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Devotional Poetry

To Thyrsis

While Vice triumphant lords it o'er the plain,
And holds o'er abject man her tyrant-reign;
While poor dejected Virtue hangs her head,
Her dictates quite despis'd, her influence dead;
While hoary Age forgets its wonted lore,
And lives a pattern of good deeds no more;
While Youth, no more by modest duty bound,
Of vice or folly runs one constant round;
In fine, while almost all their bane pursue,
Nor have one gen'rous God-like aim in view;
Dear Thyrsis, scorn the listless, impious, throng,
And harken to the precepts of my song.
Observe the muse that tempts the moral lay,
And boldly follow, where she leads the way;
With me be brave in virtue's injur'd cause,
Gain thou from heav'n, if not from men, applause.
First then, to Him, who bad the first to be,
Th' all-good, all-wise, all pow'rful Deity;
With humblest awe, thy faithful pray'r address,
To guide thee thro' this thorny Wilderness.
For Oh! without his providential care,
How vain our most important projects are?
The man, who travels life's uncertain way,
And fondly cries, I will not err to Day,
Deceives himself; for, mortal, canst thou tell,
How oft thou swervest ev'n from thinking well?
O Thought! from thee what anxious griefs arise:
How great the pain, to labour to be wise?
What various triffles will the heart amuse,
And stagger all her pow'rs, ere we can chuse?
And in the choice, how oft do we prefer
What's more absur'd to what is just and clear,
Cherish Ideas wandering, low and gay,
And cast each serious, useful thought away.
How fatal the result! - my friend beware,
116

And fall not heedless in the baneful snare.
Ah! let not Wit profane thy heart engage;
Read every moral, ev'ry sacred page.
To Reason's strength call Revelation's aid,
Nor be by too presuming Self betray'd;
By Both assisted, soon thou'lt gain the field,
Without the aid of Both as soon wilt yield.
Then passions plead, and prejudice has sway,
And poor insulted Virtue dies away.
And now the Tongue demands thy utmost care,
'Tis wise, the mischiefs of the Tongue to fear.
How oft are schemes the noblest, closest laid,
By one unthinking, guardless word betray'd?
What guilt, what shame in loose expression lies?
And yet how few can be in silence wise?
Ah friend! the silly rant of fools defy,
The nauseous ribaldry, the senseless lie;
The hideous blasphemy, the envious sneer;
The killing scandal and the biting jeer.
Why should you blush at what yourself have said?
Why blushes stain the face of that fair Maid?
Why will you thus, where nought can tempt, offend?
Why shame your wife, your father or your friend?
Why anger heav'n without a seeming Cause?
Or why affront great nature's purest laws?
Why, lastly, hurt his character and fame,
Whom, tho' you scarcely know, but by his name,
Yet for mere folly's sake, you censure and condem?
In prudent silence, rather seek to shine,
And pay your offrings at her sacred shrine.
She, heaps applause, if you her rules obey,
Gives you a temper sweet, serene and gay,
And chases all chagrin, and all remorse away.
A just regard to Action next succeeds:
Foul Thoughts, foul Words are bad, but worst foul Deeds.
The maid deflour'd, the easy friend deceiv'd;
The helpless orphan of his rights betray'd;
The pow'r divine disclaim'd, the breach of troth;
The Midnight revel, and the Mid-day sloth
The Poor neglected, and the Villain fed;
Religion with her institutes betray'd—
O what a scene of guilt! How wretched He
117

O'er whelm'd with half this load of infamy!
And yet look round—such is the hideous face
Of things below—
But turn thine eyes—a different prospect view,
And the blest path now pointed out pursue.
And firm regard to Heav'n devoutly paid;
His pow'r acknowledg'd, and implor'd his aid;
The Parent's, Sov'reign's, Reason's laws observ'd;
The Naked cloath'd, the Fainting soul preserv'd;
The duties of each station well perform'd,
And in her strongest holds vice bravely storm'd;
Goodness, by pattern more than precept, taught;
And Wisdom's awful rules for ever fought—
These, these have charms—these, these pursue, my friend!
On these e'en here the surest joys attend;
And these will give thee bliss, which ne'er shall end.
Maryland, Baltimore County, written in the year 1744.
118

A POEM

Sacred to the Memory of Miss Margaret Lawson, Miss Elizabeth Lawson, Miss Dorothy Lawson, and Miss Elizabeth Read.

