A Collection of Poems on Various Subjects :: :: University of Virginia Library

When first to Think your active Mind essay'd,
And young Ideas in your Fancy play'd,
While dawning Reason's unexperienc'd Ray
Drew a faint Scetch of Intellectual Day,
Your Parents, who the Laws of Heav'n revere,
And make Immortal Bliss their pious Care,
Assiduous strove by mild Instructive Light
To form your pliant Infancy aright.

292

Knowledge Divine they by degrees bestow'd,
And with blest Seed your Heart industrious sow'd,
Whence verdant Issues soon began to shoot;
A Bloom ensu'd, that promis'd generous Fruit.
Drawn by their Pray'r, from Heav'n descending Dews
Cheer the fair Plant, and Heat Divine infuse:
While watchful they destroy'd the springing Weeds,
Baneful to Virtue, which our Bosom breeds,
Nature's spontaneous Growth, that no Assistant needs.

Nor did your disappointed Friends complain
Their Hopes were idle, or their Labour vain.
Religion thriv'd, with pious Precepts fed,
And crown'd with Blossoms rais'd her sacred Head.
A Blow of Virtues, all of heav'nly Kind,
Mingled their Beauties, and adorn'd your Mind.
While Neighbours round unusual Joy exprest,
Admir'd the Son, and call'd the Parents blest,
Thinking your early Merit must presage
Uncommon Blessings to the coming Age.

293

But now the Season rolling on the Tide
Of Time arrives, when in the fullest Pride
Of Youth, your Virtue must the Test abide;
And to excite your Vigilance and Care,
The threatning Dangers, which attend you, hear.

Now downy Honours grace your manly Chin,
And high Spring-Tides with bounding Life begin
To smell your Veins, while active Spirits sport,
And Nature triumphs in her Vital Court;
Now, when unbridled Passions use to reign,
While vanquish'd Reason wears the Victor's Chain,
See Pleasure, fair and smiling as the Morn,
(Soft Silks her Limbs, gay Flow'rs her Head adorn)
Which with her Breath perfumes the ambient Air,
While sporting Zephyrs heave her golden Hair,
Midst her bright Train exerts her conq'ring Charms,
And beckning calls you to her open Arms.

294

Millions the beauteous Sorceress destroys
With her sweet Poison and bewitching Joys;
Bath'd in Delight, their Sinews feeble grow,
Lose manly Hardness and dissolving flow.
Her fatal Eyes, like Stars malignant, blast
Religion's Shoots, and lay her Garden wast;
Where Virtue flourish'd in her kindly Bed,
Now rank luxuriant Plants their Venom shed,
And Broods of Vermin from infernal Seed,
Detested Offspring! unmolested breed.

At first we play along the flow'ry Brink,
View the suspected Stream, and trembling drink:
Affronted Reason stings us with Remorse,
Suggests the Danger and obstructs our Course:
For Nature yet her Modesty retains,
Starts to behold her ignominious Stains,
And grieves her Beauties are so much defac'd,
Her high Descent and Dignity debas'd;

295

But the sweet Bowl's intoxicating Fume
Will by degrees our vanquish'd Sense benumb,
And o'er the Mind diffuse Egyptian Gloom.
Now Nightly Horrors cease to haunt the Head,
And we no more familiar Danger dread.
Our faithful Censor laid asleep within,
We undisturb'd take down full Draughts of Sin.
Repeated Prostitutions conquer Shame,
Assure the Face, and struggling Reason tame.

Tho' Youth untaught in Virtues heav'nly School,
Who ne'er rever'd Religion's sacred Rule,
Make swift Improvements, and with little Pain,
Mature in Vice, an Eminence attain.
Should you the Reins to guilty Passions give,
And to suppress reluctant Conscience strive,
You must maintain a long uncertain Field,
By Turns prevail, by Turns inglorious yield.
You'd sin and grieve, and by alternate Course
Know fleeting Joy, and permanent Remorse.

296

Now you would taste forbidden Fruit, and now
Repent your Folly, and renew your Vow:
Thus will your Mind a constant Strife sustain,
Amus'd with false Delight, or rack'd with real Pain.

Should you at length decide the doubtful War,
Renounce to Virtue, and for Vice declare,
You'll ne'er in Triumph captive Reason lead,
On Conscience wholly conquer'd never tread.
That dreadful Worm may long enchanted lie,
And roll'd in Volumes sleep, but cannot die;
Rousing at Times, indignant 'twill exert
Immortal Rage, and sting you to the Heart.

When Sickness, from intemp'rate Pleasure bred,
Confines you trembling to your restless Bed,
Where Musick, Wine and Wit would strive in vain,
To cool your Fever, and appease your Pain;
See, Death approaches with a horrid Pace,
Points to the Grave, and stares you in the Face:

297

How will the ghastly Form your Soul affright?
How will you start, and shudder at the Sight?
And while your conscious Mind shall recollect
Past Scenes of Life, and on your Crimes reflect,
What Gripes, what Throws, what Torment, what Despair,
Will seize your Vitals, and your Bosom tear?

While Sense of Guilt not wholly is supprest,
Misgiving Thoughts must interrupt your Rest;
The hardy Atheist, and the Libertine,
Who, Slaves to Vice, ne'er tasted Joys Divine,
May pass in Peace their Guilty Hours, which you
Who once did Heav'n revere, can never do;
Call to your Aid the Arts of Earth and Hell,
Th' upbraiding Guest within you'll ne'er expel.

I tremble now, to see your Trial near,
Distrust your Firmness, and your Danger fear:
The mighty Strength of Pleasure do you know,
Can you to all her Charms Resistance show,
And Victor, triumph o'er this lovely Foe;

298

To all the fair Seducer's Beauty cold,
Fly from her Arms, or loose her clasping Hold?

Should you presumptuous, quit your safer Ground,
And seek the utmost Lines, which Vertue bound,
And on the Frontier to engage the Foe,
With Reason's weak collected Forces go,
You'll soon those nice, ill-guarded Limits pass,
Throw down your Arms, and fond her Feet embrace,
In her soft Snares her Pris'ner she'll detain,
And will you then have Pow'r to break her Chain?

Then view the hostile Charmer from afar,
And not advance to meet unequal War.
Cautious retreat, and fly th' enchanting Sight,
You'll only conquer by a Running Fight:
Intrepid Courage is destructive here,
Where Victors win the Laurels, which they wear,
By gen'rous Flight, and wise heroick Fear.

299

The Foe has secret Friends within your Breast,
Perfidious Passions, which dissemble Rest;
All these, should you approach her Camp too near,
Rising in Arms, against you will declare.
By this strong Party lurking in your Heart,
Reason seduc'd, will to her Side desert.
The Fort of Virtue thus will be betray'd,
And you, uncautious Youth, a Captive made.

If in her Magick Circle you are caught,
Not yet benum'd and hard, correct your Fault;
Spring from her treach'rous Arms, and swift return,
Blush at your Folly, and your Error mourn.
Never despairing to the Sorc'ress yield,
Tho' wounded, still unconquer'd, keep the Field;
With Vows renew'd, and more attentive Care,
Against the Foe maintain eternal War.

300

While Pleasure draws her Forces in array,
Attentive to invade you ev'ry Way,
Your Virtue unexperienc'd and untry'd,
A Test of equal Danger must abide,
While you on Profit and Promotion bent,
Studious contend your Fortune to augment.

How will you gain the Favour of the Great,
Who Heav'n's Adorers with Derision treat?
With scornful Feet divine Religion spurn,
Against her Altars all their Battries turn,
Far from their Breast detested Vertue drive,
And to suppress their conscious Censor strive.

See, a strong Faction, sacred Light deny,
Plunge deep in Vice, and threaten'd Wrath defy;
Watchful to spread th' Infection they reveal
To Heav'n Immortal Hate, for Hell an ardent Zeal;
By Toleration bold, at Empire aim,
And haughty by Success, their Strength proclaim.

301

Those, who their Smiles and Patronage procure,
Must take their Test, and pious Creeds abjure.
They mock the Good, and only those support,
Who by distinguish'd Leudness make their Court.
Whate'er to break your Morals they pretend,
Stedfast on this unerring Rule depend,
They none but Party-Criminals befriend.

Should you reluctant Virtue's Cause decline,
Studious suppress your Sense of Truths Divine,
And bashful with their Ways in part comply,
You would in vain to win their Favour try.
You from your Breast must root Religion's Weed,
Not only sin, but disbelieve your Creed.
It must by daring Blasphemy be known,
By Principle you're Leud, and all their own.
Should you at length from Virtue's Camp desert,
To please your Patrons with Religion part,
Still a new Convert they'll suspect, and fear
You'r Change is feign'd, your Vices unsincere.

302

You by distinguish'd Crimes must Credit win,
Fam'd for strange Guilt, and new enormous Sin.
You Piety must Superstition name,
Exclaim that all Religions are the same;
The Prejudice of Education mourn,
And laugh your Parents pious Care to scorn.

Besides Applause, Esteem and general Love,
Another Test will your Religion prove,
Reveal you to your self, and faithful show
If from celestial Seed your Virtues grow.

Your clean, well-manner'd Wit, that flows with Ease,
With unaffected Strains must always please.
Nor sparing, nor yet lavish of your Store,
You never are redundant, never poor:
When you should entertain, you ne'er decline
The Season, nor impertinently shine.
You no Resentment by your Satyre raise,
Nor kindle Blushes by your decent Praise,

303

While your surprizing Turns the Audience charm,
And all the envious of their Spleen disarm.
These shining Parts, this elegant Address,
Will gain to Men of highest Rank Access:
All to your Conversation will aspire,
Applaud your Humour, and your Sense admire,
Parties of Pleasure will your Presence court,
And Crowds of Flatt'rers to your House resort.
While all shall you the Man in Fashon own,
The rising Wit and Darling of the Town.

When thus admir'd, applauded and carest,
Will modest Thoughts possess your humble Breast?
Can you such Praises unelated hear?
May not this cheering Breath, this soothing Air,
Nourish too fast Vain-Glory's secret Root,
And make its rank pernicious Branches shoot,
Till on your Mind they baneful Blossoms spread,
And drop malignant Dews on Virtue's tender Head?

304

While you your Hours amid'st Admirers spend,
And scarce to all their Favours can attend,
Will not your Mind uncultivated lie,
Religion languish, and Devotion die?
Without a Will or Leisure to reflect
You'll Heav'n forget, and sacred Rules neglect.
A sensual Tincture will pervert your Taste
Of Things Divine, with Rapture once embrac't.
And now the fair Ideas, which possest
Your Mind, by loose and vicious Thoughts opprest,
How will you wing your Way to Realms above,
And feast your Soul with Extasies of Love?

Conscious of Guilt, you'll not to Heav'n apply,
But dread your Judge, and from his Presence fly.
The coming World will cease to be your Care,
Formal your Thanks, and cold will be your Pray'r
To pure Religion you'll Indifference show,
And that Indiff'rence will Aversion grow.

305

Thus you'll proceed, till Heav'n severely kind,
By sharp Affliction shall correct your Mind;
Gracious arrest you in your headlong Race,
And make you Virtue's Cause again embrace;
Or angry let you plung'd in guilty Joys,
Obdurate perish by your fatal Choice.

306

On FAME.
[_]

Printed in 1714.

By what strong Impulse anxious Mortals strive,
That their own Fun'rals they may long survive?
Charm'd with its Splendor; all at Glory aim,
And ardent climb the tempting Heights of Fame.

Behold for this imaginary Good,
Intrepid Warriors wade thro' Seas of Blood:
Sages for this, with painful Labour spent,
Subvert old Systems, and new Schemes invent;
Now dive to view the Wonders of the Main,
Then range the Meteors, curious to explain
The Birth of Storms, and secret Springs of Rain.
While others studious 'midst the starry Skies,
Explore new Worlds with late invented Eyes;
Describe the Empire, which the Sun controuls,
And how each Planet round its Centre rouls.

307

The Poets own, their restless Aims aspire
To lasting Fame, for this they string the Lyre,
Exert their Genius, and exhaust their Fire.

And yet their Atomes scatter'd by the Wind
Thro' the wide Void, or to the Tomb confin'd,
Of all we say, unconscious still remain,
They taste no Pleasure, as they feel no Pain.
Do's Maro smile, when we extol his Lays?
Or Tully listen in his Urn to Praise?
Do Shouts of Triumph sooth great Cæsar's Ear?
Or Fame, young Ammon, thy cold Ashes cheer?

While foolish Men, with vain Ambition try
To live in Sound and Names, that never die;
Exalted Minds should Toil superior bear,
More Hazards run, and warmer Zeal declare,
Whose gen'rous Thoughts inspir'd by Virtue aim
At Blissful Life, and true Immortal Fame.

308

An ODE to the Supreme Being.

I

Hail Nature's Lord! from Thee their Source,
Brute Matter flows, and Thinking Mind,
Blest Center, whose attractive Force,
Enlighten'd Souls resistless find.

II

Mine, while it here an Exile lives,
Detain'd in Clay, with Night opprest,
Feels she's misplac'd, and upward strives
To Thee, and Heav'n its Seat of Rest.

III

See, as the Hart in Syria's Sand,
Gasping with Heat, with Labour spent,
Viewing with eager Eyes the Land,
Pants for the cooling Element.

309

IV

My Soul, great Power, her Way would wing
With like Desire, and swifter Speed,
To Thee, O unexhausted Spring!
Whence living Streams of Joy proceed.

V

Which cheer the Gardens of the Blest,
And all the Heav'nly Walks revive,
Which Saints almost with Bliss oprest
Do ever Drink, and ever Live.

VI

Freely the Miser may for me,
Amass-vast Heaps of Guinea's Oar,
Lord of the Indies let him be,
So Thou art Mine, whom I adore.

VII

With Science let the Scholar's Brain,
And pure Ideas overflow,

310

Let him all Nature's Works explain,
So I the Lord of Nature know.

VIII

While of my Wish I am secure,
The Soveraign Good at which I aim,
I'm blest with Pleasure, Wealth and Pow'r,
And envy not the Hero's Fame.

311

THE Safety of a Low State.
[_]

Printed in 1696. Translated out of Seneca's Agamemnon Chor. Argivarum.

The treach'rous Fortune of a Royal Crown,
Places whatever's Rich and Great,
On a steep and slipp'ry Seat;
Whence with an easy Blast all tumbles down.
Proud Monarchs can't command soft Peace and Rest,
Nor chase uneasy Fears away,
They know no safe and happy Day,
But painful Cares their Greatness still molest.

