Thoughts Upon The Four Last Things Death; Judgment; Heaven; and Hell. A Poem In Four Parts. The Second Edition. To which are added, The I, CIV, and CXXXVII Psalms Paraphras'd [by Joseph Trapp] |
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| I. |
| II. |
Part II. JUDGMENT.
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| III. |
| IV. |
 | Thoughts Upon The Four Last Things |  |
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II. Part II. JUDGMENT.
The ARGUMENT.
The Terror of the last great Day, and the awful Appearance of the Judge, mention'd, and pass'd over for the present. The time of it Unknown. But the Thing itself clearly reveal'd in Scripture. Proofs of a future Judgment even from natural Reason. From the essential Difference betwixt moral Good, and Evil. From natural Conscience. From Providence in This World. From the Nature of God considered as a Lawgiver. From the promiscuous Dispensations of Things in This Life. The dreadful Signs, and Prognosticks previous to the Day of Judgment. Our Saviour's blended Predictions concerning the Destruction of Jerusalem, and the Day of Judgment; They having plainly a View to Both. The Coming of the Judge. General Reflections upon the Awfulness and Dread of it. The Resurrection. The more distinct Appearance of the Judge. His Glory, and Majesty. The general Conflagration. The Summons to Judgment. The Judgment itself. The Account of the Good Steward. The Judge's Speech before Sentence. The Sentence itself. More particularly upon Infidel Apostates from Christianity. The Conclusion, with Practical Reflections.
O Thou Eternal! (Hallow'd, wond'rous Name!)
Whose fruitful Word gave Birth to Nature's Frame;
Our only Hope, yet our Consuming Fire;
Mighty to Save, yet Terrible in Ire:
Who can abide That great, That fearful Day,
When Thou, as Judge, Thy Glory shalt display?
When all Things in Confusion shall be hurl'd,
And Wreaths of Smoke involve the flaming World?
When from Thy red Right-hand new Lightnings fly;
And unfix'd Orbs rush clatt'ring thro' the Sky?
The Universal Mass, from Pole to Pole,
Burnt up, and shrivel'd, like a Parchment Scrole?
In vain for Help shall Then the Guilty call;
“Hide us, Ye Hills, Ye Mountains, on us fall:”
When with fierce fervent Heat, before ne'er felt,
Like Wax the Everlasting Hills shall melt
At Thy dread Presence; and the Mountains want,
Themselves, That Refuge they are ask'd to grant.
Whose fruitful Word gave Birth to Nature's Frame;
Our only Hope, yet our Consuming Fire;
Mighty to Save, yet Terrible in Ire:
Who can abide That great, That fearful Day,
When Thou, as Judge, Thy Glory shalt display?
When all Things in Confusion shall be hurl'd,
And Wreaths of Smoke involve the flaming World?
When from Thy red Right-hand new Lightnings fly;
And unfix'd Orbs rush clatt'ring thro' the Sky?
The Universal Mass, from Pole to Pole,
Burnt up, and shrivel'd, like a Parchment Scrole?
In vain for Help shall Then the Guilty call;
“Hide us, Ye Hills, Ye Mountains, on us fall:”
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Like Wax the Everlasting Hills shall melt
At Thy dread Presence; and the Mountains want,
Themselves, That Refuge they are ask'd to grant.
Behold, He comes with Clouds; and ev'ry Eye
Shall see Him in resplendent Majesty:
Ev'n Those who pierc'd his Hands, his Feet, and Side,
Shall see Him in triumphant Brightness ride,
On Wings of Cherubs, and the bounding Wind;
Black Clouds his Chariot, Storms in Harness join'd;
The Just prepar'd to meet him in the Air,
And Conscious Sinners shiv'ring with Despair.
Shall see Him in resplendent Majesty:
Ev'n Those who pierc'd his Hands, his Feet, and Side,
Shall see Him in triumphant Brightness ride,
On Wings of Cherubs, and the bounding Wind;
Black Clouds his Chariot, Storms in Harness join'd;
The Just prepar'd to meet him in the Air,
And Conscious Sinners shiv'ring with Despair.