As whilom roving o'er the lonely Plain,
Pensive and sad, my Soul distract with Grief
For unexpected woes; yet still intent
My Thoughts on Thee, O God, and on thy Ways,
Thy deep mysterious Ways with mortal Man;
Struck with thy various Dispensations, long
In humble Adoration lost, I stood.
“Surely (I said), the God that's just and wise,
“And good and pow'rful needs must act aright:
“And who shall say, What dost thou? to what end?”
Yet still, when anxious, I presum'd to scan
His late tremendous Act; t' explore the Cause,
Why sweetest Innocence and loveliest Youth,
Fell such an early Sacrifice to Death:
Why beauteous Margaretta, peerless Maid!
The two Elizas, faultless both as fair,
And gentle Dorothea, heav'nly Child!
So sudden left us, left us, to bewail
Beauties and Graces, that with Rapture long
We'ad view'd perfection op'ning; Thought
Was in Amazement sunk, I look'd astound,
And all was Chaos round me: Like the Sage,
Who, when exploring great Creation's Laws,
Finds Difficulties not to be explain'd,
And owns his Reason's dim short sighted Pow'rs.
Strait I cried out; “Inscrutable thy Ways,
“Thy Counsels and thy Will, O sov'reign Lord!”
Long in the dark Perplexity my Soul
Was not involv'd; I onward bent my Way,
And to yon Empyrean lift my eyes,
Tho' dubious, yet adoring; when behold!
The Face of Heav'n was chang'd; the gloomy Clouds
Divided and stream'd out a shining Light,
Radiance, as is a Summer's Sun at Noon.
Surpriz'd I stopp'd and contemplated strait
The blest Appearance, when a heav'nly Form
Broke forth, and stood before me; such her Charms
“As make Expression dumb;” her Voice, her Mien
119

Spoke Margaretta; but, tho' lovely she
When mortal, yet a thousandth thousandth Part
She had not of the Beauties that beam'd forth
Now from her Face celestial; nobler Sweets
Than or Arabia, or the spicy Isles
E'er boasted, from her breath'd; she look'd, she smil'd,
As Angels Look and Smile, to some good Man
On happy errand sent. I stood entranc'd
In speechless Rapture, while the Charmer spoke
(Such Sounds none surely but Immortals hear),
She spoke, and fill'd me with ecstatic Joy.
“O thou, my Father's Friend, and therefore mine,
“To thee I'm sent, to teach thee how to chear
“The drooping Hearts of those, whose Parent-Love
“Strikes them with bootless Grief, and fills their Eyes
“With streaming Sorrows for their dear beloved.
“Alas! why mourn they? Mourn they not for them,
“Who to Eternity are blest? For them,
“Who tread you happy heav'nly Plains, where reign
“Immortal Peace and Pleasure? Joy is there,
“Such Joy as mortal Eye ne'er yet as seen,
“Nor mortal Tongue exprest, nay more; the Heart
“Of Man, will ne'er conceive, 'till they, like us
“Thereto have blest Admittance. Oh! that thou,
“Or that my Father, or that honour'd Dame,
“Who bore me in the Womb, who train'd me up
“From Infancy, in Virtue's heav'nly Road;
“O that you knew, what Joy celestial struck
“Our ravish'd Senses, when advanced first
“To what we now possess! From your dull Earth
“Short was our Passage, and but slight our Pain,
“Death's a mere Bug-bear, which, because untried,
“Vain Man thinks all that's horrible and dire.
“Far, far from this;—to those, who like Ourselves
“Walk in the Ways of Pleasantness and Peace,
“In Wisdom's Ways, he is the kindest Friend.
“Scarce had we felt the Danger that you mourn'd
“When from our Bodies mounted blithe our Souls,
“And flew to light, so lively that we soon
“Reach'd the desired goal; as soon forgot
“The idle World we 'ad left behind, and blest
“The Means that disengag'd us from our Clay:
“But this is nought to the ecstatic Bliss
120