312

The Lybian Sea ne'er with such Fury raves,
When new collected Hills of Sand
Heap'd up by Tempests tott'ring stand,
And interrupt the loud impetuous Waves.
Euxinus, Neighbour to the Snowy Pole,
Where the bright Carman by the Main
Untouch'd drives round his shining Wain,
Can't with such Force his troubled Waters roll;

As when Kings fall, turn'd round by rapid Fate,
Kings, whose Desire is to appear
Awful to move their Subjects Fear,
Which Fear must in themselves the like create.
The Night, to hide them safe, do's Darkness want,
Soft Sleep, by which a troubled Breast
Is sooth'd, and lies dissolv'd in Rest,
Can't charm the anxious Cares, that Princes haunt.

313

The Men, who born by too kind Fortune rise,
Soon sink and fall down from their Height,
Prest by their own unequal Weight,
Whom those, who envy'd them, as much despise.
Great Fortunes can't their own vast Burden bear,
So the swift Ship's expanded Sails,
Swol'n out with too indulgent Gales,
The Winds, they wish'd before, begin to fear.

So a proud Tow'r thrusts his aspiring Head
Among the flying Clouds, but finds
Th' uneasy Neighbourhood of Winds,
And Thunder-Claps, that are around him bred.
So the rude Storms that shake the bending Wood,
Design an envious, fatal Stroke
At the ancient well-spread Oak,
The Grove's Defence and Glory, while it stood.

314

High Hills, the fairest Mark for Thunder stand,
Great Bodies are but seldom sound,
Such have most room to take a Wound,
And the fat Deer invites the Huntsman's Hand.
What fickle Fortune do's this Day advance,
It throws down with a greater Fall;
Estates, that are but low and small,
Last a long quiet Age secure from Chance.

He's only happy, who of meaner Rank,
Will ne'er his humble State resent,
But always in his Fate content,
With a safe Wind sails by the Neighb'ring Bank;
Whose wary Boat, that dares not trust the Oar
To the rough Usage of the Wind,
And the wide Ocean seldom kind,
Keeps still in prospect of the safer Shore.

315

Psalm 42. v. 5. Why art Thou cast down, O my Soul, &c.

Declare my Soul, why art thou so dismay'd?
So much dejected and so much afraid?
Why ly'st thou Agonizing in my Breast,
O'erspread with Darkness, and with Woe opprest?
Hoarce with thy Groans, and delug'd with thy Tears,
Still do'st thou feed thy ill-presaging Fears;
As fond of Woe indulge thy mournful Strain,
Enrage thy Grief, and aggravate thy Pain?
Why should'st thou thus in vain afflict the Air,
With the sad Accents of thy wild Despair?
Fly to thy God, and on his Care depend
To ease thy Burden, and thy Life defend;
He will dispel thy Fears, revive thy Heart,
And for thy Aid Almighty Strength exert.
Securely fixt on this Immortal Rock,
Thou may'st defy fierce Persecution's Shock,
And Earth's and Hell's Confed'rate Malice mock.

316

Psalm 2. v. 12. Kiss the Son, lest He be angry, &c.

Heav'n will not still th' Obdurate Rebel spare,
It suffers long, but will not always bear:
Sin grows so pond'rous in its perfect State,
Almighty Patience sinks beneath its Weight:
Rejected Love do's deadly Hate presage,
And Goodness scorn'd proves unrelenting Rage.
Rebel repent, and to thy God submit,
Cast down thy Self and Weapons at his Feet;
To his Imperial Throne due Homage pay,
Allegiance swear, and his just Laws obey;
Lest when his Kindness to Displeasure turns,
And his hot Breast with Indignation burns,
He should thy tremb'ling Limbs in Pieces tear,
And make thy guilty Soul his Terrors bear,
Terrors surpassing all that Man can fear.

117

If thy Delays long-suff'ring Heav'n incense,
And injur'd Love should arm Omnipotence
Against thy Head, say, whither wilt thou go
To scape the just, the sure, the fatal Blow?
E'er yet his Fury do's his Arm extend,
Sinner reflect, and make thy God thy Friend.
An humble contrite Heart his Favour wins,
For he will soon repent, if Man begins.
Should'st thou beneath his heavy Vengeance fall,
Who can deliver, who thy Fate recall?
Thou by his dreadful Wrath wilt be consum'd,
To Caves of Fire and Pains Immortal doom'd.

319

AN ODE TO JEHOVAH, Creator.

321

I.

Hear, O ye Heav'ns, ye Constellations hear,
And Thou, attentive Earth, give Ear:
Whirlwinds be gone, asleep ye Tempests lie,
Nor let ye gloomy Clouds, that float on high,
Your Thunder bellow, or your Light'nings fly:
And thou, O Ocean, Peace command,
Let all thy list'ning Waves erected stand
In Chrystal Heaps, as when the splitting Tide
Sav'd threaten'd Jacob from Egyptian Pride

322

Be each extended Vale, and rising Hill,
As Midnight husht, and as the Desart still,
Whil'st I of Seraphs æmulous, reherse
Allmighty Wonders in extatick Verse.

II.

Hail Independent, Perfect Excellence!
Of pure Immortal Light Abyss immense!
This and the Orbs around on Thee depend,
From Thee they came, in Thee they end.
Thou, Lord of Lords, Thou King of Kings,
Blest Source, whence all Dominion springs,
With Glory art adorn'd, and for Defence,
Begirt with dread Omnipotence.
Eternal, Mighty, Causeless God!
Heav'n is Thy Court, and Bliss is Thy Abode:
Nor can Thy Being but unchang'd endure
From Thy own Nature's Self-preserving Power,
While the vast Worlds, that roll in Air,
And all the various Equipage they bear,

323

Unable Beings, are upheld by Thee,
And, as Thou pleasest are, or cease to be.

III.

Above the Regions of Etherial Space,
And far extended Frontier of the Skies,
Beyond the Outlines of wide Nature's Face;
Where Void not yet inclos'd uncultivated lies,
Jehovah! Thy Eternal Throne,
With unprecarious Brightness ever shone,
Rais'd by Skill and Energy Divine,
From Thy rich Unfathomable Mine,
Whose Womb contains, without Decay,
Exhaustless Veins of Light, and glitt'ring Seeds of Day.
A Throne, whose Radiance cannot fade,
Of uncreated Beams, and Gems immortal made.
Pillars of vast interminable Size,
Such none but Hands Omnipotent can rear,
Which to a Height insuperable rise,
This mighty Weight of Glory bear.

324

Pillars of Adamant, Transcendent bright,
With blazing Heads of fine Celestial Gold;
Inwreath'd in Rays of Spiral Light,
Which Saints with dazled Eyes, and slanting View behold.
Here Thou, Great King, hast always sate,
Awful in blissful Robes of State.
Whence Trains, Divine Profusion, all below
Of long unmeasurable Glory flow;
Compleatly filling every Place,
And far outstretching all imaginary Space.

IV.

Collected in resistless Might,
With Majesty's bright Ensigns crown'd,
Here did'st Thou Reign, e'er Time began its Flight,
Or Orbs set out to run their Round.
Nothing, Supreme, Eternal King,
Father of Life, of Love, exhaustless Spring,
Nothing could e'er Thy happy State molest,
Which ne'er grows less, or is encreast.

325

Fixt on Thy Sacred Throne, Thou did'st possess
An all-sufficient Plenitude of Bliss;
And did'st unnumber'd Ages past employ
Whilst Thou, in full Delight, did'st Thy Blest Self enjoy.
Till Thou, Thy Goodness to display,
Beings of various Order did'st create,
To whom Thy Bounty might convey
Felicity, and not Thy own abate.

V.

The unfrequented Provinces of Night,
By hostile Motion never yet annoy'd,
Not yet discover'd by far trav'lling Light,
Profound Tranquility enjoy'd.
Thro' the void Regions of diffusive Space,
Unfruitful Solitude securely reign'd;
No Track appear'd on Desolation's Face,
And Silence undisturb'd her peaceful Throne maintain'd.
Till Troops of Matter, all unknown before,
New-rais'd by high creating Power,

326

Unregimented, raw, undisciplin'd,
Receiv'd the great Command to move,
And to intestine Feuds inclin'd,
Fiercely for Conquest with each other strove.
Confusion, Strife, discordant Noise,
And horrid Uproar's hateful Voice,
Vex the dark Regions of the Deep,
Where ancient Night her loneful Court did keep,
And where unactive Shade extended lay asleep.

VI.

Thou Necessary, Self-existent God,
With One Divine pacifick Smile,
With One Allmighty Nod,
Did'st all this fierce Contention reconcile.
Obedient to the Word Divine,
In friendly Leagues the new Allies combine.
To their respective Tasks they all repair,
The mighty Fabrick of the World to rear,
Of Providence supreme th' intended Theater.

327

The lighter Parts at Thy Command disjoyn'd,
Leave the dull Earth and pond'rous Dreggs behind,
'Twas Thou did'st give 'em Wings, and bid 'em rise,
Refin'd Materials for the Skies.
Aloft th' Etherial Rudiments ascend,
Around th' immense Expansion hung;
The Spheres their vast Circumference extend,
And tune Themselves preluding to their lasting Song.
At Thy Command th' unfetter'd Light
Emerging from the dark Abyss of Night,
At the appointed Rendezvous on high,
Muster'd its shining Legions in the Sky:
Th' assembled Beams themselves dispose
In glorious Ranks as Thou had'st Order giv'n,
And with their sep'rate Lines compose
All the bright Squadrons of the Host of Heav'n.

VII.

Thou did'st extend the waving Fields of Air,
And dress the Magazines of Meteors there.

328

How do's Thy Chimistry Divine
In full Perfection shine
Thro' the low Regions of the Atmosphere,
Thy vast Elabratory, where
Aerial Furnaces Thy curious Works prepare?
From Flow'rs and Plants beneath exhaling Steams
Persuaded by the Sun's insinuating Beams
Forget their Center, and forsake their Place,
And mount to fill the Liquid Space:
Then by Thy cool Alembicks chill'd,
They soon regain their Weight, and are in Drops distill'd,
In Drops of healing Virtue, which revive
The thirsty Earth, and make faint Nature thrive.
The Compositions for Thy Works of Fire
Digested here, Maturity acquire;
Thunder and Light'ning Thy Arcana, here
Concocted ring, or flame around the Air.
The hov'ring Snow descends at Thy Command,
And spreads its downy Fleeces o'er the Land:

329

Tempestuous Show'rs of rushing Hail,
Pour'd from the Crystal Quarries of the Sky,
The Earth's unguarded Face assail,
And on the Wounds they make, they weeping lie.

VIII.

Thou, Pow'r Divine and Wisdom to display,
The deep Foundations of the Earth did'st lay;
The beauteous Structure frame with artful Care,
And weigh the pond'rous Mass, and hang the Pile in Air;
Th' unshaken Pillars which sustain it, stand
Fixt on no Base but Thy upholding Hand.
Thou spak'st, th' aspiring Hills appear'd,
Their everlasting Heads the Mountains rear'd,
The Rocks of vast unmeasur'd Size
Obey'd th' impulsive Word, and sprung amid'st the Skies:
The humble Vallies now subside,
And with their Wealth upbraid the fruitless Mountain's Pride.
The starting Streams begin their Race,
And with their winding Arms the flow'ry Mead embrace.

330

Now Birds for Flight, their untry'd Wings display,
Beat thro' Aerial Waves, and cut the liquid Way.
The Flocks adorn'd the Hills, the Herds the Mead.
The bellowing Bull advancing at their Head.
The Woods with various Beasts were stor'd,
Where uncontroul'd their Yellow Lord
Slept in his Den, or thro' the Forrest roar'd.
The mighty Whale rolls in his weedy Court,
While Finny Trains around their Monarch sport
More Energy and more amzing Art
In Man at last Thou did'st exert,
Thy godlike Creature destin'd to command
The spacious Empires of the Sea and Land:
Thy wide Creation then review'd,
Pleas'd with Thy Works, Thou did'st pronounce them good.

IX.

Then let the num'rous Actors, which appear
In all the Scenes of this bright Theater,

331

Rivals conspire to spread thy Fame,
And thro' Thy list'ning Worlds, Thy mighty Deeds proclaim.

And Thou, my Muse, stretch thy ambitious Wing,
Swift from beneath, as Rays reflected, spring,
And ravish'd thy Great Author's Praises sing.
Ardent exert thy utmost Vigour, strain
Thy Vocal Nerves, and spend thy tuneful Vein;
Thro' all the Spheres and Orbs that hang around,
Thro' frontier Crystal Hills, that Nature bound,
Where-e'er thin Air, or Ether are display'd,
And far as sounding Accents are convey'd,
Fir'd with a sacred, pure, impulsive Flame
From blest Religion's Altar's sprung, proclaim
Th' Almighty's fruitful Pow'r, and propagate his Fame.

332

CONTEMPT OF THE WORLD.

I.

When Trav'llers pass from Town to Town,
And quit for Foreign Realms their own,
To learn new Modes and Laws, and see
New Cities and new Company;
They visit Courts, and famous Men,
Rais'd by the Sword, or by the Pen:
And are with curious Sights amus'd,
By Nature or by Art produc'd.
When Gallia gives no more Delight,
Italia sooths their Lust of Sight;
Till cloy'd, they next the Towns demand,
In Belgia's or Germania's Land:

333

Then tir'd with Show, the weary Wand'rers come
To rest in Peace and sweeter Seats at Home.

II.

So have I roam'd, and so pursu'd
New Objects, and new Places view'd:
I've tasted all the Pleasures here,
They are not lasting, nor sincere.
My present Thoughts condemn my past,
I've with my Notions chang'd my Taste.
To Eat and Drink, Discourse and Play,
To Morrow, as we do to Day,
This beaten Tract of Life I've trod
So long, it grows a tedious Road.
I have the World survey'd, and know
The Worth of what it can bestow:
It can no more new Scenes adorn,
The same known Pleasures still return;
What can the Coming Time afford me more,
Than I have often here enjoy'd before?

334

III.

I search in vain, in vain pursue,
Some Scene untry'd, some Pleasure new:
I'm tir'd with Hearing, tir'd with Sight,
Applauses are a past Delight:
The Wise and Witty, once my Joy,
By Custom now begin to cloy;
The Wise prescribe, the Witty rave,
These are too Gay, and those too Grave.
Who here on Earth would long remain,
In fleeting Joys and lasting Pain?
Should we not, eager to be gone,
Prefer to this the World unknown,
Hoping to find in happy Seats above,
Exalted Pleasures worthy of our Love?

335

Contemplative Solitude.
[_]

Printed in 1696.

O Fortunati minium bona si sua norint Agricolæ.

—Virg.