Of that great Day indeed, That Day, and Hour
Knows no Man: Not ev'n he th'Almighty Pow'r,
The awful Judge Himself, as Son of Man;
(As God, He all things knows, and all things can:)
When it will come, in Darkness is conceal'd;
But come it will; That clearly is reveal'd.
Or were it not; that God, most just, and wise,
Will judge the World, crown Vertue, punish Vice,
Reward his Faithful, and confound the Proud,
Reason asserts, and Nature cries aloud.
Th'essential Difference 'twixt Moral Good,
And Evil, must by all be understood:
Who e'er was found so Savage, and so Brute,
As Their assur'd Existence to dispute?
What Man, unless of Reason quite bereft,
Can doubt that Murder, Fraud, Adult'ry, Theft,
To be unmann'd by Drunkenness, and Lust,
To be Profane, Oppressive, and Unjust,
Are absolutely Evil? That to these
The opposite, endearing Qualities,
Sweet Meekness, Charity, to have a Taste
For Heav'n on Earth, to be Just, Pious, Chaste,
Are absolutely Good? This Sense of Things
From Nature, and Eternal Reason springs:
'Tis mix'd, congenial, with the Minds of All;
'Tis Universal; therefore Natural;
Therefore from God; and therefore must be True.
And what can from This Good, and Ill ensue,
But Punishment to This, to That Reward?
Both therefore are by God, the Judge, prepar'd.
Reward to Vertue, Punishment assign'd
To Vice, can ev'n in Thought be ne'er disjoin'd.
No less does Conscience This great Truth attest;
Conscience, Heav'n's Delegate in ev'ry Breast:
By Heav'n, not Priests, and Statesmen, planted There;
Since Universal is This Hope, and Fear;
Common to All, the Learned, and the Rude;
By the most Stupid to be understood;
By no Philosophy to be subdued.
What then does Conscience, but anticipate
A future Judgment, and a future State?
Future; For Conscience frights us, or applauds,
Consoles us, or with Stings, vindictive, goads;
For Actions which Ourselves can only know,
When Nought is fear'd, or hop'd for, Here below.
Knows no Man: Not ev'n he th'Almighty Pow'r,
The awful Judge Himself, as Son of Man;
(As God, He all things knows, and all things can:)
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But come it will; That clearly is reveal'd.
Or were it not; that God, most just, and wise,
Will judge the World, crown Vertue, punish Vice,
Reward his Faithful, and confound the Proud,
Reason asserts, and Nature cries aloud.
Th'essential Difference 'twixt Moral Good,
And Evil, must by all be understood:
Who e'er was found so Savage, and so Brute,
As Their assur'd Existence to dispute?
What Man, unless of Reason quite bereft,
Can doubt that Murder, Fraud, Adult'ry, Theft,
To be unmann'd by Drunkenness, and Lust,
To be Profane, Oppressive, and Unjust,
Are absolutely Evil? That to these
The opposite, endearing Qualities,
Sweet Meekness, Charity, to have a Taste
For Heav'n on Earth, to be Just, Pious, Chaste,
Are absolutely Good? This Sense of Things
From Nature, and Eternal Reason springs:
'Tis mix'd, congenial, with the Minds of All;
'Tis Universal; therefore Natural;
Therefore from God; and therefore must be True.
And what can from This Good, and Ill ensue,
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Both therefore are by God, the Judge, prepar'd.
Reward to Vertue, Punishment assign'd
To Vice, can ev'n in Thought be ne'er disjoin'd.
No less does Conscience This great Truth attest;
Conscience, Heav'n's Delegate in ev'ry Breast:
By Heav'n, not Priests, and Statesmen, planted There;
Since Universal is This Hope, and Fear;
Common to All, the Learned, and the Rude;
By the most Stupid to be understood;
By no Philosophy to be subdued.
What then does Conscience, but anticipate
A future Judgment, and a future State?