“We prov'd, when to the bright Assembly join'd
“Of just Men perfect made; when 'mid a Host
“Of Cherubim and Seraph we approach'd
“The King of Kings, in Glory bright array'd,
“And join'd in Allelujahs to the Lamb
“That sat by him enthron'd, Omnipotence
“And Majesty and Holiness divine,
“And boundless Wisdom, Justice, Goodness, Love,
“Are now the Theme of our eternal Songs.
“This, this the Happiness, for which we've left
“Your nether World; and say, tho' Children ne'er
“Enjoy'd from Parents a sincerer Love,
“Can we regret the blessed Change? Ah, no!
“Tho' dear unto us still, yet wou'd we not
“For all then thousand Worlds like yours can yield
“Quit yon blest Plains, to tread with them again
“Your sordid Earth. Your Message then be this:
“Tell them to sigh no more for us; our God
“In kind Compassion to themselves hath call'd
“The darling Objects of their Souls away.
“Of us depriv'd, they now must surely know
“The Vanity of earthly Bliss, and feel,
“Sensibly feel, that they must seek for Joy
“In other Worlds, in Worlds where only Joy
“Is to be found: Their best Affections then
“Set they on Things above; and soon shall we
“In Heaven's due time to yon immortal Shores
“Hail them arriv'd: Their happy Daughters there
“Again shall they behold; and with them live
“Eternal Ages, never more to part.”
T. CRADOCK
121

Seven Hymns

Hymn for Christmas

1

Rejoice, ye servants of the Lord:
Be this great name ador'd:
Exalt your voices high:
For lo! He comes; the Godhead comes;
Our nature to His own assumes,
That he for us may die.

2

This blessed day, glad Earth receives
The Prince of Peace: a Virgin gives
The Savior to the light:
Angelic hosts the wonder sing;
The Shepherds haste to hail their King,
And bless the awful sight.

3

And see, the Magi from afar,
Directed by a radiant star,
To where their Maker lay;
Offer, with mingled joy and fear,
Their gold, frankincense, and their myrrh,
And adoration pay.

4

And shall not we, with equal fear,
With equal warmth and joy revere,
His great and glorious name!
And shall not we in loftiest hymns,
With Seraphs and Cherubims,
The Saviour God proclaim!
122

Hymn for Whitsunday

1

Thou Holy Ghost; mysterious power!
To thee we fly for aid;
Teach us, on wings of Faith to soar,
Our inmost hearts purvey'd.

2

O still, as erst Thou didst inspire,
The chosen of the Lord,
When first they felt the Sacred fire,
Instruct me in Thy Word.

3

With wonder, heard the mingled throng!
They saw and were amazed!
The rushing wind, the cloven tongues—
They trembled as they gazed.

4

But what astonishment was theirs!
Who can their joy unfold!
While each, in his own language hears
Th' important tidings told.

5

This wond'rous work, all clement power,
Didst then for man ordain!
123

That sin, and death, and hell, no more
Might hold their hated reign.

6

Therefore, our gratitude to Thee,
Breaks forth in hymns of joy;
And thus, thro' all eternity,
May we our tongues employ.

Sacremental Hymn

1

The feast's prepared; the table's set;
The chosen of the Lord are met.
Blest visitants! how happy all,
Who haste to obey the gracious call.

2

Hark! 'tis the Saviour Who invites!
Such condescension, sure excites
Each fervent heart to join the feast;
Who would not be the Saviour's guest?

