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Deity

A Poem [by Samuel Boyse]
  

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 I. 
 II. 
II. UNITY.
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 


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II. UNITY.

Thus recogniz'd, the spring of life and thought!
Eternal, self-deriv'd, and unbegot!
Approach, celestial Muse! th'empyreal throne,
And awfully adore th'exalted one!
In nature pure, in place supremely free,
And happy in essential unity!
Bless'd in himself, had from his forming hand,
No creatures sprung to hail his wide command;
Bless'd, had the sacred fountain ne'er run o'er,
A boundless sea of bliss that knows no shore!
Nor sense can two prime origins conceive,
Nor reason two eternal Gods believe!
Could the wild Manichæan own that guide,
The good would triumph, and the ill subside!
Again, would vanquish'd Arimanius bleed,
And darkness from prevailing light recede!
In diff'rent individuals we find,
An evident disparity of mind;

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Hence ductile thought a thousand changes gains,
And actions vary as the will ordains;
But should two Beings, equally supreme,
Divided pow'r, and parted empire claim;
How soon would universal order cease!
How soon would discord harmony displace?
Eternal schemes maintain eternal fight,
Nor yield, supported by eternal might;
Where each would uncontroul'd his aim pursue,
The links dissever, or the chain renew;
Matter from motion cross impressions take,
As serv'd each pow'r his rival's pow'r to break,
While neutral Chaos, from his deep recess,
Would view the never-ending strife increase,
And bless the contest that secur'd his peace!
While new creations would opposing rise,
And elemental war deform the skies!
Around wild uproar and confusion hurl'd,
Eclipse the heav'ns, and waste the ruin'd world.
Two independent causes to admit,
Destroys religion, and debases wit;

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The first by such an anarchy undone,
The last acknowledges its source but one.
As from the main the mountain rills are drawn,
That wind irriguous thro' the flow'ry lawn;
So, mindful of their spring, one course they keep,
Exploring, till they find their native deep!
Exalted Pow'r! invisible, supreme,
Thou sov'reign, sole unutterable Name!
As round thy throne thy flaming seraphs stand,
And touch the golden lyre with trembling hand!
Too weak thy pure effulgence to behold,
With their rich plumes their dazzled eyes infold;
Transported with the Ardors of thy praise,
The holy! holy! holy! anthem raise!
To them, responsive, let creation sing,
Thee, indivisible eternal king!