Future; For Conscience frights us, or applauds,
Consoles us, or with Stings, vindictive, goads;
For Actions which Ourselves can only know,
When Nought is fear'd, or hop'd for, Here below.
That God of Man takes Providential Care,
From Prophesies and Miracles is clear.
That such have been, 'tis Frenzy to deny;
And makes all History one standing Lye.
Shall Heav'n then for Mankind have such Regard;
And yet their Deeds nor Punish, nor Reward?
From Prophesies and Miracles is clear.
That such have been, 'tis Frenzy to deny;
And makes all History one standing Lye.
Shall Heav'n then for Mankind have such Regard;
And yet their Deeds nor Punish, nor Reward?
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As Lawgiver He must: All Laws are vain,
Unless enforc'd with Pleasure, and with Pain.
But 'tis experienc'd, if This World be All,
His Laws have no such Guard: To stand, or fall,
To be most Prosperous, or most Distress'd,
Is common to the Worst, and to the Best.
From hence 'tis prov'd we must to Judgment rise;
Or God, in Legislature, is not Wise.
No, Thou reply'st: 'Tis fit Mankind should dread
Vengeance impending o'er each guilty Head;
That Heav'n should threaten—Not in fact condemn—
But wilt thou Thus presumptuously blaspheme,
That God can with a Falshood guard his Law;
And Truth itself speak Lyes, to keep the World in awe?
Unless enforc'd with Pleasure, and with Pain.
But 'tis experienc'd, if This World be All,
His Laws have no such Guard: To stand, or fall,
To be most Prosperous, or most Distress'd,
Is common to the Worst, and to the Best.
From hence 'tis prov'd we must to Judgment rise;
Or God, in Legislature, is not Wise.
No, Thou reply'st: 'Tis fit Mankind should dread
Vengeance impending o'er each guilty Head;
That Heav'n should threaten—Not in fact condemn—
But wilt thou Thus presumptuously blaspheme,
That God can with a Falshood guard his Law;
And Truth itself speak Lyes, to keep the World in awe?
How oft is Vertue in This Life decry'd;
While Vice and Villany Triumphant ride?
A Time will therefore come, when Vertue crown'd
Shall triumph, Justice Villany confound;
All things be set in their due, proper Light;
And the great Judge of all the World do Right.
While Vice and Villany Triumphant ride?
A Time will therefore come, when Vertue crown'd
Shall triumph, Justice Villany confound;
All things be set in their due, proper Light;
And the great Judge of all the World do Right.
It must be so then, God will judge Mankind;
The Dead shall rise, the scatter'd Parts rejoin'd
In human Bodys; This fair Frame must burn,
And Earth's vast Globe to Smoke and Ashes turn.
But first, with solemn Tragick Pomp, and State,
To introduce This last great Scene of Fate;
Dire, horrible Prognosticks shall appear.
For more, perhaps, than one preceding Year,
(To God alone 'tis known how long Before,
These Signs shall come; Enquire not, but Adore:)
Earthquakes in various Climates shall abound,
And Subterraneous Thunder rend the Ground.
The Earth, its Dissolution to foreshow,
Shall stagger, like a Drunkard, to and fro:
Cracking, and crashing, with a dreadful Shock,
And bellowing Noise, the Mountains reel, and rock;
Great Atlas, whose high Top thick Darkness shrouds,
And Teneriff, a League above the Clouds,
Th'unbounded Alps, That endless Chain of Hills,
Alps pil'd on Alps, spoil'd of their living Rills
Dry'd up, and strip'd of their eternal Snow,
Roll rattling Fragments to their Feet below,
Immeasurable Loads of massy Stone;
Nod their stiff Heads, and in Convulsions groan.
Flames wreath'd with Smoke from burst Volcanos rise,
And hurl their melted Bowels to the Skies:
Ev'n in the Ocean, from their lowest Caves,
They rage, and boil with Fire its bubbling Waves.
Loud roar the Seas; Thro' Nature Terrors spread;
And Mortals Hearts o'er all the World with Dread
Sink shudd'ring, and appal'd. With hideous Glare,
Till now unseen, strange Lightnings whiz in Air;
Lightnings, which lanc'd thro' cloudless Skys shall blaze,
And without Thunder terribly amaze.