3

Haste then, with ardor to your bliss!
“O taste and see how good He is!”
Feast your glad souls, in what will prove
Sweet earnest of your bliss above.

Resignation

1

What e'er, all-clement God,
Thy justice shall ordain;
I'll bow, submissive to thy rod,
And never will complain.

2

Though ills, successive fall,
On my devoted head,
With patient heart, I'll bear them all,
And to thy mercy plead.
124

3

For well, I know, the cause
Of thy consuming wrath;
Too long I've disobey'd thy laws,
I've merited my death.

4

I know, whate'er I feel,
The Saviour suffer'd more;
And man's distempered heart to heal,
Severest tortures bore.

5

Hear this! my soul, thou'lt say,
Since God's such tender love,
I'll bear life's sorrows as I may,
My gratitude to prove.

Hymn for Ascension

1

He springs, he rises from the ground
He cleaves the yielding sky.
Then Earth, the heavens with joy resound,
That Savior mounts on high.

2

O Wondrous proof of power divine
The God, the God ascends;
With what a lustre does he shine,
And what a train attends.
125

3

The cherubim & seraphim
Crowd thick his azure way;
And hark in one continued hymn
Their duteous homage pay.

4

Hear this ye nations and adore;
The Era is begun,
When time and death—their ravage o'er—
Lie vanquished by the Son.

5

Again he'll in the clouds appear;
When—all-tremendous thought—
For what we've live & acted here,
Shall be to judgement brought.

6

The wicked in the depths of hell,
To wail eternal woe;
The righteous with their Lord to dwell,
Where joys immortal flow.

Funeral Hymn

1

Fruitless the toils which harrass man;
His anxious cares for wealth or pow'r;
Life's longest period's but a span,
And soon he meets his destined hour.

2

Death strikes! fell tyrant! less he lies,
And those that loved him round him mourn;
But vain their tears & vain their sighs,
For life once fled has no return.

3

And is there nothing that can boast,
Its various ills to make us bear?
Is all in disappointment lost,
Without one prospect worth our care?
126

4

Yes, there's a brighter, a heavenly prize
Deserves our care, our utmost pains;
You blooming fields above the skies,
Where Seraphs sing, where Jesus reigns.

5

With these in view & these our aim,
Life's deepest woes we can support.
And immortality our claim,
Who'll dare to say that life is short?

On Viewing the Grave of Arthur Cradock

1

In the dark Earth his body lies—
Deep hid from mortal sight;
Clos'd, ever clos'd, those beaming eyes—
That gave me such delight.

2

Cold as the turf that covers him—
He whom the parent mourns;
Corruption triumphs o'er each limb—
And dust to dust returns.

3

O with what rapture viewed we all—
His sweet, his manly form;
Ah, could we think so soon he'd fall—
A victim to the worm.

4

And yet that body cloth'd a mind—
That with devotion glow'd;
And could no solid pleasure find—
But in the love of God.

5

And yet those eyes so mildly bright—
Trac'd out creation's laws;
And guided by celestial light—
Discern'd th'Almighty Cause.
127

6

And yet that form display'd a Soul—
In every grace complete;
Which every passion could control—
Serene, sublimely great.

7

Is then my dear loved son no more?—
Ah yes! he lives above;
No longer then, fond heart, deplore—
The loss of filial love.

