred order rang'd alongSaints new-releas'd by death
Join the bold seraph's warbling breath,
And aid th'immortal song.
Each has a voice that tunes his strings
To mighty sounds, and mighty things,
Things of everlasting weight,
Sounds, like the softer viol, sweet,
And, like the trumpet, strong.
Divine attention held my soul,
I was all ear!
Thro' all my pow'rs the heav'nly accents roll.
I long'd and wish'd my Bradbury there;
‘Could he but hear these notes,’ I said,
‘His tuneful soul wou'd never bear
‘The dull unwinding of life's tedious thread,
‘But burst the vital cords to reach the happy dead.’
VI.
And now my tongue prepares to joinThe harmony, and with a noble aim
Attempts th'unutterable name,
But faints, confounded by the notes divine:
Again my soul th'unequal honour sought,
Again her utmost force she brought,
And bow'd beneath the burden of th'unwieldy thought.
Thrice I essay'd, and fainted thrice;
Th'immortal labour strain'd my feeble frame,
Broke the bright vision, and dissolv'd the dream
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In vain I sought the scenes of light
Rolling abroad my longing eyes,
For all around 'em stood my curtains and the night.
| The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. | |