Thick Meteors, blue, and red, with dismal Light
Shall trail along, and wound the Gloom of Night;
The Pow'rs Celestial shake, Stars shooting fall
Sudden from Heav'n, and singe This frighted Ball.
Comets, which thro' th'Infinity of Space
Have, Ages, roam'd, now meeting in one Place
(So God ordains) unite their baleful Streams,
And at each other shoot their fiery Gleams.
The Moon withdraws her pale nocturnal Ray;
The Sun, 'twixt Earth and Heav'n, in deep Dismay,
Hangs like a Lump of Blood, and saddens Day.
The Dead shall rise, the scatter'd Parts rejoin'd
In human Bodys; This fair Frame must burn,
And Earth's vast Globe to Smoke and Ashes turn.
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To introduce This last great Scene of Fate;
Dire, horrible Prognosticks shall appear.
For more, perhaps, than one preceding Year,
(To God alone 'tis known how long Before,
These Signs shall come; Enquire not, but Adore:)
Earthquakes in various Climates shall abound,
And Subterraneous Thunder rend the Ground.
The Earth, its Dissolution to foreshow,
Shall stagger, like a Drunkard, to and fro:
Cracking, and crashing, with a dreadful Shock,
And bellowing Noise, the Mountains reel, and rock;
Great Atlas, whose high Top thick Darkness shrouds,
And Teneriff, a League above the Clouds,
Th'unbounded Alps, That endless Chain of Hills,
Alps pil'd on Alps, spoil'd of their living Rills
Dry'd up, and strip'd of their eternal Snow,
Roll rattling Fragments to their Feet below,
Immeasurable Loads of massy Stone;
Nod their stiff Heads, and in Convulsions groan.
Flames wreath'd with Smoke from burst Volcanos rise,
And hurl their melted Bowels to the Skies:
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They rage, and boil with Fire its bubbling Waves.
Loud roar the Seas; Thro' Nature Terrors spread;
And Mortals Hearts o'er all the World with Dread
Sink shudd'ring, and appal'd. With hideous Glare,
Till now unseen, strange Lightnings whiz in Air;
Lightnings, which lanc'd thro' cloudless Skys shall blaze,
And without Thunder terribly amaze.
Thick Meteors, blue, and red, with dismal Light
Shall trail along, and wound the Gloom of Night;
The Pow'rs Celestial shake, Stars shooting fall
Sudden from Heav'n, and singe This frighted Ball.
Comets, which thro' th'Infinity of Space
Have, Ages, roam'd, now meeting in one Place
(So God ordains) unite their baleful Streams,
And at each other shoot their fiery Gleams.
The Moon withdraws her pale nocturnal Ray;
The Sun, 'twixt Earth and Heav'n, in deep Dismay,
Hangs like a Lump of Blood, and saddens Day.
In Words like These, Himself, the Judge to come,
Foretold Jerusalem's approaching Doom.
But so is the divine Prediction cast;
That in Jerusalem's, already past,
We read the World's, all Nature's future End:
Thus double Senses Truths sublimest blend.
So Notes in Musick make with grateful Tone
Harmonious Mixture of Two Sounds in One.
Adorable Obscurity! yet clear
To Those, who search with Judgment, and with Fear,
The Fear of God—In falling Stars He sings
The falling Pow'rs of Empires, States, and Kings:
“How art Thou fall'n from Heav'n, O Lucifer,
“Son of the Morn! Thou once bright Orient Star!
So sings the Noble Prophet, to foreshow
The Babylonian Tyrant's Pride laid low.
“The Son of Man, in That tremendous Hour,
“Shall Come in Clouds, with Glory, and with Pow'r.
That Coming mark'd his Vengeance on his Foes,
The Jews; Those Clouds, his Terrors and their Woes.