A Fragment

Blest is the Man who's free from publick Cares;
Who no Man envies, and who no Man fears,
Whose Heart, a Stranger to the Ways of Sin,
Gives him true Joy, true Happiness within.
[OMITTED]
With his own Hands he ploughs that native Field,
His Father, Grandsire, and their Grandsires till'd.
Under those Oaks they found a cool Retreat
When spent with Labour in the Midday Heat,
He throws Him down: The Rooks, whose Sires before
Lull'd his Forefathers with their cawing Lore,
On him like Tribute gratefully bestow.
Tis all they have to give, tis all the Rent they owe.
Though small his Income, though his Household great,
The Poor unpitty'd never leave his Gate.
To them a Little of his Little's given.
Did I say, given? no; that is lent to Heaven.
On Sundays seated in his wicker Chair,
His Wife, his Children, Friends and Neighbours near,
He from the sacred Text a Chapter reads,
Comments, explains each verse as he proceeds:
Not to corrupt, but to apply the Word,
Not make his Hearers Casuists, but good.
When in the Markett with his Team he stands,
The Rich, the Great will take him by the Hand.
Though he no Pensions grants, no Bribes bestows,
Virtue will meet Respect where'evr She goes.
Among his Neighbours if Disputes arise,
The injur'd Party straight to him applys.
128

He hears both Sides, determines soon the Cause;
For He has Sense, though unskill'd in the Laws.
And Who has Sense with Honesty combin'd,
Him make thy Judge, if such one Thou canst find.
[OMITTED]
When Death prepares his Being here to end,
Celestial Angels round his Couch attend;
Who wait impatient till the Stroke be given,
Eager to waft his honest Soul to Heaven.
[OMITTED]

Crurulia

2. Part the 2d

[1]
The Check

1

But why, my soul, so mournfully complain?
The crime of base ingratitude beware;
Has Heav'n no mercies mingled with thy pain?
Dost thou no blessings from thy Maker share?

2

Oh yes! they're countless—hourly on my head—
(For which his glorious name be still ador'd)
129

Has he the bounties of his goodness shed,
Like gladning rains on thirsty pastures pour'd.

3

Various indeed his mercies—nor forget,
My soul, his blest benificence to praise,
Never oh never thou'lt discharge the debt,
Tho' to his will devoted all thy days:

4

Blest in th'affection of a tender wife
Whose constant joy's my wayward heart to please;
Who seeks to smooth the rigours of my life,
And ne'er is happy, but when I have ease:

5

Blest is my children who with duteous eye
Wait ev'ry motion of their father's will;
Whose infant hearts with filial simpathy,
Young as they are, their father's anguish feel:

6

Blest in the genuine friendship of the Few,
Whose worthy souls, from servile meanness free,
Firmly the rigid paths of truth pursue,
And scorn the dupes of modern modes to be:

7

Blest in my country's welfare which no more
Mourns battles badly fought & basely lost,
But with her fleets insults the hostile shore,
Cou'd late a Wolfe, can yet an Amherst boast:

8

Blest in my faith, which wanders not abroad
After the wild fanatick's idle schemes,
But makes it only rule the book of GOD,
Clear from the taint of superstitution's dreams:

9

But all above, blest in the glorious hope,
That, when I die, I shall not total die,
130

But Heav'n will give my soul her amplest scope,
To climb yon bright etherial worlds on high.

10

Lo! these are blessings of the noblest kind;
And can I then ungratefully complain
For trifling ills?—for shame, my dastard mind,
The coward's weak unmanly moan disdain,

11

Be thy own self—thy origin respect;
The ways of Heav'n, it's kind intension scan;
On what thou art design'd for, calm, reflect;
And bravely act the Christian & the Man.

2
Afflictions mercies

1

Yes; well the sacred page informs my soul,
That our severest evils mercies prove;
The force of sensual passion to controul,
Inflicted on us by Almighty love.

2

I find it so; for now my humbled heart
Melts with the dread of that tremendous hour,
When I from earth & all its ties must part,
And see the glories of the sun no more.

3

Now ev'ry word and ev'ry action's weigh'd;
Now the minutest thought I strickly poise;
That I to him whose blood my ransome paid,
May yet present a welcome sacrifice.

4

Yet not my soul, thou of perfection boast;
Alass! I feel how very frail I be;
How weak my virtue, where I struggle most
How wondrous hard, from folly to be free:
131

5

That still my mind a motley-mixture shews,
Where grace & passion have by turns their pow'r;
As in the mass, wherein the bullion glows,
Dull worthless earth is blended with the ore.