339

How much the Joys of Solitude excell,
The World's rude Mirth and clam'rous Sports,
The Noise of Triumphs and of Courts,
The Mind, that aims at Heav'n, can only tell.

She from the Body, loos'd by ardent Love,
Delights in Upper Sky to soar,
And mounts thro' Æther to explore
The Scenes of Bliss, and joyn the Blest above;

Who, Heirs of Heav'n to Godlike Empire born,
Enthron'd, Immortal Scepters bear,
Bright Crowns of solid Glory wear,
And look on Earthly Pomp with generous Scorn.

340

She sees them lay their Regal Ensigns down,
And lowly prostrate lie before
Th' Almighty's Throne, whom they adore,
And with Extatick Hallelujahs crown.

What Raptures inexpressible the Flights
Of Heavenly Contemplations raise;
The Soul breaks forth in Songs of Praise,
And covets These, and only These Delights?

Too much dilated for the Breast with Love,
And, with her Limbs of Earth opprest,
Eager she asks to be releast,
To feel more Ease, and find more Room above.

She aims and strives to reach the Realms of Light,
And chides her Chains and Screen of Clay,
And rising Fogs, that take away
Her Heav'nly Prospect, and retard her Flight.

341

Safe in Celestial, unmolested Seats,
From Clouds and stormy Winds, that blow
O'er this tempestuous World below,
She mourns as oft as she to Earth retreats.

No Fears in those mild Regions vex the Soul,
Seated secure, she from on high
Beholds the ruddy Lightning fly,
And hears beneath the distant Thunder roll.

She dwells secure from impious Angels Pow'r,
That stray in this low Void of Air,
And, watching with unwearied Care,
First tempt to Sin, and then their Prey devour.

Those Minds become more Excellent and Pure,
The more they Heav'ns blest Air frequent,
Air free from Damps and noisome Scent;
So wholsome Climates Mens sick Bodies cure.

342

When they from Heav'n and Solitude return,
Like Saints, like Seraphs they appear,
So fresh a Grace their Virtues wear,
With such pure Flames of Love their Bosoms burn.

This World is still so turbulent and loud,
That Heav'n's still Voice can scarce be heard;
Angels have oft to Men appear'd,
To Men retir'd, but never in a Crowd.

In silent Groves the Men of old grew wise,
Vot'rys in low Prostration there
To the true God address'd their Prayer,
There Pagans too ador'd their Deities.

To feast her Taste with pure Angelick Food,
The Soul does there herself compose,
Calmly devout and solemn grows,
Aw'd by the Shade, and Stillness of the Wood.

343

The famous Essens, Sages free from Care,
Who starv'd their Limbs to feed the Mind,
To gain Delight and Joy refin'd,
Did solitary Woods to Towns prefer.

Their Deeds were harmless, and their Looks untaught,
Of the next Silver Stream they drank,
Got a cheap Meal from some green Bank,
And far from Strife and Clamour liv'd and thought

In Fields and Groves unenvy'd Joys I find;
I Nature's secret Springs explore,
And her Almighty Cause adore,
Where Objects solace and instruct my Mind.

Like the rich Valley let me fruitful grow,
May Hills excite me to aspire,
Like them, to Heav'n with rais'd Desire,
And may my Thoughts pure, as the Fountain, flow.

344

Like Birds I'll send to Heav'n my grateful Lays,
The Sheep shall make me wish I may
Be useful, and as meek as They,
And hear the Pastor, that directs my Ways.

Both Birds and Beasts shall my Distrust condemn,
Which ne'er repine, but stray about,
Free from all Care and anxious Doubt,
And teach me to depend on Heaven, like Them.

Motives I ne'er shall want of Love and Praise,
For Heaven and Earth will still supply
My Thoughts with such Variety,
As will new Wonder, fresh Devotion raise.

Let me my Mind improve by all I see,
And by the Creatures still ascend
To the first Cause, whilst I attend
To Nature's Volume of Divinity.

345

A Closet or a secret Field with Thee,
Shall, Lord, to me be far more dear,
Than all the transient Pleasures here,
Than all the poison'd Sweets of Ease and Luxury.

346

A Thought of Death.

When I with Pain and Sickness strive,
And turning This and That Way lie;
Convinc'd, I cannot long survive,
Yet, not prepar'd, afraid to die;

Can I the King of Terrors face,
When he approaches near my Bed,
With threatning Looks, and awful Pace?
Oh! how his Presence shall I dread!

While on my Judge I forward look,
And back on bold repeated Sin;
My shuddring Soul, with Horror struck,
Will agonizing thus begin.

347

To the cold Grave when I commit
This ruin'd Frame of Lifeless Clay,
These dark Terrestrial Regions quit,
And wing my Flight in unknown Way,

Opprest with Guilt of Crimson Dye,
Can I th' Almighty's Sight endure;
To whose All-searching, Glorious Eye,
The brightest Angels scarce are pure?

At His Impartial Judgment-Seat,
In what Confusion shall I stand?
Can I by Fraud his Pow'r defeat,
Or wrest his Vengeance from his Hand?

Frown'd from his Throne, and doom'd to dwell
In Endless Torment and Despair;
What Heart can think, or Tongue can tell
The Stings and Anguish I shall bear?

348

Can I my dreadful Doom reclaim,
Or Heav'n's Almighty Wrath defy,
When pierc'd with Cold, or scorcht with Flame,
I ever Live and ever Dye?

Can I the fierce Remorse asswage,
And Self-avenging Terrors bear,
When Conscience, with Immortal Rage,
Shall my distracted Bosom tear?

These Penal Sufferings to prevent,
And gain the Blissful Seats of Day,
Let me, with Ashes spread, repent;
Nor more the Laws of Sin obey.

Why should I hardy forward go
In Ways, that Dying I shall blame?
Why still repeat the Deeds, I know,
I must review with Grief and Shame?

349

The Ejaculation.

I

Immortal Sun of Righteousness arise,
With dawning Radiance bless my eager Eyes:
On my benighted Mind Thy Beams display;
Kindle, O kindle there Celestial Day.

II

Bright Source of Blissful Glory, Lord of Light,
Chase from my Soul the Horrors of the Night:
Remove the dark Eclipse, the Shades dispel,
With which, encompass'd round (sad Fate!) I dwell.

III

Then I Divine Mysterious Things shall learn,
Shall Truth from Error, Good from Ill discern;
I shall my God, I shall my Saviour know,
Whence perfect Joy and Life Eternal flow.

350

An Expostulation with Damon, complaining of his Narrow Fortune.
[_]

Printed 1696.

His Creatures and his Subjects, we should owne
Double Allegiance to th' Almighty's Throne
Our Place is to revere his Sov'reign Sway,
Not to dispute his Will, but to obey.
To Heav'n shall our Remonstrances be sent
To plead the Justice of their Discontent?
For Life and all Possessions, to his Hand
That scatters Blessings, we indebted stand.
What he is pleas'd to take, you should resign,
Nor can complain of Wrong, since nothing's thine
What if your Fortune's mean, did not the Best
And Wisest, who in Heav'n outshine the rest,

351

Live in this Vale of Tears, despis'd and poor?
Some wanted Food and Garments, few had more.
And should you quarrel with your Fate, when God
Afflicts, but to direct you with his Rod
In the known Path, which godlike Men have trod?
Toil and Fatigue a Trav'ller best become
Amidst his Foes, and far remote from Home.
Pilgrims, as we are, while Abroad they stay,
Must quit th' Ambition to be rich and gay.
This is a strange and hostile Country, where
Of Pomp, and Pow'r and Ease we must despair:
We only hence a Passage crave to Bliss,
And that, whate'er we loose, we cannot miss.
No Wants or Woes can make the Virtuous seem
Base or inglorious, in their Lord's Esteem;
Favour Divine they never can remove,
Nor interrupt the Pleasures of his Love;
And Happiness to those is yet unknown,
Who cannot find it in that Love alone.

352

From Riches free you scape a Thousand Cares,
By Distance guarded from destructive Snares.
By a low State you kindly are deny'd
Th' alluring Baits of Luxury and Pride:
And weaker Virtue may be here secure,
Which Plenty's strong Assaults might not endure:
So little Vessels may in Safety ride
On a small River's smooth and peaceful Tide,
Where gentler Winds with soft and easy Gales
Scarce heave the Bosom of their humble Sails;
But if they put to Sea, too late they find
Their Strength unequal to a boist'rous Wind,
While thro' successive Dangers they are born
Split on the Rock, or by the Tempest torn.
Thus meaner Stations Virtue most befriend,
Giving what's fit, and more would but offend.

If now to Heav'n so painful is the Road,
What will it be with Wealth's encumbring Load?

353

Do your Endeavours now succeed so well,
And all Temptations with such Ease repel,
That your Ambition should a harder Task
Demand, and vast Herculean Labours ask?
That you with Care and Toil should purchase Foes,
And seek the Place, which thickest Danger shows:
Are those you cannot shun so few and slight,
That fond of Ruin you should more invite?
This were to ravish Death it self, and scale
The Gates of Hell, lest milder Arts should fail.
You aim at Heav'n, and will you chuse to stray,
And quit the plainest and the safest Way,
That you a longer Journey may endure,
Thro' Roads more difficult, and less secure?
Still narrow Fortunes are the safest found
Free from the Nets, which Wealth and Pomp surround:
The humble Valley needs but small Defence,
We justly dread the rising Eminence,
Where Sin and Death their chosen Forces post,
And Minds seduc'd are in such Numbers lost.

354

The greatest Hazard that your Fear should move,
Is lest the World should too obliging prove;
For then she's dangerous, when her smiling Art,
And splendid Dress, invite the yielding Heart;
But when she frowns, her Charms are lost, unless
You Misery pursue, and court Distress.
For such Unkindness may abate your Love,
And turn your Aims to Happiness above;
Make you for high Eternal Joys inquire,
And Heav'n pursue with more enflam'd Desire:
For still our Wishes after Home and Rest,
Are by the Badness of the Way encreast.

'Tis then because we disbelieve or slight
The Prize of Virtue, Heav'ns immense Delight,
That in an humble State we can't rejoyce,
And make nor Wealth, nor Poverty our Choice:
That Pomp and Plenty we so little dread,
So by the Living prais'd, and curs'd so by the Dead.

355

Assur'd of future Pleasures seek, no more,
Ask not soft Persia's Pride, nor Guinea's Oar,
So blest complain not that your Fortune's poor.
One of such Views possest, may well employ
His fleeting Hours in calm Delight and Joy,
Who, when a few short Days are past, will know
What Raptures from Celestial Triumphs flow,
Happy, if those who Heav'n enjoy, are so.
Why should you grieve for what you suffer here?
All these slight Sorrows soon will disappear,
And what is Transient, is below your Fear.

357

AN ODE TO JEHOVAH, Immutable, Merciful and Just.

359

I.

Immortal Muse, Essential Truth, display
Thy Heav'nly Beams, and whelm me o'er with Day:
Give Force proportion'd to my hardy Aim,
And kindle in my Veins Celestial Flame,
While I approach th' Almighty's blissful Throne,
And make in sacred Verse his high Perfections known

360

II.

Hail Great I Am!
The First and Last, Unchangeably the same.
Thou Rock of Ages, Thy Exalted Head,
With Clouds and awful Darkness spread,
Unshaken by the rolling Floods of Time,
Above Duration's Deep ascends sublime.
Thy undecaying Vigour ever reigns,
And still Thy Arm Almighty Strength retains.
Thou liv'st from undermining Years secure,
Which this low World with Revolutions fill;
No ages can abate thy Pow'r,
Nor change the setled Purpose of Thy Will.

III.

Vain Man, as soon as born, begins to dye,
And spends his Vital Stock apace,
Swift his successive Minutes fly,
Industrious soon compleat their destin'd Race.

361

The Flame it self, which ling'ring Life sustains,
Preys on the mould'ring Frame, and burns the wasting Veins.
He now an Infant cries, at Manhood now,
Does grasp the Huntsman's Spear, or Warrior's Fauchion wave
'Till bow'd with Years, and sunk with Woe,
Weary he stretches in the peaceful Grave.
His Mind as num'rous Changes undergoes,
At various Times, to various Ends inclin'd;
By Turns his Tide of Passion ebbs and flows,
Impetuous as the Storm, and fickle as the Wind.

IV.

The deep Foundations of the Hills,
And the strong Pillars, which sustain the Isles,
Sap'd by Degrees, shall wear and shrink,
And let their pond'rous Superstructure sink.
The Mountains, which so high in Air ascend,
That their broad Shoulders seem to bear the Sky,
With Age at last shall stoop and bend,
And buried in the Valley lie.

362

The Subterranean Roots of Marble Rocks,
Which Winds and Thunder's fiercest Shocks
In vain assail,
Eat by the surer Teeth of Time shall fail.
The Sun may from his Track depart,
May stand, or frighted backward start;
To spread his Lustre may forget,
And now delay to Rise, and now to Set.
The Crystal Spheres that roll on high,
And seem Corruption to defy,
By their own Motion shall decay,
And, like a fading Vesture, wear away,
The World shall strong Convulsions feel,
Sick Orbs shall This and That Way reel.
Exhaling Seas their ancient Caves shall leave,
And Earth's vast Ribs and Girders cleave:
Thro' the wide Chasm, the Sun shall dart his Ray,
And to th' astonish'd Center let in Day.
Fixt Balls of Light their Station shall decline,
And opening Graves their Spoils resign.

363

Fragments of Planets, Sheets of Sky,
And Stars abrupt, shall huddled lie,
In these last Throws of Nature's Agony.
And Time it self, that all Things does devour,
Shall perish by its own consuming Pow'r:
This mighty Sampson once shall break
The Pillars which the World sustain,
And of all Nature dreadful Havock make,
Then buried in her Ruins shall remain.

V.

But Thou, Great King! for ever dost endure,
From all Corruption free, and from all Change secure.
Thy happy Days will never cease,
Nor Thy Perfections lessen or encrease.
Thou art without Circumference,
A Center fixt of Bliss, a Sea immense,
Which ne'er from rising Storms Disturbance knows,
Nor with successive Tydes retreats and flows.
Father of Lights, Thy Self Essential Light,
Thy Face unvaried never fades,

364

Thou dost not rise by Day, or set by Night,
And never art eclips'd by interposing Shades.
Thou can'st not from Thy Purpose start,
Nor from Thy steady Rule depart.
No watchful Eye in Thee Mutation sees,
For as Thy Being, fixt are Thy Decrees.
Thou never dost, like fickle Man, repent,
Thy Words and Deeds ne'er disagree,
And when Thou'rt pleas'd to say, Thou dost relent,
The Change is made in Us, and not in Thee.

VI.