Yet was not That his only Point in View;
The World no less is threaten'd, than the Jew,
In the same Phrase with diff'rent Meanings fraught;
O Energy Divine! transcending mortal Thought!
Those awful Words at length must be resolv'd
Into the World's last Fate in them involv'd.
Huge Balls of Fire, like Stars, shall drop from Heav'n:
The Judge, attended by his glorious Sev'n,
And other numberless Angelick Forms,
Shall come with Clouds, in Whirlwinds, and in Storms.
Foretold Jerusalem's approaching Doom.
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That in Jerusalem's, already past,
We read the World's, all Nature's future End:
Thus double Senses Truths sublimest blend.
So Notes in Musick make with grateful Tone
Harmonious Mixture of Two Sounds in One.
Adorable Obscurity! yet clear
To Those, who search with Judgment, and with Fear,
The Fear of God—In falling Stars He sings
The falling Pow'rs of Empires, States, and Kings:
“How art Thou fall'n from Heav'n, O Lucifer,
“Son of the Morn! Thou once bright Orient Star!
So sings the Noble Prophet, to foreshow
The Babylonian Tyrant's Pride laid low.
“The Son of Man, in That tremendous Hour,
“Shall Come in Clouds, with Glory, and with Pow'r.
That Coming mark'd his Vengeance on his Foes,
The Jews; Those Clouds, his Terrors and their Woes.
Yet was not That his only Point in View;
The World no less is threaten'd, than the Jew,
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O Energy Divine! transcending mortal Thought!
Those awful Words at length must be resolv'd
Into the World's last Fate in them involv'd.
Huge Balls of Fire, like Stars, shall drop from Heav'n:
The Judge, attended by his glorious Sev'n,
And other numberless Angelick Forms,
Shall come with Clouds, in Whirlwinds, and in Storms.
Lo! He appears: As Lightning from the East
Darted, shines instantaneous in the West;
Sudden He comes. A Mighty Seraph dread
Descends from Heav'n; a Rainbow round his Head;
Pillars of Fire his Feet, his Face a Sun;
Sev'n Thunders, e'er He speaks, his Voice forerun.
This Foot on Sea he fixes, That on Land;
And lifting high to Heav'n his ample Hand,
“By the Eternal God Three-One I swear,
“By whose omnific Fiat all Things are;
“'Tis past; 'Tis finish'd; Time shall be no more.
He ceases: The sev'n Thunders, closing, roar.
Darted, shines instantaneous in the West;
Sudden He comes. A Mighty Seraph dread
Descends from Heav'n; a Rainbow round his Head;
Pillars of Fire his Feet, his Face a Sun;
Sev'n Thunders, e'er He speaks, his Voice forerun.
This Foot on Sea he fixes, That on Land;
And lifting high to Heav'n his ample Hand,
“By the Eternal God Three-One I swear,
“By whose omnific Fiat all Things are;
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He ceases: The sev'n Thunders, closing, roar.
But Oh! That last, That glorious, dreadful Scene,
Amazement ev'n of Angels, more of Men,
What Tongue of Man, or Angel can express?
Striving to make it great, we make it less.
What we with Truth infallible believe,
No Words can utter, and no Thoughts conceive.
See God upon his Throne in Judgment sit?
The Universe in Flames beneath his Feet?
O Thou, our Judge Supreme (we trust in Thee)
Grant that with Joy That Glory we may see,
Which to describe our utmost Strength is faint;
Nor feel those Terrors which we cannot paint.
Amazement ev'n of Angels, more of Men,
What Tongue of Man, or Angel can express?
Striving to make it great, we make it less.
What we with Truth infallible believe,
No Words can utter, and no Thoughts conceive.
See God upon his Throne in Judgment sit?
The Universe in Flames beneath his Feet?
O Thou, our Judge Supreme (we trust in Thee)
Grant that with Joy That Glory we may see,
Which to describe our utmost Strength is faint;
Nor feel those Terrors which we cannot paint.
