University of Virginia Library

There does the Humane Seraph preaching stand,
Whose very Looks th' attentive Crowd command:
Divine Persuasion, with a Heav'nly Grace,
Sits on his Lips, and Pity in his Face.
No Preacher's Eyes did e'er before reveal
Such tender Love, mixt with such ardent Zeal.
That Orator must certain be obey'd,
Whose Mien is eloquent, whose Hands persuade:
To say he speaks, Spectators, do not fear,
For if you cannot, sure his People hear,
Else how could ev'ry Face such pious Passions wear?
With how much Eagerness the list'ning Throng
Gaze on his Eyes, and hang upon his Tongue?
On 'em, his Words, like Heav'nly Lightning, dart,
They leave the Body found, but melt the Heart;
And to the Mind the Seeds of Truth convey,
Which glow a while, then kindle into Day.
Celestial Meekness with such Ardour joyn'd,
Mild Gravity, with so much Fire combin'd,
The most reluctant Passions must controul,
Pierce thro' the Heart, and touch the inmost Soul.
The Preacher, with resistless Eloquence,
Do's, as the Sun from his bright Orb, dispence
O'erflowing Streams of pure Etherial Light,
That chases far away Infernal Night.
Paul shews such great Concern, such sacred Awe,
As if the Heav'nly Majesty he saw,
By whose supreme Commission he was sent,
To treat with Rebel Man, and bring him to repent.
Only that Preacher can th' Affections touch,
Who's so in Earnest, and whose Zeal is such.
'Tis plain that Paul his Hearers do's inspire
With his own Passions propagated Fire;
And while the Speaker, with Seraphic Art,
Divine Enchantment sends to ev'ry Heart,
He, by his own, do's their Devotion raise,
And to their Breasts his very Soul conveys.
Then, while with sacred Flames their Bosoms glow,
And their soft Hearts begin to melt and flow,
He, to compleat his Masterly Design,
On 'em imprints fair Images Divine.
See, how he triumphs with resistless Skill,
How he instructs the Mind, commands the Will.
His Breath, like Winds, that on the Ocean blow,
Moves all the waving Multitude below,
And drives the Tide of Passion to and fro.
This mighty Pow'r his Auditors confess,
Who such Emotion in their Looks express.
Was more sincere Devotion ever known?
Did e'er the Soul such painted Passions own?
Were e'er her various Shapes to such Advantage shown?
Th' Apostle's Words divine Desires produce,
And holy Ferments thro' their Breasts diffuse;
From Man to Man the blest Contagion flies,
They catch it at their Ears, and drink it at their Eyes.

Th' obdurate Wretch with Thunder he invades,
And with the Terrours of the Lord persuades:
And as the hardy Kind his Threats affright,
So his mild Arts ingenuous Minds invite.
One there inlighten'd, and convinc'd of Sin,
Shews in his Eyes, what Pangs he feels within;
Fierce Conscience binds him on her dreadful Rack,
And stretches all his Heart-strings, 'till they crack.
By the Disturbance in his Face appears,
What Pains he suffers, and what Wrath he fears.
He's so undone, so perfectly distrest,
As melts with Pity each Spectator's Breast.

That Figure mind, how much it does relent?
With fadder Looks, can any Face repent?
How just a Trouble, what a pious Grief,
Temper'd with Hopes of Mercy and Relief?
His melting Eyes, that swim in Tears, declare
How deep his Wound, how sharp his Sufferings are.
View the next Face, Spectator, thou wilt say
Confusion there do's all its Pomp display.
Did ever Man so much his Guilt deplore,
Detest and hate himself so much before?
How that unfeign'd, inimitable Shame,
And last Distress, advance great Raphael's Fame?