Hail Mild, Indulgent God of Love!
To Man what Pity in Thy Bowels strove,
When He, who by Thy Goodness was upheld.
Won by the great Impostor's Art,
Against Thy sacred Throne rebell'd,
And took th' Apostate Angel's Part?
Thou, by an Irreversible Decree,
Did'st not to Endless Death the Race condemn,
But that Thy Gracious Nature he might see,

365

Did'st of Redemption lay the Wond'rous Scheme.
Divine Compassion such strong Efforts made,
And did with such Success perswade,
That Thou Thy only Co-Essential Son
Did'st from Thy Blissful Bosom give,
That all, who His Celestial Message own,
Might the Blest Station, which they lost, retrieve.
Thou to Thy Uncontested Heir did'st say,
Be Thou of all Created Nature Lord;
The Subject World Thy Scepter shall obey,
And Lost Mankind by Thee shall be restor'd.
Proud Princes shall dispute Thy Right in vain,
In vain against Thy Throne combine,
Defy their empty Threats, for Thou shalt reign,
And, with Applause, accomplish my Design.

VII.

Patient how long dost Thou Delinquents bear?
What Blessings undeserv'd confer?
Not willing to destroy, but to amend,
Thou would'st by gentle Methods Man reduce,

366

Nor does the fatal Blow descend,
'Till Rebels proffer'd Life refuse.
Audacious Scoffers, with Infernal Pride,
Affront Thy Throne, Thy Government deride,
They mock Thy Threats, and formidable Pow'r,
Insult Religion, and despise Her Laws,
And, by their long Impunity, secure,
Provoke Thy Justice to assert Thy Cause:
Yet Thy Vindictive Lightnings thro' the Sky,
To strike the Wretches dead, refuse to fly.
Earth, with a Mother's Pity, does forbear
The proud Blasphemer to entomb,
Nor does the Pestilential Air,
With fatal Plagues, the impious Race consume.
They with Thy sleeping Thunder play,
And with Almighty Terrors sport,
Condemn as Fools those who Thy Laws obey,
And, by their Righteous Deeds, Thy Favour court.
Because Thou art not Man but God,
Thy mighty Patience can sustain so long

367

So heavy and so vast a Load
Of Provocations, and repeated Wrong.
Thy Heart is tender, and Thy Nature kind;
To Acts of Grace, and not of Wrath, inclin'd,
Quick to forgive, but to Resentment slow;
Thy Vengeance is constrain'd, but willing Mercies flow.

VIII.

Beautous as Mercy's Self and Bright,
Thy spotless Justice ravishes the Sight;
Thy Laws are equal, and Thy Ways upright.
Thy High Tribunal cannot err,
Condemn the Guiltless, nor the Guilty spare.
Thou show'st to Deeds distinguishing Regard,
The Ill do'st punish, and the Good reward.
Partial awhile Thou may'st appear,
And to the Righteous Man Displeasure show,
But to the Good, tho' oft severe,
Thou do'st not Bolts of Thunder throw.
Thou do'st Thy Rod, but not Thy Sword employ,

368

Chastise Thou wilt, but not destroy.
Long may'st Thou let Oppressors live,
And suffer Godless Criminals to thrive;
'Till Guilt to full Perfection grown,
Thou cutt'st the ripe Offender down:
And then Thy sudden Vengeance shall declare
Thou did'st not pardon, but the Stroke defer.

IX.

Bewilder'd now we can't Thy Ways explore,
Nor clear the Justice we adore,
In Paths perplex'd she's pleas'd to tread,
And wraps in Clouds her venerable Head:
But at the last decisive Doom,
When Men shall leave the cleaving Tomb,
And to Thy High Tribunal come;
When Thy Impartial Sentence Thou shalt give,
And all shall due Rewards receive;
When Godlike Men shall, crown'd with Glory, reign,
And Rebels groan beneath Vindictive Pain,

369

Then Justice, then shall Providence Divine,
Unveil'd, in perfect Lustre shine:
Th' Eternal Scheme of Government display'd,
And all Thy secret Counsels open laid,
Shall rapt'rous Admiration raise,
And grow the Glorious Theme of Everlasting Praise.

370

Matth. V. 29, 30. If thy Right Eye offend thee, pluck it out, &c.

I

The hardy Deed is done at last,
My Criminal Offensive Eye,
Pluckt out by Force, I've from me cast;
There do's the bleeding Rebel lie.

II

No more ensnaring Images,
Let in by that perfidious Gate,
Shall, by Surprize, my Bosom seize,
And guilty Passion there create.

III

Now for my Hand! at one brave Stroke
'Tis gone, I spurn it with Disdain;
Its Guilt no more shall Heav'n provoke,
No more produce my inward Pain.

371

IV

'Tis better far to enter so
Dismember'd into Heav'nly Bliss,
Than Healthful and Unmaim'd to go
Down to th' Infernal Black Abyss.

On Riches.

I

Allow a Merchant should forsake
His Kindred, Friends and Native Soil,
And should a willing Exile make
His wild Abode some Indian Isle;

II

Should Hoards of Treasure there pursue,
And Wealth above his Wishes find,
Which, when he quits the barb'rous Shore,
The Fool resolves to leave behind:

272

III

That Man is equally of Sense,
Of Reason and Reflexion void,
Who here amassing Stores immense,
In endless Labour is employ'd;

IV

Which, when he parts with fleeting Life,
And quits this World for that unknown,
He knows he must, with hopeless Grief,
Behind him leave, no more his own.

V

Good Heav'n! That Trav'llers, who must make
So short a Stay upon the Road
Of this vain Life, should so mistake
Their Journey for their fixt Abode!

373

A Paraphrase on the XCth Psalm, stiled, The Prayer of Moses the Man of God.

Tho' we unsettled wearing Life consume
Like our Fore-fathers, and without a Home,
Vagrants thro' vast and howling Desarts roam;
Yet Thy protecting Care Indulgent God,
Has been our constant and secure Abode.

E'er yet th' aspiring Mountains had their Birth,
Or the strong Pillars, which sustain the Earth,
Were reer'd, e'er yet the World's extended Frame
From the dark Vacant into Being came,
Great God, Thou art, and always wer't the same.
Destruction is th' inevitable Doom
Of short-liv'd Man, who breaking from the Womb,
Begins his hasty Journey to the Tomb.

374

When a few Days within its Vital Urn,
His Flame of Life has been allow'd to burn,
Thou bid'st him, whence he came, to Dust return.

The spacious Circle of a Thousand Years,
To Thee by Age uncircumscrib'd appears
But as a Day that's past with speedy Flight,
Or the swift Watches, that divide the Night:
Thou Human Kind do'st as a Torrent sweep
From Earth, who as the empty Scenes of Sleep,
Illusive Dreams and Shades, the Mind amuse,
And soon their unsubstantial Figure loose.
As the gay Offspring of the Verdant Mead,
Man in the Morning blooms, but hangs his Head
When Evening comes, decays and with'ring dies,
Or by the Scythe cut down in Ruin lies.

We in this wasteful Wilderness distrest,
And by unnumber'd Plagues and Deaths opprest,

375

By Thy Displeasure are to Sorrow doom'd,
And by Thy unrelenting Wrath consum'd.
To shew our secret Sins Thou do'st delight,
And set our Errors in the strongest Light
Before Thy Face; and accurate observe
Our Steps, that from the Paths of Virtue swerve.
Sunk and opprest by Wrath Divine, behold,
We spend our Minutes, like a Tale that's told;
Minutes, which with unheeded Swiftness fly,
And vanish like a Thought, a Breath, or Sigh.

The usual Period of the Age of Men
Extends its Bounds to Threescore Years and Ten;
And if by Nature, some robust and strong,
To Stages much remoter Life prolong,
Pinch'd by the Frosts of hoary Age they find
Pain in their Limbs, and Sorrow in their Mind;
Nor as in blooming Youth, by Steps decay,
But fly like Birds of swiftest Wing away.

376

Who form such true Ideas of the Force
Of Thy fierce Anger, as with just Remorse,
And pious Sense of their own Guilt, to shew
Becoming Fear to Thy Displeasure due?
Instruct us how to calculate the Train
Of our few Days, Days full of Care and Pain,
That we attentive may our Thoughts apply
To sacred Wisdom, and prepare to die;
And with th' Account made ready, free from Fear,
And unsurpriz'd, may at Thy Bar appear.

How long, Blest Lord, shall we Thy Absence mourn?
At length intreated, merciful return
To suff'ring Jacob; let Thy Soul relent,
Thy Bowels yearn, and of Thy Wrath repent.
Lay down Thy Arms, nor as a Foe destroy,
That we may taste our Change of Fate with Joy:
Soon, e'er with Plagues we wholly are consum'd
And to Despair unsufferable doom'd,

377

Dismiss Thy Anger, and Compassion show,
That we may Peace possess, and Pleasure know.

Let, in Proportion to our Sorrows past,
Thy mild Indulgence, and our Comforts last:
Nor may our fair delightful Days be less
In Number, than were those of our Distress.
By their Deliv'rance let Thy Servants find
Thy glorious Work, long promis'd and design'd,
At last compleated; let the Nations see
The Scheme accomplish'd of Thy high Decree:
And let of Thy blest Countenance the Light
And glorious Presence glad Thy People's Sight;
And that our Guilt may not Thy Work obstruct,
By Thee directed let us so conduct
Our Ways, that Jacob's Crimes excite no more
Thy dreadful Wrath, as they have done before.

378

Right ZEAL.
[_]

Printed in 1696.

Behold the Zeal of high Immortal Race,
In Whose bright Charms, you may its Lineage trace,
Admire this Fervour, and sublime Degree
Of Love Divine and generous Piety,
Which quickens Minds grown stupid, and imparts
An active Ferment to Religious Hearts;
Gives to faint Virtue, Force and blooming Grace,
And sheds fresh Beauty on her sickly Face.
It works not out in Froth, nor will it vent
In furious Heats its inward Discontent;
For Trifles, never will to Blood contend,
Nor all its Warmth in Noise and Censure spend;

379

But meek and peaceful, as the Sacred Dove,
Do's on the Soul in gentle Breathings move.
It smooths rough Nature, sweetens eager Blood,
Expels the vicious Part, and saves the Good.

It will its Rise and high Extraction prove,
By Charity refin'd, and boundless Love,
While it enlarges and extends a Mind
To the strait Compass of a Sect confin'd,
Till it embraces those of diff'rent Name,
And finds ev'n for an Enemy a Flame.
With Pity it reduces those that stray,
By mild and gentle Methods, to their Way;
But makes no Storms of Thunder break on those
Whose Errors less Important Truths oppose:
Nor do's with Racks or Fire the Stubborn tame,
Employing none but its own lambent Flame.

If it Reforms, it will some Faults endure,
And not enrage the Wounds, it seeks to cure.

380

It pleads for Peace, and strives on Mercy's Side,
Controuls fierce Rage, and checks ambitious Pride.
By such heroick Energy inspir'd,
And by this pure celestial Passion fir'd,
Men for Religion's sake and Publick Good,
Will shed their own, but not their Neighbour's Blood.

This heav'nly Zeal most Heat has always shown
For our Great Maker's Honour, not our own:
Insults and Wrongs, it can with Patience bear,
Provok'd forgive, unask'd th' Offender spare.
How sick without it, Piety appears?
What lean, what pale consumptive Looks it wears?
Its Beauty faded, and its Vigour lost,
It seems departed Virtue's Meagre Ghost.
This Zeal alone can make it fresh and fair,
Restore its Charms, and all its Wounds repair.
Such Courage springs from this victorious Grace,
As can the various Shapes of Terror face.

381

It makes us lay our Lives with Pleasure down,
For Bliss unseen and Triumphs yet unknown,
And with Delight perform the various Tasks,
Which Heav'n prescribes, and our own Safety asks.

This Zeal is wary, not inflam'd with Pride,
And walks not but with Knowledge for its Guide.
When it grows warm, its Lights are always true;
And when 'tis doubtful, 'tis as modest too.
Blest Zeal! how pure, how spiritful and clear,
Those Souls, that feel its active Pow'r, appear?
How much such godlike Heroes us condemn,
Whom they excel, as much as Angels them?

382

Psal. XCIV. 19. In the Multitude of my Thoughts within me, &c.

I

When Hell and Earth their threat'ning Frowns unite,
Muster their Terrors, and my Soul affright,
When my ill-boding Fears disturb my Rest,
And anxious Cares perplex my aking Breast;

II

When Snares are spread on all the faithless Ground,
And Rocks and Shelves encompass me around,
When thro' my Veins tempestuous Sorrows roll,
Their swelling Tide, and agitate my Soul;

III

The Thoughts of Thee, indulgent God, dispel
These Shades of Death, and change this Face of Hell:

383

From Thee, the Source of Joy, such Comforts flow,
As sooth my Suff'rings, and appease my Woe.

IV

The Thoughts of Thee my wounded Spirit cure,
Compose the Tempest, and my Peace restore;
The Thoughts of Thee, Great Power, new Life excite,
Revive my Hopes, and fill me with Delight.

384

The WISH.

I

O when shall my glad Soul releast
From these uneasy Chains of Clay,
To the bright Regions of the Blest
Wing with a Lover's Speed her Way?

II

Where ravish'd with His blissful Sight,
I my Redeemer may adore,
And in the pure Abodes of Light,
May live and love, and sin no more!

385

A HYMN TO THE LIGHT of the WORLD.
[_]

Printed in the Year 1703.

387

I.

Hail radiant Offspring! Emanation bright!
Pure effluent Splendor of Eternal Light!
Substantial Beam not of Created Race;
Th' Effulgent Image of the Father's Face,
Who of the blissful Persons hast the second Place!
Immortal Life and Love in Thee,
And the full Glory of the Godhead dwell,
O Co-eternal Majesty!
O Source of Goodness inexhaustible!

388

II.

Ee'r yet Creation was employ'd
To work her Wonders in the Wastful Void:
E'er her Incursions she begun
The spacious Realms of Night to over-run,
Or to secure the Conquer'd Ground
Had thrown up Frontier Worlds, and fenc'd her Empire round.
E'er Nature out of Chaos sprung,
The beauteous Orbs above in Order hung,
Or tuneful Spheres essay'd to roll along:
Before Young Time his Wings did try,
Or Days and Years his active Progeny,
Their lasting Breath and Swiftness knew,
Or in successive Circles flew:
Before the Mountains were brought forth;
Or Rocks had Roots, or Hills their Birth;
Thou did'st inhabit Boundless Light,
A Dwelling like Thy Self, beyond Expression, bright.

389

III.