The op'ning Heav'ns, in silent Dead of Night,
First shew an undistinguish'd Mass of Light;
Which far outshines the Sun's meridian Rays:
All Human Kind at once upon it gaze,
Astonish'd, tho' forewarn'd. The Trumpet's Sound
Pierces the inmost Solid of the Ground,
And echoes to the Centre. Strait the Earth
Yields up its Dead to This new second Birth:
The Sea too yields up Those from ev'ry Wave,
Who in its Bosom found a liquid Grave.
From ev'ry Part of Earth, and Sea, and Air,
The marshal'd Atoms orderly repair,
To form the Bodies they at first compos'd;
The kindred Souls re-enter. Undisclos'd
Is the great Mystery How This is wrought;
But Pow'r Divine surpasses human Thought.
Ask not the Manner of This Rising State:
He surely can restore, who could create.
The Saints who sleep in Christ shall first revive;
They, and the Saints who Then are found alive,
With Children white in spotless Innocence,
By Guardian Angels shall be snatch'd from hence,
Escape the gen'ral Fire, and never die,
Caught up to meet their Saviour in the Sky:
There stand before Him, in bright Order rang'd;
All shall not Sleep, but All must needs be Chang'd;
Immortal, and Incorruptible made;
The Good for Happiness, for Pains the Bad.
These, ev'n while standing at the Judgment-Seat,
Shall feel the Conflagration's scorching Heat;
Shriek in the World's last flaming Fun'ral Pyre,
And pass from Earth's to Hell's tremendous Fire.
First shew an undistinguish'd Mass of Light;
Which far outshines the Sun's meridian Rays:
All Human Kind at once upon it gaze,
Astonish'd, tho' forewarn'd. The Trumpet's Sound
Pierces the inmost Solid of the Ground,
And echoes to the Centre. Strait the Earth
Yields up its Dead to This new second Birth:
The Sea too yields up Those from ev'ry Wave,
Who in its Bosom found a liquid Grave.
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The marshal'd Atoms orderly repair,
To form the Bodies they at first compos'd;
The kindred Souls re-enter. Undisclos'd
Is the great Mystery How This is wrought;
But Pow'r Divine surpasses human Thought.
Ask not the Manner of This Rising State:
He surely can restore, who could create.
The Saints who sleep in Christ shall first revive;
They, and the Saints who Then are found alive,
With Children white in spotless Innocence,
By Guardian Angels shall be snatch'd from hence,
Escape the gen'ral Fire, and never die,
Caught up to meet their Saviour in the Sky:
There stand before Him, in bright Order rang'd;
All shall not Sleep, but All must needs be Chang'd;
Immortal, and Incorruptible made;
The Good for Happiness, for Pains the Bad.
These, ev'n while standing at the Judgment-Seat,
Shall feel the Conflagration's scorching Heat;
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And pass from Earth's to Hell's tremendous Fire.
All now or Ris'n, or Chang'd, the Bad, the Good;
Again the Trumpet sounds; Well understood
By God's bright Host: Who from That Mass of Light
First indistinct, now open to the Sight.
In radiant Files stand rank'd their dazling Lines;
Full in their Front the great Messiah shines:
Yet so, that He in part his Glory shrouds
With thickest Darkness, and a Night of Clouds.
Insufferable Splendor, circling Beams
Dart from his Head, and shoot in pointed Streams.
Ineffably Divine, with mingled Grace
Mercy and Justice striving in his Face,
Awful he sits on his Tribunal high;
The Crosse expanded reddens Half the Sky:
That Banner from the silver Staff unfurl'd,
Floats, wav'd by Cherubs, o'er the trembling World.
All Eyes are fix'd on Him, on Him alone:
Tho' Thousand Thousand Angels round his Throne
Minister duteous; and on either Hand
Ten Thousand times Ten Thousand near Him stand.
Again the Trumpet sounds; Well understood
By God's bright Host: Who from That Mass of Light
First indistinct, now open to the Sight.
In radiant Files stand rank'd their dazling Lines;
Full in their Front the great Messiah shines:
Yet so, that He in part his Glory shrouds
With thickest Darkness, and a Night of Clouds.