6

But as that ore is by the fire refin'd,
Purg'd from it's dross, & render'd bright & pure;
So is my hope, that my afflicted mind
Will whiten thro' it's pains, & Heav'n secure:

7

And is it thus? and will that Heav'n be mine?
By means of blest affliction shall I see
My Maker's face? kind source of bliss divine!
That thus conducts me to eternity!

8

Eternity, thou no more dreadful thought!
My only prospect, and my only aim!
In pain's hard school the wholsome lesson taught,
For thee I labour, & tis thee I claim.

9

Let princes vain fantastick hopes pursue
And wade thro' blood & carnage to a crown;
I scorn their low ambition; thou my view,
With pity on a Bourbon I look down.

3
The Resolve

1

The royal shepherd in his songs of woe,
When noisome ulcers o'er his body ran,
And he no respite from his pains cou'd know,
Determin'd on his wise religious plan:

2

That if high Heav'n him to his health restor'd,
His voice in hymns of gratitude he'd raise,
132

Duely attend the temple of the Lord,
And make his life one constant act of praise.

3

And shall not I, by his example led,
Sweet health returning to my weaken'd frame,
Thus rescued from the confines of the dead
Adore my gracious God & bless his name:

4

Taught by his chastning, yet supporting hand,
My duty and true interest to know,
The pleasant ways, the paths to peace regain'd
With the bright flame of heavenly zeal to glow?

5

Yes, O my God, thy praise I'll ever sing,
Thou heard'st me in the direful hour of pain,
Didst kind relief in all my sad anguish bring,
And gav'st me to behold the sun again.

6

To thee I'll dedicate my future days;
Subject my ev'ry passion to thy will;
And, while my tongue shall grateful hymn thy praise,
My soul shall joy thy precepts to fulfill.

7

The lures of pleasure & charms of sence
Shall cheat my now-awaken'd heart no more;
But a new Era I'll of life commence
Devoted solely to thy gracious power.

8

I stand resolv'd and thou all-clement God,
Benignly these my resolutions aid,
On me be thy effectual grace bestow'd,
That I, prepar'd, may ev'ry sin evade:

9

Firmly that I the ways of truth may tread,
And follow close the precepts thou hast given,
133

From virtue still to virtue by thee led,
Till I have reach'd at length my destin'd Heav'n.

10

Then I'll rejoice, affliction has been mine,
That I have felt thy kind correcting rod;
Thus fully prov'd the son of Love divine,
Of Thee, my Lord, my Saviour, & my God.

4
The Relapse

1

Vain empty efforts of humanity!
And is it thus I've kept the solemn vow?
Thus sudden from my resolutions fly?
The wretch I was alate, the same I'm now—

2

Base dastard as I am, I quit the field
To boist'rous passions leave my soul the prey;
E'en at the first assault supinely yield,
A rebel, where I bound my heart t' obey.

3

Thus when the shaggy tirant of the waste
Falls on the scatter'd flocks, the caitiff-swain
Deserts his fleecy charge with all his haste,
And leave the bestial master of the plain.

4

What tho' my soul they unexpected storm'd
And pour'd upon her with impetuous rage?
The noble resolutions she had form'd,
Had arm'd her sure their fury to assuage!

5

Fool! to forget the scared promise made
Of firm obedience to all-righteous Heav'n!
Fool! to forget, how ardently I pray'd,
To have my crimes & errors past forgiven.
134

6

And can I hope his goodness will assist
The enormous wretch who thus deserts his post
Who acts just as his lordly passions list,
In the wild whirl of impious anger lost.

7

Ah no! I feel the heavy weight of sin,
That if I'd conquer, I must sorely strive,
My faithful monitor forewarns, within,
Incessant contest, if with God I'd live.