But when from vacant Space Creating Power
Had rais'd the Seeds of Things, and Elemental Oar,
Dress'd Nature's Magazine and Wealthy Hoard
For unform'd future Worlds with crude Materials stor'd,
Projected from Thy Face a Vital Ray
Thro' Chaos made its radiant Way,
And drew the tender Lines of dawning Day:
Thy smiling Offspring new-born Light,
Freed from the gloomy Chains of Night,
Did from the dusky Gulph arise,
And spread its shining Wings, ambitious of the Skies.
The grey Expansion hovers in the Air,
To which new Beams from Prison loos'd repair:
Thro' all the Space the bright Infection goes,
And chasing ancient Shades away,
Do's all young Nature's Charms disclose,
And propagate the ripening Day.
These pure Emissions of Thy Glorious Face,
To Heav'n return their Native Place,

390

Reflected back to Thee, they wing their Flight,
Ocean Immense of Independent Light!

IV.

To Thee their Beams the Constellations owe,
Thou on the Stars their Beauty did'st bestow:
They, and the Milky Galaxy,
Shine by the Rays deriv'd from Thee,
Thy Magazines on high, that hold
Rich Stores of pure, Ætherial, liquid Gold,
Freely th' Expensive Sun supply,
And feed his boundless Prodigality:
The vast uncalculated Sums
Of Light, which daily he consumes,
Thy Treasures, whence they flow, can never waste;
Treasures, that, like Thy Self, for ever last.
Should'st Thou, the Fountain, stop Thy Glorious Streams,
The sick'ning Sun, defrauded of his Beams,
Would, with his dusky Orb, the World affright,
And yield his Empire to prevailing Night;

391

And thus the Sun, that borrow'd Glory spends,
More, than on him the Moon, on Thee depends.

V.

Are not the Crowns of high Seraphick States,
And great Celestial Potentates,
Crowns beyond Expression bright,
And their wide spreading Robes of spotless Light,
Of thicken'd Rays, and labour'd Glory wrought,
From Thy Immortal Wardrobe brought?
These Seraphs, who Thy Throne surround,
And spread, with prostrate Throngs, the Heav'nly Ground;
These Eldest Stars, Sons of the Morn,
Who sing Thy Praises, and Thy Court adorn,
With intercepted Brightness shine,
Emitted from Thy Plenitude Divine.
On Thee they gaze, and with their eager Eyes
Imbibe Unutterable Joys:
So long they feed their ravish'd Sight
With Beatifick Luxury of Light,

392

They view Thy Radiant Face so long,
They feel their Tides of Pleasure run too strong,
And with unequal Happiness contest,
Strugling with Glory, and with Bliss opprest.

VI.

Thy Beams irradiate every Mind,
Blest Seraphims above, and Men below;
Who Truth, by painful Reas'ning, find,
Or, like Thy Self, by Intuition know.
These owe to Thee their piercing Sight,
O Ever-during Spring of Intellectual Light!
Arch-Angels of superior Race,
Who to Thy Throne possess the nearest Place,
In more illustrious Robes of Glory drest,
And by their Crowns distinguish'd from the rest:
To Thee, the Fountain, owe the purer Rays,
Which their inlighten'd Minds to such high Knowledge raise.

VII.

Thy pow'rful Breath first quicken'd Adam's Frame,
Blew up and kindled there the Vital Flame,

393

And Animated Clay a Living Mould became.
Then the warm Blood did from its Goal, the Heart,
To run its Purple Ring with Vigour start.
Then Infant Life began to play,
To bound and leap along th' Arterial Way,
And carry'd on the circling Tide,
Did thro' its winding Labyrinths, and Veiny Mazes, glide.
The moving Frame began
To breath and speak, and act the Man.
His noble Mind Thou form'd'st of Light refin'd,
A Thinking Substance of Celestial Kind;
A fair and undecaying Flame
Pure, like th' Eternal Fountain, whence it came;
Which, stampt with Thy blest Image, shone
Bright, as the Cherubs, who adorn thy Throne.
Thou bad'st the Heav'nly Guest in Flesh abide,
And by Thy Skill the Knot of Life was ty'd.
Thus Half-Immortal and Half-Mortal He
To Angels and to Brutes ally'd,
A true Æquator is design'd by Thee
In Halves the wide Creation to divide.

394

VIII.

When with Mysterious Links the Heav'n-born Mind
Was first with Dust in Vital Union join'd,
Thy Offspring was all pure and bright,
A spotless Ray of Self-Existent Light,
Of thy full Glory an illustrious Beam,
A clear and uncorrupted Stream
Deriv'd from Thee th' immense Abyss
Of Life and Love, and Endless Bliss.
Then Upright Man, for Endless Life design'd,
With due Devotion did his God adore,
In Consort with blest Seraphs joyn'd,
Enjoy'd his Goodness, and rever'd his Pow'r.
His Breast was fill'd with Heav'nly Joy and Love,
Calm and serene, as the Blest Seats above.
He neither Sin nor Suff'ring understood,
Compleatly blest, because compleatly Good.
For Guilt and Ruin are the same,
And Bliss and Goodness differ but in Name.

395

IX.

But when the great Apostate's Art
Seduc'd the wav'ring Creature's Heart,
Man from his happy Region fell
To the destructive Gulph of Death and Hell;
Now Guilt's infernal Gloom, and horrid Night,
O'erwhelm his Intellectual Sight,
And Clouds, with Vengeance stor'd, his trembling Soul affright.
Darkness, like that in Central Caves beneath,
Like that, which spreads the lonesome Walks of Death,
Where never Ray one Inroad made,
The Rebels Mind did swift invade.
The Light, which he enjoy'd, abus'd withdrew,
And back to Heav'n, its Parent, flew.
His Breast of this Celestial Guest bereft,
Became a Den of salvage Passions, left
Without a Keeper, loose and unconfin'd,
Which now no Guide directs, nor Precepts bind.

396

X.

Whilst on the Earth such Darkness dwells,
Malicious Fiends forsake their hateful Cells,
Like rav'ning Wolves, or roaring Lions stray,
Hunt and devour by Night their Prey.
These Tyrants, as their Empire, did possess
This wide, unlightsome Wilderness,
And fierce infest th' unhappy Regions, grown
In Guilt and Blackness, like their own;
Should from the Earth the Sun conceal his Face,
What Terrors would invade this dismal Place?
Nature and Order would be soon depos'd,
And all their Subjects from Obedience loos'd;
Which their first Monarch Chaos would restore,
And prove the wild Assertors of his Pow'r:
Confusion, Misrule, Uproar, Chance,
His blind Adherents, would support
Their ancient Lord, and swift advance
To take their Stations in his lawless Court.

397

Since Guilt did first Admission find,
This is the fatal State of Humane Kind.
Passions Subjection to their Guide disown,
Insult their Soveraign, and subvert his Throne.
Fancy does fickle reign in Reason's Seat,
And Thy wild Empire, Anarchy, uphold,
Hostile Desires fierce Wars repeat,
By Turns victorious, and by Turns controul'd:
Which e'er prevails the Suff'ring is the same,
A Tyrant 'tis, tho' with a milder Name.
All that unhappy Man can hope to gain
Is various Servitude, and endless Change of Pain.

XI.

Thou, Kind Redeemer, toucht to see
Such Scenes of Woe, such moving Misery,
Did'st soon determine to dispell
These Shades of Death, and Gloom of Hell.
Soon as kind Heavn, of Love th' exhaustless Source,
Pronounc'd, that Thy Superior Might

398

Should break th' infernal Serpent's Force,
And to benighted Minds restore Celestial Light,
Early Thou mad'st Thy blest Essay,
And here and there did'st dart a Ray
Preluding to maturer Day.
In every Age Thou did'st indulgent shew
Distinguish'd Kindness to a chosen few;
'Till Thou to Abraham, and his pious Race,
More fully did'st reveal the Beauties of thy Face.
O Jacob, Thy Auspicious Star,
That promis'd Night should soon be chas'd away,
Smil'd beauteous in the East, and from afar
Did Beams presaging brighter Scenes display.
Then were the shining Strokes and Outlines drawn,
Then did the Morn of blest Redemption dawn.
The Fav'rite Nation was reviv'd with Light,
While Pagan Kingdoms lay involv'd in Night;
Had scarce a Streak or glimmering Ray,
Thro' the dark Maze of Life to guide their doubtful Way:

399

Only some Happy Men, who dwelt
Upon the Confines of Thy People, felt
A Skirt of that Resplendent Show'r,
Which on this Chosen Race Thou did'st abundant pour.

XII.

At various Seasons, and in sundry Ways,
Thou did'st dispense Thy Heav'nly Rays.
Sometimes the Form of Man Thou did'st assume,
Assuring Thy Incarnate State to come.
Thou, who did'st fit enthron'd on High;
Above the Convex of the outmost Sky,
Whose Robes of Glory, spread abroad,
Fill'd all the spacious Heav'ns, Thy blest Abode
Thou did'st forsake Thy Blissful Place,
To honour with Thy Presence Adam's Race;
From Thy sublime Immortal Throne,
To Abraham's Tent on Mamre's Plain,
In Humane Shape Thou cam'st in private down,
Attended but with two of all Thy Heav'nly Train.

400

Thou did'st converse, O condescending Grace!
With this blest Fav'rite Face to Face:
To Him, as to a Friend, Thou did'st disclose
Thy secret Thoughts, and thy Designs propose.
When pious Jacob, by Divine Command,
Return'd from Laban to his Native Land,
Thou met'st the Patriarch on the Road,
Who wrestled with, and overcame his God:
Crown'd with so great a Victory,
Well might he Esau's Force defy;
In vain the Pow'rs of Earth and Hell assail
The Victor Saint, who does o'er Heav'n prevail.

XIII.

Often did humble Moses see
The bright Eruptions of Thy Majesty:
Before that happy Hebrew's Face,
Thou mad'st thy glorious Goodness pass.
In Sinai's Mount he staid with Thee alone,
'Till with thy dazling Light his Face infected shone.

401

When Joshua first the Land survey'd,
Where Jericho's proud Kings the Scepter sway'd,
Thou, Warrior like, did'st in his Passage stand,
Thy Sword up-lifted in Thy threat'ning Hand:
And did'st Thyself the ready Chief declare,
To lead Thy People to successful War.
The pious General, with due Rev'rence, struck,
And, conscious of the sacred Place,
Off from his Feet his Sandals took,
And worship'd Thee fall'n prostrate on his Face
Tho' not the highest Angel of the Lord
Did e'er consent to be by Man ador'd.

XIV.

Sometimes without a Shape in Glory clad,
Or wrapt in Robes of awful Darkness made,
Thou did'st from Thy Etherial Seat
To these low Regions kind retreat.
But chiefly with the Mind Thou did'st converse,
And to thy People inwardly reherse

402

Thy Purpose, and Thy sacred Will;
And, with pure Light, their Understandings fill.
From Time to Time Thou did'st those Prophets raise,
To guide Thy People, and correct their Ways,
Some Lustre still Thou did'st dispense
To cherish Thy Inheritance.
And on their Minds did'st in a Pillar stay
Of Heav'nly Light, to lead the Way
Thro' this Pathless Wilderness
To Mystick Canaan's Realms of endless Peace and Bliss.

XV.

Thus Thy Etherial Beams Thou did'st display,
The Pledge and Preface of ensuing Day;
Which by Degrees o'erspread the East,
And, as Thy Rays advanc'd, encreast;
'Till rolling Years had all the Stages run,
Set by Divine Decree, e'er Measure first begun:
And now the Fulness of the Time was come
For Thee our Nature to assume.

403

Then Thou, O Sun of Righteousness, did'st rise
Spreading Thy Beams thro' Palestina's Skies.
The Prophets, those illustrious Stars,
Thy Envoys, Heralds, and bright Harbingers,
And all the glitt'ring Beauties of the Morn,
That did Judea's Heav'n adorn,
No longer now their Beams convey,
Sunk in full Glory, and effac'd with Day.
Thy gushing Floods of Light o'erpass'd the Mound,
And dark Inclosures, that did Israel bound,
And overflow'd the Pagan Nations round.
Triumphant in its radiant Course
It did thro' thickest Shades its Passage force;
It made curst Fiends from this Terrestrial Seat,
And all the Horrors of the Night retreat.
As soon as Thy propitious Star had blest,
With its fair Beams the Princes of the East,
They left the Sun, and their remote Abode,
An Orb of greater Lustre to adore,
Such as the World ne'er saw before,
Incarnate Glory, and indeed a God.

404

XVI.

Hail Prince of Peace! Hail pure embody'd Light!
The black uncomfortable Night,
That did these wretched Seats molest,
By Thy victorious Rays is dispossest.
Her dusky Legions routed fly
Before Thy shining Forces thro' the Sky,
To hide in Caves and Subterranean Cells,
Where ancient Shade in Silence dwells,
They haste away, and in Despair
Yield up to conqu'ring Light the Empire of the Air.
Blest Revolution! happy Hour!
That did this long expected Day restore:
This glorious, this auspicious Day,
That with its mild reviving Ray,
Cheers desponding Mortals Sight,
And back again to Hell sends abdicated Night.

XVII.

Blest be the Day, be blest the happy Morn,
In which th' Eternal Infant God was Born.

405

Let it in all the Pomp of Joy appear,
And with its brighter Glory crown the Year.
Ye swift-wing'd Hours for ever shew
The Rev'rence to your Soveraign due.
When it returns, halt for a while to gaze,
And bless this Pride of Time, this Chief of Days.
Mercy, Compassion, Pleasure, Peace
And Plenty, in your gayest Dress,
All your celestial Charms display,
And here your Annual Homage pay,
For is not This your Restoration Day?
When Weeks and Years, their circ'ling Eddies done,
Shall their appointed Course have run;
When aged Time his ebbing Streams shall see
Sunk in the stagnant Gulph of vast Eternity,
Let that blest Day escape the Fate,
Which on vulgar Hours must wait;
Let it be rescu'd from the common Doom,
And live to Ages still to come:

406

Let it be sav'd, that did Salvation bring,
And shew'd Apostate Man his Great Redeemer King.

XVIII.

When this blest Day returns, be calm the Air,
Let the fair Morn her richest Purple wear,
And let her spring from the dark Womb of Night,
Pure as the smiling first-born Light.
Let all her heav'nly Roses spread the Way
Before this glorious rising Day.
Let it advance, as lovely and serene,
As the blest Peace and Joy it brought to Men:
And let its Face appear so charming mild,
That all the Earth may see kind Heav'n is reconcil'd
In all his Splendor let the Sun
From his Rooms of State sublime,
As an eager Bridegroom run
To wed this Day, the fairest Child of Time:
Nor let the Sons of Art in Plannets wise
With long far-seeing, Astrologic Eyes,

407

Be able now to trace
One Spot or Speck in all his radiant Face.
Let no outrageous Winds the Seas molest,
Let Storms, their Fury sooth'd, in Caverns rest.
Let no black Cloud, no sullen Vapour rise,
To trouble, or pollute the Skies:
Let not a Frown appear
Upon one Brow, or on one Face a Tear:
Let Grief this Day be silent, let Despair
With no sad Accent vex the peaceful Air.
Let anxious Care not dare to sigh, nor Pain
Presume to groan, nor Anguish to complain.
Let nothing but melodious Lays,
Triumphant Shouts, and cheerful Sound,
No Voice but that of Joy, no Song but Praise,
Ring thro' the Earth, and from the Skies rebound.

XIX.

Let the succeeding Night approach in Peace,
Let not the Caves their stormy Guests release.

408

Only, ye Zephyrs, now prepare
Your softest Breath to fan the Air:
Curle gliding Rivers with a gentle Breeze,
With silken Wings pass rusling thro' the Trees,
And let no boist'rous Blasts essay
To interrupt your inoffensive Play.
Let no unwholesome Reeks ascend this Night,
No ill-presaging Fires Mankind surprize;
May only harmless Meteors take their Flight,
And shoot in lambent Flames across the Skies.
Let not the Nightly Raven croak,
Nor Owls forsake the Hollow Oak;
May no fantastick Horrors of the Air,
The late benighted Trav'ller scare.
Let no wild Beast rush from his secret Hold,
To fright the Shepherd, and destroy the Fold;
In cavern'd Rocks let no Sea-Monsters yell,
Nor Fiends the Earth infest, but rage and howl in Hell.

409

XX.

Ye Constellations with your clearest Light,
With your whole Store of Beams adorn this happy Night.
If any absent Star should not appear
This Night to grace the Hemisphere,
Cashier'd and broken from the heav'nly Host,
Let it in Darkness sink, and be for ever lost.
Ye Seraphims who did in Myriads stand
Rang'd on the Azure Frontier of the Skies,
That all the rolling Worlds below command,
And stoop'd and strain'd your eager Eyes
To see the Blest Redeemer-God
Take up in Flesh his vital kind Abode;
Strike your Immortal Harps, and raise
Your Voices to exalt his Praise.
The ecchoing Spheres with Sacred Anthems fill,
Sing lasting Peace on Earth, and sing to Man Goodwill.

410

THE Vanity of Human Life.

I

What art thou Man? Why all this Pomp and State?
Whence can this haughty Mien, these Looks proceed?
What can this wond'rous Vanity create,
And of thy self this Admiration feed?

II

High Thought of thy Extraction can'st thou have?
Art thou not fram'd of Clay, to Worms ally'd?
Rais'd from the Dust, and destin'd to the Grave,
The Grave of all thy Joy, and all thy Pride?

III

Art thou one Moment of thy Life secure?
Do's not thy Fate invade thee ev'ry way?
Do's not thy Vital Flame it self devour?
And will not Age and Aches bring decay?

411

IV

What means this Toil? why dost thou Castles build?
Why heap up Gold, and stately Houses reer?
Why do'st thou carve thy Roof, thy Chambers gild?
Do'st thou not know, there's no abiding here?

V

Thy Life, a transient Vapour set on Fire,
A misty Meteor kindled in the Air,
Will as the Evening's lambent Flames expire,
Or as the Morning Dew soon disappear.

VI

This World's illusive Scenes of Vanity,
Of painted Pageants, and of gaudy Toys,
Can lasting Treasure ne'er supply,
Nor pure Delight, that never cloys.

412

VII

All real Pleasure that we here enjoy,
Is on our pious Actions to reflect,
Our Lives in Virtue constant to employ,
And the Reward of Virtue to expect.

413

Happiness Discover'd.
[_]

Printed in the Year 1696.

With fruitless Toil I've search'd the World to find
Pleasures adapted to a Deathless Mind:
Honour, Abundance and Delights have spent
Their Smiles in vain to give my Breast Content:
The Joys they bring, which please a sensual Taste,
Dissolve and disappear, when close embrac'd;
Never extinguish, but inflame Desire,
And add fresh Fuel to a restless Fire.
What is a Drop to those, who cry, we burst
With feverish Drought, and for a River thirst?
My Mind can grasp each India's wealthy Store,
And still continue empty as before.
For Earthly Pleasures their Intention miss,
Ingulph'd and swallow'd in a vast Abyss.

414

When a small Current, or a single Wave,
Shall fill the Deep, and crown the ample Cave;
When a few Sands of this Terrestrial Mass
Shall rise, and spread the whole Etherial Space;
Then may the Treasures, which on Earth I find,
The Compass fill of my capacious Mind.

I have survey'd whate'er the World can shew,
All that it promises, but gives to few;
And still some lasting Happiness I want,
Which these vain Scenes of Life can never grant.
Hence, Power supreme, my Thoughts to Thee ascend,
The Cause of all Things, and their Guide and End;
Thy Goodness inexpressible, immense,
And far remov'd above the Reach of Sense,
Which is most pure, and will for ever last,
Can only please, and satisfy my Taste.

I find my Soul is from her Center driv'n,
While here misplac'd she strives and aims at Heav'n

415

And is to some superior Good inclin'd,
Which she despairs, except in Thee, to find.
My Faculties Thy-self can entertain,
Thou did'st not make those Faculties in vain.
And, as I can, so I aspire to be
Happy for ever in enjoying Thee.
On Earth of Thy Blest Face a transient Glance,
Do's so transport, and so my Mind advance,
That I am conscious I could ever rest
In Thy full Sight, and be compleatly blest.
When I Thy Glorious Attributes admire,
And to Thy Presence full of Bliss aspire,
I such pure Pleasures, such Delights enjoy,
Delights that always grow, and never cloy,
That I no more with doubtful Thoughts contend,
But rest convinc'd, that for this happy End
These Faculties Thou did'st on me bestow,
My Will to love Thee, and my Mind to know.
How shall my useless Soul its Vigour spend,
If not in loving Thee, its Cause and End?

416

If Joys Divine my Breast must never fill,
Why have I Godlike Reason? Why a Will?
The low Delights of Sense might be enjoy'd,
Were I of Choice depriv'd, of Reason void:
These Objects in Perfection I might taste,
Were I a Salvage, or Domestick Beast.

Felicity on Earth I seek in vain,
New Disappointments still renew my Pain.
The more I grasp, the more my Wants require,
Fresh Acquisitions but encrease Desire;
My Wishes still unsatisfy'd Return,
And make me all my lost Endeavours mourn.

Heav'n does to all, but Man, Perfection grant,
That, with their Happiness upbraid my Want.
No Hopes or Fears unanxious Stones molest,
Which in the Earth's Embraces peaceful rest.
Trees to their destin'd Size and Stature grow,
And no Defect of Fruit or Branches know.

417

Flowers fully blown perfume the ambient Air,
And in their Smiles consummate Beauty wear.
Beasts that the Forrest range, or feed in Stalls,
Blest with Supplies, for which their Nature calls,
Pleas'd with themselves, are happy Animals.
Above the Field their Wishes never fly,
Nor do their Looks erect regard the Sky.
No Thoughts of Joys Divine and Bliss immense,
Tempt them to scorn the low Delights of Sense;
No Views of vast Eternity can show
To them how short their Pleasures are below;
Nor can they Dangers at a Distance see,
But from the Fears of Death and Torment free,
They still possess Tranquility and Rest,
And are with pure unmix'd Enjoyments blest;
While conscious Minds, that high as Heav'n can climb,
And look beyond the ebbing Streams of Time,
Become unhappy by their Eminence,
Their Reason serves but to disturb their Sense.

418

When the sad Mind her solemn Thought employs,
And finds she's form'd to taste immortal Joys,
And on her high Divine Descent reflects,
She scorns this World, and all its Toys rejects.

Since then my Native Faculties aspire
To Heav'n, and endless Happiness require,
To this my Wish right Reason will agree,
Would I had never been, or may I always Be!
If some refin'd and intellectual Good,
Which I demand, and anxious have pursu'd,
By persevering Zeal I cannot gain,
I all my Soul's Capacities arraign
As useless, as impertinent and vain.

I hence infer our Author must intend
Himself alone Man's Beatifick End.
On those pure Minds he'll this Reward bestow,
Who mock'd this World, and spurn'd the Pride below.
What This denies, the Coming Life will give,
Where in Eternal Bliss the Just shall live.

419

A Morning Thought.

I

How much the Night's refreshing Rest
Has lull'd my Thoughts, and eas'd my Breast,
Which now becomes a peaceful Scene,
Like this fair Morn, these Skies serene?

II

My Soul impatient of Delay,
Thro' Heights Etherial wings her Way,
And like the Lark in early Lays,
Do's Light's Immortal Fountain praise.

III

But oh! from this Celestial Seat
To Earth reluctant I retreat,

420

Where, while I sojourn, I must bear
Affronts and Wrongs, Fatigue and Care.

IV

Thence rising Vapours Night display,
Oppress my Mind and cloud my Day,
Spread black Pollution o'er my Soul,
While murmuring Tempests inward roll.

V

Oh! when shall I, from Business free,
From Cares and Noxious Company,
To the pure Seats above aspire,
By Thoughts Divine engrost entire?

VI

Then shall I still unhinder'd rise,
And keep blest Commerce with the Skies;
Sill Heav'ns serene and cloudless see
Fix'd, Power Supreme, alone on Thee.

421

A HYMN TO THE SACRED SPIRIT.

423

I.

Hail Sacred Spirit! Hail Immortal Dove!
Essential Purity, Uncomprehended Love!
Hail Vigour Emicant! Effulgent Beam!
The Uncreated, Co-existent Stream,
Proceeding from the Father, and the Word,
In a high mysterious Way,
That finite Wit can ne'er display;
'Tis not to be unfolded, but ador'd.
In Thee, Eternal Love and Grace Divine,
The full Perfections of the Godhead shine:

424

Thou art of Goodness an immense Abyss,
An ever-during Spring of perfect Joy and Bliss.

II.

Nature and all her numerous Progeny,
Prolifick Spirit, sprung from Thee;
The blest Inhabitants above,
That People all the Seats of Life and Love,
All Things, which these inferior Regions bear,
That range the Fields, or in the Ocean feed,
That cut the Lakes, or beat the Air,
From Thy exhaustless Energy proceed.
Did'st Thou not move on the dark Water's Face,
And with expanded Wings the Deep embrace,
To form the Seeds of Light, and to produce
Enlivening Ferments fit for Nature's Use?
Thy fruitful Leven, with resistless Might,
Diffus'd its Vigour thro' the Plains of Night.
Old Shade and Cold were soon depos'd,
And Heat and Light were from their Fetters loos'd:

425

All Chaos labour'd with the Genial Strife,
And felt the Struglings of prevailing Life.
Soon did the crude and formless Mass
Put on Distinction, and a charming Face:
Soon from the dark Abyss arose,
This, and the Worlds around, which the vast Whole compose.

III.

In the Great Consult Thou did'st joyn
To carry on the blest Design
Of raising wretched Man from Sin and Hell
To the high Station, whence th' Apostate fell.
This Project of Inimitable Love
Thou did'st from all Eternity approve.
Mov'd with Compassion's tender Cries,
Mankind to rescue and convert,
Thou in the gracious Enterprize
Did'st condescend to bear a Glorious Part.

IV.

The Mind, e'er Guilt had Man undone,
With Heav'nly Lustre, like blest Seraphs, shone.

426

Of Fault unconscious and unstain'd
In unpolluted Flames of Love,
And pure Desires it upwards strove,
And full of Peace and Joy the happy Creature reign'd.
Since Sin these Regions did invade,
What Desolation has the Tyrant made?
While Man a willing Slave to Guilt becomes,
The World a Scene of murder'd Souls appears,
Interr'd in living Sepulchres,
And moved from Place to Place in walking Tombs.
Sad State of Things, the Human Being's Dead,
And the Brute Beast lives in his Shape and Stead.
Black Guilt involves the World in horrid Night,
And clouds our Intellectual Sight.
The Soul is darker than the deepest Cave,
Hard as the Rock, and colder than the Grave;
Which Hell wants Terrors to affright,
And Heav'n sufficient Pleasures to invite.
Thou, to fulfil the high Decree,
Enroll'd in Heav'n from past Eternity,

427

Did'st undertake the Chosen to inspire,
With new enliv'ning Light, and pure Immortal Fire.

V.

Soon as the Sun of Righteousness appear'd,
Emerging from the Shades beneath,
And from the Grave his Head in Triumph rear'd,
Leading his fetter'd Captives Sin and Death,
And then ascended thro' th' Etherial Road
To his high Throne, and blest Abode,
He on his gracious Purpose bent,
His promis'd Blessing Thee, Great Spirit, sent,
Of pious Minds to be th' unerring Guide,
And stretch his Heav'nly Empire far and wide.

VI.

These Regions Thy Almighty Fruitfulness
With a Celestial Progeny does bless.
Seraphs look down from Heav'n to see
Th' Effects of Thy diffusive Energy,
Transported view th' Immortal Vigour spread,
Awak'ning, as it goes, the drousy Dead.

428

Thy Light benighted Minds pervades,
Repairs their Ruins, and dispels their Shades,
Whence they regain their first exalted State,
A Work, as nobly Great, as to Create!
And when the Sons of God are thriv'n
In this Terrestial Nursery of Heav'n,
Thy Colonies Thou kindly dost remove,
From these low Seats to people those above.

VII.

Only the chosen, happy Few,
Whom Thou art pleas'd, pure Spirit, to renew,
Can aim at Bliss, and warm with Love Divine,
The worthless Trifles here, with Scorn, decline.
The senseless Many, who possess
This World, ah wretched Happiness!
Without a Vital Principle within,
Benumb'd with Guilt, and stupify'd with Sin,
Bereft of Feeling, and of Sight,
Have no Perception of Divine Delight:

429

They strive no Heav'nly Pleasure to acquire,
For what they cannot taste, they can't desire.
When the pale Dead shall in the Grave
Demand rich Wines, and Banquets crave;
When Beasts, to live with Men, the Forrest quit,
And show a Sense of Eloquence and Wit;
Then shall th' Impure, unhallow'd Race,
Unconscious of Celestial Grace,
Feel sacred Transports, and express
Relish of Joys Divine, and Endless Happiness.
Thy Radiance, which illuminates the Mind,
And all bright Virtues of Etherial Kind,
They censure, as a Visionary Dream,
The Wonders of Thy Grace condemn,
Hard and like the Jews, Thy Acts of Power blaspheme.
Subjects Divine, which they illusive treat,
Are now the Priest's, and now the Statesman's Cheat,
Fanatick Cant, and Fancy's feverish Heat.