8

And yet how hard!—too vainly we essay
To check our passions, in their full career;
Our poor weak hearts too suddenly given way,—
And lose their fortitude when danger's near.

9

So, in a tempest's rage, with headlong force
The torrents, rushing from the mountains, roar.
Mounds, dams & banks in vain oppose their course,
On all around they desolate pour.

10

Delusive plea, & indolent excuse!
Passions must be controul'd, if Heav'n we'd win;
The gates of mercy entrance will refuse
If we approch them, laden with our sin.

5
The Recovery

1

Delightful change! my heart again has peace
I feel my soul now to her God return;
The terrors of impenitence decrease
Again with bright celestial zeal I burn.

2

Wild passions now no more distort my frame:
Their base pernicious influence is o'er;
135

My soul now glowing with devotion's flame,
I bend beneath their tiranny no more.

3

Religion waits me with her lovely train;
The sister virtues all around me shine.
And now, a votary to my God again,
I cease to tremble at the wrath divine.

4

Rapt into prospects of sublimest joys
Which by his blood my Saviour for me won,
E'en Pleasure's gaudy lures and gilded toys,
Firmly, I scorn, and can with horror shun.

5

How great soever their attractions prove,
Let them their trophies & their conquests boast,
Thanks to me my God and his afflicting love
On me their flatt'ring, fatal charms are lost.

6

So to the wisest of the kings of Greece,
As by their dangerous shore the Heroe past,
The Sirens sung; in vain—the song they cease;
They see they gain not on his guarded breast.

7

Yes, O my God, to thee with humbliest awe,
With earnest love, I'll dedicate my days;
The rule of all my actions is thy law,
The sweet employment of my tongue—thy praise;

8

Thy grace conducting me, I look above
The narrow limits of this lower sphere,
The seats of light, the scenes of heav'nly love
My only mark for thou, O Lord, art there.

9

Sincerest thanks to thy correcting hand
That led thro' pain, thro' anguish to my bliss;
Strengthen'd by thee I now collected stand,
And fix my views on endless happiness.
136

6
The Prospect

1

What glorious vision breaks upon my eyes?
What heav'nly prospect charms my raptur'd mind?
What wondrous beauties sudden round me rise,
As if to dissipate my doubts design'd?

2

Sure Heav'n now opens to my longing heart,
And gives a prelude of those future joys,
Which it's high Monarch will to all impart,
Who strive to win the great eternal prize.

3

So to the weary swain, who travels long
A miry road, the verdant plains appear,
Whose flow'ry glades & breezy groves among,
He hopes his harast, panting soul to cheer.

4

Now are forgot the labours that are o'er,
His many toilsome steps in dreary ways;
A sweet continued prospect lies before,
His ravish'd sight, and tunes him all to praise.

5

O what a view of bliss? in transport lost,
I can't my wonder, my surprise express?
Sure these the shining fields, that joyous coast,
Where ever blooms celestial happiness.

6

Greece, boast no more thy fond ideal plains
Oh joys, Elysian, where Immortals throng—
Tis here, full in my view, that pleasure reigns
Which far exceeds the scenes thy Homer sung.

7

What rapture, O my soul! the minstrelsy
Of Seraph & of Cherub strikes my ears;
137

Amid the tuneful choir I seem to be,
And listen to the musick of the spheres.

8

Lo! what a flood of piercing light pours down
Thro' the Immense, & brightens all around!
This sure th'effulgence from th'Eternal's throne
On them who're with his mighty favour crown'd.

9

I see them all—O what a countless train!
Myriads & Myriads number not their bands;
Who'd tell the Blest that in these regions reign,
Might count in the extended oceans glitt'ring sands.

10

And does my God this place for me prepare?
And will these heavenly pleasures all be mine?
Shall I the glories of Immortals share?
O blest benificence of love divine!

11

Strive, O my soul, with all thy efforts strive
To please that Saviour—God who to provide
These bright rewards; his precious blood did give;
His life thy pattern and his law thy guide.
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