430

VIII.

When Christ had finish'd his Divine Intent,
His Labour of unrivall'd Love,
And made in Triumph his Ascent,
To sit enthron'd in Light above,
Dejected, and disconsolate,
Th' afflicted Twelve in Counsel sate,
And did Thy promis'd Coming wait:
Thou, from on high, did'st make a swift Descent,
(A rushing Wind before Thee went,)
And resting on their Heads in Tongues of Fire,
With Fortitude Divine did'st their warm Breasts inspire;
Kindly Thou cam'st to strengthen their Belief,
Confirm their Courage, and abate their Grief,
To clear from Mists their Intellectual Sight,
And fill their Minds with Truth and Heav'nly Light.

IX.

The Saviour King sent Thee his Advocate,
To manage here the Int'rests of his State,

431

To plead with Unbelieving Man his Cause,
And win him to obey, and love his equal Laws;
Full Pow'rs to Thee, his Resident, were giv'n
To treat and settle lasting Peace
Between the guilty Earth and Heav'n,
And Sin's unhappy Captives to release.

X.

Inmate Divine! Celestial Guest!
Who dost inhabit every pious Breast,
Vile Man becomes, when purify'd by Grace,
Thy Living Temple, and abiding Place.
His Heart is made Thy Altar, whence
To Heav'n arise pure Flames of holy Fire,
It moves by Thy impulsive Influence,
And feels the God within, fresh Heat and Life inspire.
Minds, destitute of Native Purity,
Quicken'd, ennobled and refin'd by Thee,
To the blest Seats above aspire,
Wing'd with Celestial Love, and strong Desire.

432

They by their striving upward prove
Th' attractive Center is above,
Thither their Motions they direct,
All which the Sun of Righteousness respect:
Govern'd by Him they take their Course,
Drawn by his Glorious Orb's Magnetic Force.

XI.

Thou in the Mind the noble Plant dost rear
Of Life Divine, and its Immortal Root,
With Heav'nly Dews, and Heat indulgent, cheer,
'Till fresh it springs, presaging generous Fruit;
'Till all abroad its Branches spread,
And to the distant Regions of the Skies,
Is raises swift its verdant Head,
And thence all hostile Pow'r defies.
Let Persecution now her Ars'nals drain,
And for sure Ruin arm'd employ
Her vet'ran Deaths, and most experienc'd Pain,
Thy blest Production to destroy;

433

Let heavy Tempests groan along the Air,
Let Fire and Rain confed'rate Wrath prepare,
And must'ring Clouds denounce outrageous War,
Thy Offsspring will their rude Assaults sustain,
Which on its Head will spend their Rage in vain.
Prest with the Storms impetuous Shock,
It may from Side to Side incline and rock,
But still it shall preserve its Root untorn,
Still shall its blooming Head its Parent Heav'n adorn.

434

THE RETIREMENT.

If I, of so much Happiness possest,
Of bounteous Heav'n might greater Bliss re-request,
At a fit Distance from this noisy Town,
A small neat Box would all my Wishes crown.
To suit my Fancy let the Building stand
In a dry Air, upon a rising Land,
On whose green Face the Southern Sun displays
His warmest Glory and his kindest Rays.
A murmuring Brook should at the Foot complain,
And sweep the Meadows with its Silver Train.
Oft by the Crystal Stream I'd walk and think,
Oft sit and write upon the flow'ry Brink.
Let on the North a Grove of ancient Oaks,
Or lofty Elms from all the furious Strokes

435

Of Snowy Boreas and his stormy Pow'rs
Protect my Dwelling, Fruits and springing Flow'rs.
I must have Books, Books are my daily Food,
But I demand but few, for few are good.
I ask the Works of deep and clear Divines,
First Tillotson's, by whose Immortal Lines,
Britannia's happy Isle inlighten'd shines:
Celestial Genius! whose seraphick Pen
To Men transforms wild Beasts, to Angels Men.

Then of the Poets, I would Milton chuse,
Of all, that Albion boasts, the noblest Muse.
His hardy Efforts boldly did explore
Regions untrodden and unknown before.
None e'er had Courage to attempt his Flight,
None Strength of Wing to soar to such a Height.
Cowley once pleas'd me with his careless Charms,
Whose sprightly Vein the Reader often warms.
Still I delight in Waller's easy Song,
The great Refiner of the English Tongue.

436

He first reform'd th' unpolish'd Poets Faults,
Pure in Expression, and as chast in Thoughts.
I grieve, I can't in the fam'd Spencer find
The Charms, that touch and captivate Mankind.
Forgive, great Bard, my undiscerning Taste,
My want of Relish can't thy Beauties blast,
Lines that have liv'd so long, must ever last.

Some good Historians I would likewise chuse,
Fit to instruct me, or at least amuse;
Where I'd the Actions of the Ancients read,
Recal past Ages, and revive the Dead.
Travels by Men of Sense and Voyages,
Writ with good Judgment, would my Fancy please;
Here I should Nature's various Wonders view,
And to admire should still find something new.
I'd by their Help thro' all the Kingdoms go,
Where fertile Nile, or fam'd Euphrates flow;
I would their Manners, Arts and Customs know.

437

I would the Rocks and stormy Winds deride,
And fearless cut the Deep's impetuous Tide:
I'd range the World, and in my Closet roul
From East to West, and visit either Pole;
Would sail to ev'ry Continent and Isle,
And safe at Home enjoy the Trav'ller's Toil.
I ask a Friend, whom I might often meet,
Of pleasant Conversation and Discreet;
Whose Faithfulness is by Experience prov'd,
One pleas'd with me, and fit to be belov'd;
One who do's ill and mean Designs detest,
Of open Hand, but of a secret Breast.

438

A Thought of Repentance.

Let down my Cheeks, my melting Heart
In trickling Streams incessant flow,
Let mournful Looks my Grief declare,
And Sighs my deep Contrition show.

Let Woe, Confusion, blushing Shame,
My Breast inhabit, and express
In my sad Face their wildest Shape,
While I to Heav'n my Guilt confess.

Would my sad Eyes were Springs of Tears,
My Head an unexhausted Source
Of wat'ry Stores, that moist Supplies
Might feed my Sorrow's endless Course.

439

On me, kind Saviour, cast a Look
Like that to guilty Peter sent,
That touch'd, like his, my Soul may grieve,
And yield to weeping Trouble vent.

Should not a Wretch with numerous Stains,
And Wounds and Sores so overspread,
To some unpeopled Desart fly,
Or hide in some dark Cave his Head?

Should I not leave frequented Towns,
The Seats of Mirth, and Sons of Joy,
That I my short Remains of Life
May penitent in Sighs employ;

That I my Actions may review,
My Faults and Follies past bewail,
And for Remission prost'rate cry
To Heav'n, till constant Pray'r prevail?

440

But tho' a bleeding Heart's requir'd,
No Grief by Contrite Sinners shown,
Without the Merits of the Cross,
Th' incens'd Almighty can atone.

Saviour to Thee, to Thee I fly,
With wrathful Justice intercede;
That I Forgiveness may obtain,
Thy dying Passion gracious plead.

441

THE CARTONS OF RAPHAEL URBIN, IN THE Gallery at Hampton-Court.
[_]

Printed in 1703.

443

[Stay, Stranger, here, in this Apartment stand]

Stay, Stranger, here, in this Apartment stand,
And view the Wonders of great Raphael's Hand;
Whose Skill do's all the Sons of Art controul,
They only paint the Body, he the Soul.
Such Admiration will thy Eyes possess,
As none but Raphael's Pencil can express.

444

THE STORY of ANANIAS.

See Peter there, who by his fatal Breath
At once gave Sentence, and inflicted Death:
His Eyes just Zeal and Indignation wear,
Such awful Frowns his Face and such an Air,
As all to Heav'n's Commissioner allow,
While Justice sate vindictive on his Brow.

See Ananias there resigns his Breath;
How Raphael lives in that Immortal Death!
Down the Dissembler fell amid'st the Crowd,
As struck with Flashes from an opening Cloud,
Or deadly Damps, which Caves beneath prepare,
Or suddain Blasts of red malignant Air.
Mark how his Eyes resist invading Night,
And labour to detain retreating Light;

445

Swimming in Clouds, they seek the doubtful Day,
And sinking deep in Shades, Hold eager lay
On every glimm'ring Streak and every broken Ray.
His Mouth still seems to mutter in the Dust,
Some second Falshood, to excuse the first:
His quiv'ring Lips of Life th' Appearance wear;
But to believe the Hypocrite forbear,
For by the Painter's Art they dead deceive,
And false, as living, wrong Impressions leave.

Observe attentive round th' Apostles spread
The thick Assembly seiz'd with shiv'ring Dread,
Who look surpriz'd, and at the wond'rous Sight,
Seem to start back, and own their great Affright.

446

THE Story of Elymas the Sorcerer.

Next to th' Apostle of the Gentiles turn,
How do his Eyes with Indignation burn?
In his warm Cheeks, what angry Colours glow,
What threat'ning Clouds sit gather'd on his Brow?
Whilst the Magician with a curst Design,
Obstructs the heav'nly Light and Truth Divine,
Which Paul on noble Sergius did display,
To chase Infernal Pagan Shades away,
And o'er his Mind diffuse celestial Day.

See to chastise audacious Elymas,
Austerely looking on the Sorcerer's Face,
He do's his Wonder-working Pow'r assume,
And strikes th' Impostor Blind, to strike him Dumb.
Thick Darkness on the Necromancer fell,
Like that upon his Soul, or that in Hell.

447

Scales made of Mists condens'd and solid Shade,
Repel the Beams, which his lost Sight invade;
This sable Curtain blunts the keenest Ray,
And still unpierc'd reverberates the Day.
The Sorcerer's Mien so justly is design'd,
His Face conceal'd, his Limbs will shew him blind:
With groping Hands to feel his Way he tries,
For Hands and Feet are now his only Eyes.

There Sergius seiz'd with decent Wonder sits,
Such as a great and noble Mind befits.
From the Magician's Blindness he receives
His Intellectual Sight, and then believes.
Thus from the Shade that on the Sorc'rer lies,
On the wise Roman, Rays celestial rise.
So in Creation, when the Infant Light,
To try its golden Wings first took its Flight,
The gentle Beams, that did around display
The tender Seeds and Rudiments of Day,

448

Sprang smiling from the dark Chaotick Gloom,
And broke from ancient Night's reluctant Womb.

What Consternation, what Excess of Fear,
In all the Figures standing round appear?
Their Postures represent their just Surprize,
They wonder with their Hands, their Lips and Eyes.
Strong Marks of Admiration all betray,
All are amaz'd, but in a diff'rent Way.

449

The Cripples at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple.

See, Stranger, there the famous Cripples wait
At the high Pillars of the Temple Gate,
Hoping the Rich, who in that Holy Place
Solicit Mercy and Celestial Grace,
Who Alms Divine and Heav'nly Gifts receive,
Will, in Exchange, some Temp'ral Succours give.
Yet to the craving naked Creatures, few
Express the Pity to their Sorrow due.
No Wight, so very beggarly and poor,
Did ever importune a Rich Man's Door.
Ne'er in a living Object did we see
Such moving Want, such perfect Misery.
Pale Cheeks, sunk Eyes, and ghastly Meagerness,
Famine, in all its woful State, express.

450

Their Bones, distorted from their Place, begin
To start, and break the loathsome wither'd Skin.
How slack their Sinews are? their Limbs how lame?
How shatter'd all the breathing Engine's Frame?
Diseas'd, decrepit, and with Hunger worn,
The Wretches make a Figure so forlorn,
That all Spectators must Compassion show
To such Distress and undissembled Woe.

Soon as the great Apostles they espy'd,
Aloud for Alms the crawling Cripples cry'd;
With fruitless Accents they for Silver pray
To these blest Men, who were as Poor as They.
Yet they solicit with such earnest Cries,
And on th' Apostles fix such eager Eyes,
As if they firmly thought, but knew not why,
That these kind Strangers would their Wants supply;
Which soon they did, not by bestowing Wealth,
But a far dearer Blessing, perfect Health;
The Apostle only speaks the high Command,
And the rejoycing Cripples rise and stand.

451

The Story of St. Peter's Draught of Fish.

See Peter at His Feet, whose mighty Word
Had the wide Net with Fish portentous stor'd.
This wond'rous Piece, with Admiration view,
Did ever Face such just Confusion shew?
Did Passions e'er in such Perfection reign,
Where each for Conquest strives, but strives in vain?
Devout Disturbance, Gratitude and Love,
A pious Medley, equal Wonder move.
From trembling Joints his Spirits upwards rise,
And to express th' Apostle's vast Surprize,
See his whole eager Soul collected in his Eyes.
In Limbs and Face so much he seems alive,
That Lookers-on might well this Judgment give,
That he has Voice, and ready is to speak,
But that Amazement do's his Utt'rance break.

452

Remark the holy Rapture in his Mien,
'Tis in each Vein, and every Muscle seen.
Were ever Hands, Compassion to implore,
So tenderly devout stretcht out before?
If any Force can Heav'n's rais'd Stroke arrest,
And from his Arm th' Almighty's Thunder wrest,
Or can invade the distant Seats of Bliss
With prosp'rous Violence, 'tis such as This.
All will pronounce, who here attentive dwell,
The Painter's Art, another Miracle.

The Story of St. Paul and Barnabas at Lystra.

How soon the various Many change their Mind,
As Waves unstable, fickle as the Wind?
Those they condemn'd as impious just before,
As Gods in Humane Shape they now adore.

453

So was the Saviour us'd, one Day the Sky
Their loud Hosannahs fill, the next they cry
Seize Him, the vile Blasphemer crucify!
They call'd th' Apostles Mercury and Jove,
Arriv'd on Earth from their blest Seats above;
To these suppos'd Celestial Strangers they
Honours Divine and Adoration pay.

Mark with Attention how the zealous Throng,
Inspir'd with wild Devotion, shove along
Their Ox, with flow'ry Superstition crown'd,
You'll think they shout, and that you hear the Sound.
With impious Clamours to the Altar they
The Beast, less stupid than themselves, convey.
The brawny Priest do's by the Victim stand,
His fatal Ax uplifted in his Hand.
Observe the sleek and pamper'd Glutton, see
His Skin, that shines with holy Luxury.
See how th' Apostles, fir'd with Zeal divine,
Run in to stop th' Idolatrous Design.

454

What strong Confusion, what a mighty Dread
Of undue Worship, in their Looks are read?
What great Disorder, how disturb'd an Air,
What just Abhorrence do their Faces wear?
Their Anger, how unfeign'd? their Trouble, how sincere?
None Honour e'er pursu'd with greater Zeal,
Than these blest Men, in shunning it, reveal.
So high their swelling Tides of Passion rise,
Such holy Fury flashes in their Eyes,
They so detest the barb'rous Crowd's Intent,
And show such Care their Purpose to prevent,
That Lookers-on have oft a doubtful Strife,
If 'tis the Picture, or the the real Life.

One would expect their Lips should Silence break;
But, if they can't, their Looks and Gestures speak,
By which expressive Language they reveal
What inwardly they think, as well as feel.
If they had Voice, you would such Accents hear,
Mistaken Men, your mad Design forbear;

455

To us your Adoration is not due,
We are but Men, as mortal Men, as you.
We can of no Divine Extraction boast,
We are but breathing Clay, and mould'ring Dust;
Weak Flesh and Blood like you, like your's our Frame
Is brittle, and our Passions are the same.
The Power, by which this Miracle is done,
We grant Divine, but know, 'tis not our own.
We give, blest Jesus, in Thy Pow'rful Name,
Ease to the Sick, and Vigour to the Lame.
The Worship, you intend us, we abhor,
You must the God, that made the World, adore.
If we the Lame restore, and cure the Blind,
'Tis to enlighten, and confirm the Mind.
Our mighty Works, that so much Wonder move,
Show that we bring our Doctrine from above,
And these Credentials our Commission prove.

456

St. Paul Preaching.

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;

457

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,

458

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.

459

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.

460

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?

Our SAVIOUR and His Twelve Apostles.

There in the blest indulgent Jesus see
How Heav'nly Sweetness strives with Majesty;
Tho' each in full Perfection is design'd,
Yet more conspicuous Passions there we find,
Mercy in all her Charms, and Love to Human Kind.

See, holy Peter on his bended Knee
From his Great Master's Hand receives the Key,

461

That opens wide high Heav'n's immortal Gate
To all pure Souls, that for Admission wait,
But locks it fast against the impious Train
Doom'd to the Seats of Death and endless Pain.
Thus the Redeemer did the Saint invest
With Pow'r Divine, but not above the rest.
For all the sacred Tribe, as well as he,
Have Pow'r to bind, and set a Sinner free.
Much less this Grant did Sov'raign Right convey,
Obliging all th' Apostles to obey
Their Monarch Peter's Universal Sway:
But do not ask what Raphael's Notions were,
His Judgment might, his Pencil cannot err.

462

The PASSAGE.

I

Now thro' a Desart World I stray
Expos'd to rav'ning Beasts a Prey,
While I to Heav'nly Canaan beat my Way.

II

Cast on this wild Terrestrial Isle,
'Mid'st base-born Natives of the Soil,
I strive thro' various Deaths with endless Toil.

III

Passing the Burning Waste along
I'm by the fiery Serpent stung,
Hurt by his Teeth, or by his pois'nous Tongue.

IV

Opprest with rig'rous Heat I stand,
Viewing with eager Eyes the Land,
And for the Fountain, search in vain the Sand.

463

V

How much the Springs above I want,
I long, I languish, gasp and pant
For the blest Streams, which Heav'n alone can grant.

VI

Let me my ardent Wish obtain,
Let me the happy Regions gain,
Where Living Waters blissful Life sustain.

VII

Where Rivers of Delights are spread,
And Floods of endless Joys are fed,
By unpolluted Pleasure's Fountain Head.

The Impertinence of Earthly Things.

I

What are Possessions, Fame and Pow'r?
What all the Splendor of the Great?
What Gold, which dazled Eyes adore,
And seek with endless Care and Sweat?

464

II

Express their Charms, declare their Use,
That I their Merit may descry;
Tell me what Good they can produce,
Or what important Want supply.

III

If wounded with the Sense of Sin
To them for Pardon I should pray,
Will they restore my Peace within,
And wash my guilty Stains away?

IV

Can they Celestial Life inspire,
Nature with Pow'r Divine renew,
With pure and sacred Passions fire
My Breast, and loose Desire subdue?

V

When Age and Sickness Life invade,
Should I opprest to them complain,
May I depend upon their Aid
To sooth my Grief, and ease my Pain?

465

VI

When with the Pangs of Death I strive,
And yield all Comforts here for lost,
Will they support me, will they give
Kind Succour, when I need it most?

VII

When at th' Almighty's awful Bar
To hear my Doom I trembling stand,
Can they incline the Judge to spare,
Or wrest his Vengeance from his Hand?

VIII

Can they protect me from Despair,
From the sad Seats of Death and Hell,
Crown me with Bliss, and place me where
The Just in Joys immortal dwell?

IX

Sinner, thy Idols I despise,
If these Demands they cannot grant,
Why these Delusions should I prize,
That can't relieve my only Want?

466

To Devout Christians.

I

Ye pious Minds of high Celestial Race,
Destin'd to Glory and immortal Bliss;
Ye Sons of God, by free adopting Grace,
And Heirs of Life Eternal after This;

II

In your peculiar happy Fate rejoyce,
Nor let the World's Enjoyments be your Care,
Leave them to those, who chuse, ah foolish Choice!
Their Portion, all their worthless Portion, here.

III

Should Princes of the Great Redeemer's Blood,
Debase by mean Designs their noble Birth,
And condescend to struggle in the Croud
For shining Sand, and Bags of yellow Earrh?

467

IV

You to divine immense Possessions born,
Who aim at Empire, and expect a Throne,
These transient Trifles should reject with Scorn,
And act like Heroes worthy of a Crown.

V

You should a just and generous Sense retain
Of your high Calling, and expected Joys,
And with becoming Pride, and brave Disdain,
Should mock the World, and spurn its proffer'd Toys.

VI

Will you, who own a Taste of Things Divine,
And to the Banquets of the Blest aspire,
Descend to sordid Pleasures, and with Swine
Feed on Pollution, and demand the Mire?

468

SOLOMON's Irony: A Paraphrase on Eccles. XI. 9. Rejoyce, O Young Man, in thy Youth, &c.
[_]

Printed in 1714.

What all-aspiring Mortals have in View,
And by a thousand diff'rent Ways pursue,
With ardent Zeal, true Happiness discern,
And what it is to live, Philander, learn.
Let Chiefs, by daring Toils, enjoy their Aim,
Their Laurel Gugaws, and their Bubble Fame;
Litigious Coifs infest the clam'rous Bar,
Prolong Disputes, and thrive by manag'd War;
Let hardy Merchants, bent on useless Gain,
Patient of Terrors, plough the Liquid Main;
Let idle Students on their Volumes pore
To cloud with Learning, what was clear before;

469

The Statesman fill with Plots his aking Head,
And Misers, 'mid'st Abundance, want their Bread.

While these their Hours in various Error waste,
Lavish of Time, that spends it self too fast,
Do thou, inspir'd with wiser Thoughts, excite
Thy Native Fires, and every Sense invite
To slake its Thirst with exquisite Delight.
Since Future is not, and what Was is gone,
And we the Present only call our own,
Be thy whole Life, in various Mirth, employ'd,
And let no Minute perish unenjoy'd.
Now thy young Cheeks fresh rosy Beauty dyes,
And darting Spirits sparkle in thy Eyes,
While from th' impulsive Heart the sprightly Floud
Exploded leaps and bounds along the Road;
Piercing thy Sight, and exquisite thy Taste,
Thy Joynts all pliant, and thy Sinews brac't;
While these fair Hours extend their am'rous Arms,
Dance laughing by, and proffer all their Charms,

470

Eager advance, and catch the willing Joy,
With Feasts renew'd thy craving Senses cloy.

With ravish'd Eyes view Pleasure's smiling Tide,
See her rich Banks display their lovely Pride;
See, the pure Volumes of her flowing Train,
With flow'ry Verdure crown the beauteous Plain;
Amid'st the Flood thy self with Transport throw,
Dissolve in Pleasure, and in Rapture flow.

Be thy soft Limbs with softer Silk carest,
Shine in the splendid Labour of the East,
By Persia now, and now by India drest.
Let Goblets, flowing with the sparkling Juice,
Which Gallia's Plains and Tuscan Hills produce,
Distend thy Veins, and on the generous Tide
Let youthful Joy in circling Triumph ride.
To crown thy Table with delicious Food,
Rifle the Mountain, ransack every Wood,
And cull each finny Pleasure of the Flood.

471

Let thy unrivall'd endless Banquets grac'd
With artful Dishes in long Order plac'd,
Surprize with new Delight the most luxurious Taste.

Ravish'd survey thy Garden's charming Scenes,
With Statues proud, and everlasting Greens;
The fair, yet unforbidden Fruit behold,
Pleasant their Relish, and their Colour Gold;
Traverse the beauteous Walks, and free from Care,
Regale thy vital Flame with fragrant Air:
Now stretcht on Roses in thy Myrtle Bow'rs,
Thy Head adorn'd with Wreaths of rival Flow'rs,
In constant Transports pass the happy Hours.

To Heights superior yet Enjoyment raise,
Taste all the various Kinds of Heav'nly Lays,
Which tuneful Heads with studious Care compound,
Of blended Airs and soft voluptuous Sound.
For thy Delight hear Master-Voices sing,
Now breathing Tubes, and now the speaking String,

472

While in the Ear attentive Spirits watch,
Sieze the sweet Accent, and the Rapture catch.

Now with the Men of Wit and Mirth converse,
And hear the Bards their am'rous Songs rehearse.
Let Beauty now thy eager Passion move,
Embrace its Charms, and feast thy Soul with Love:
In Pleasures tir'd, with costly Scarlet spread,
On downy Pillars rest thy weary Head.

How swift the fleeting Minutes wing their Way?
Thou'lt die to Morrow, therefore live to Day.
When Man dissolves, and mingling floats in Air,
His ruin'd Form what Artist can repair?
His scatter'd Atomes, and his loose Remains,
No Pleasure taste, and feel no torturing Pains.
He now in Vapours climbs, now falls in Snows,
He's fix'd in Marble, or in Streams he flows,
And thro' the various Scenes of changing Matter goes.

473

But know, vain Youth, an ever-during State
To this succeeds, and brings a diff'rent Fate.
Death but removes the Flame of Life to burn
More clear and bright, and in a lasting Urn.
When breathless grown, thou wilt not cease to Be,
To other Seats transfer'd thou'lt live, and see
How Wrath Divine the impious Race destroys,
While guiltless Minds imbibe immortal Joys.

474

New Year's Day.

I

In Annual Spires the circling Sun
Has travell'd round th' Etherial Waste,
So one Year's Task of Life is done,
And one more Stage of Time is past,
Whose ebbing Streams apace subside,
And in Duration's Deep make haste to loose their Tyde.

II

The Train of my determin'd Years,
With a swift Pinion wing their Way,
Daily my Vital Vigour wears,
Daily the active Springs decay;
The Sun still kindly goes and comes,
Kindly unthrifty Time my Stock of Life consumes.

III

Patience a little longer hold,
A while this mortal Burden bear,

475

When a few Moments more are told,
All this vain Scene will disappear.
Immortal Life will follow this,
And Guilt and Grief be chang'd for endless Joy and Bliss.

IV

Repeat, kind Sun, repeat thy Race;
Swiftly, ye Hours, O swiftly fly,
Ye ling'ring Minutes mend your Pace,
And do not long my Joys deny:
Quicken indulgent Time thy Flight,
And bear me on thy Wings to the blest Coasts of Light.

476

AN ODE TO THE DIVINE BEING.

I

Hail all Perfection, Source of Bliss!
Hail Self-existent Cause of Things,
Essential Goodness, bright Abyss,
Whence Beatifick Glory springs!

II

Blest Object of my Love intense
I Thee my Joy, my Treasure call,
My Portion, my Reward immense,
Soul of my Soul, my Life, my All.

III

Freely the Pomps and Triumphs here,
Illusive Phantomes, I resign,
Princes unenvy'd you may share
The canton'd World, while Heav'n is mine.

477

IV

You, who Delights and Pleasures court,
For me may all your Senses cloy,
You may unrivall'd Dance and Sport,
While my blest Author I enjoy.

V

Have all the spacious Heav'ns around,
With him an Object to compare,
On Earth is any Pleasure found,
Which to his Favour I prefer?

VI

When Cares invade on every Side,
And restless Passions urge my Soul;
When gloomy Grief its pond'rous Tide,
Do's thro' my aking Bosom roll;

VII

Fountain of Glory, Lord of Light,
From thy bright Face, one darted Ray,
Will calm the Storm, dispel the Night,
And re-establish banish'd Day.

FINIS.

University of Virginia Library

2. PART the Second.

CONTAINING POEMS Moral and Divine.

YOUTH in Danger. TO MENALCAS.

On FAME. [_] Printed in 1714.

An ODE to the Supreme Being.

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

THE Safety of a Low State. [_] Printed in 1696. Translated out of Seneca's Agamemnon Chor. Argivarum.

Psalm 42. v. 5. Why art Thou cast down, O my Soul, &c.

Psalm 2. v. 12. Kiss the Son, lest He be angry, &c.

AN ODE TO JEHOVAH, Creator.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

CONTEMPT OF THE WORLD.

I.

II.

III.

Contemplative Solitude. [_] Printed in 1696.

A Thought of Death.

The Ejaculation.

I

II

III

An Expostulation with Damon, complaining of his Narrow Fortune. [_] Printed 1696.

AN ODE TO JEHOVAH, Immutable, Merciful and Just.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

Matth. V. 29, 30. If thy Right Eye offend thee, pluck it out, &c.

I

II

III

IV

On Riches.

I

II

III

IV

V

A Paraphrase on the XCth Psalm, stiled, The Prayer of Moses the Man of God.

Right ZEAL. [_] Printed in 1696.

Psal. XCIV. 19. In the Multitude of my Thoughts within me, &c.

I

II

III

IV

The WISH.

I

II

A HYMN TO THE LIGHT of the WORLD. [_] Printed in the Year 1703.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

On FAME.
[_]

Printed in 1714.

THE Safety of a Low State.
[_]

Printed in 1696. Translated out of Seneca's Agamemnon Chor. Argivarum.

Contemplative Solitude.
[_]

Printed in 1696.

An Expostulation with Damon, complaining of his Narrow Fortune.
[_]

Printed 1696.

Right ZEAL.
[_]

Printed in 1696.

A HYMN TO THE LIGHT of the WORLD.
[_]

Printed in the Year 1703.

Happiness Discover'd.
[_]

Printed in the Year 1696.

THE CARTONS OF RAPHAEL URBIN, IN THE Gallery at Hampton-Court.
[_]

Printed in 1703.