Insufferable Splendor, circling Beams
Dart from his Head, and shoot in pointed Streams.
Ineffably Divine, with mingled Grace
Mercy and Justice striving in his Face,
Awful he sits on his Tribunal high;
The Crosse expanded reddens Half the Sky:
That Banner from the silver Staff unfurl'd,
Floats, wav'd by Cherubs, o'er the trembling World.
All Eyes are fix'd on Him, on Him alone:
Tho' Thousand Thousand Angels round his Throne
Minister duteous; and on either Hand
Ten Thousand times Ten Thousand near Him stand.
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And is This He, on Calvary who dy'd?
He, who for Milk in Bethlem's Stable cry'd?
Yes, Unbelieving Jew; 'Tis He, the Same;
Who dy'd indeed, but from high Heav'n first came.
He, who, when Foxes in their Dens could rest,
And ev'ry Bird of Air enjoy'd its Nest,
Had No-where to repose his weary Head;
And, feeding Thousands, was himself unfed.
But tremble Thou; who Nail'd him to the Tree,
Who pierc'd his Hands and Feet—Lo! This is He,
Who, after That curs'd Death, That humble Birth,
“Ariseth to shake terribly the Earth.
He, who for Milk in Bethlem's Stable cry'd?
Yes, Unbelieving Jew; 'Tis He, the Same;
Who dy'd indeed, but from high Heav'n first came.
He, who, when Foxes in their Dens could rest,
And ev'ry Bird of Air enjoy'd its Nest,
Had No-where to repose his weary Head;
And, feeding Thousands, was himself unfed.
But tremble Thou; who Nail'd him to the Tree,
Who pierc'd his Hands and Feet—Lo! This is He,
Who, after That curs'd Death, That humble Birth,
“Ariseth to shake terribly the Earth.
Now All in wond'ring Expectation gaze;
All Things dispos'd to light the last great Blaze.
The Just, with Hopes exalted to the Height,
Lift up their Heads, and their Redemption wait.
Pale stand the Sinners, trembling, and aghast,
Fearing the Future, conscious of the Past.
A solemn Pause, and Silence most profound
Ensues. At length th'ethereal Trumpet's Sound
Again the infinite Assembly wakes;
And Earth a third time to its Centre shakes.
A gen'ral Shout the Saints and Angels raise
(Millions of Millions!) to Messiah's Praise:
“Let God arise; and scatter'd be his Foes.
The yawning Caves their fuel'd Stores disclose;
Exploded Thunders thro' the Welkin roll,
And forky Light'nings flash from Pole to Pole:
Pillars of ruddy Smoke obscure the Sun;
And now the Wreck of Nature is begun.
The hideous Burst of Cannon heard so far,
And all the loud-mouth'd Engin'ry of War,
When fierce Bellona swells her brazen Voice,
Is deepest Silence to This dreadful Noise.
Disgorging Sheets of Flame, and molten Ore,
Ten Thousand Ætnas, and Vesuvios roar.
Huge Globes of Fire drop piece-meal from the Skies,
And meet the Fires which from Volcanos rise.
The blazing Deluge hisses in the Floods,
Pours o'er the Plains, and thunders thro' the Woods.
Woods of immense Extent, of tall, tough Oak,
Which nor of Time, nor Light'ning, fear'd the Stroke,
Solid, as if they never could decay,
Burnt like dry Shrubs, or Stubble, shrink away:
Less sudden disappears a Field of Corn,
When by the Wind the flying Flames are borne.
Th'exhausted Rivers vanish with the Heat;
Volga, and Indus, and Danubius, great,
Ganges, Euphrates, Nile, deep, rapid, strong,
Which rather Seas, than Rivers, foam along,
So many Ages fam'd, their Country's Boast,
Absorp't, devour'd, are in a Moment lost.
An Universal Earthquake rocks the Ball,
And Towns, and Cities in one Ruin fall.
Why name I These, the trifling Works of Art,
And human Labour? See the Earth dispart
Its riven Jaws: What Terror to behold
Metallick Torrents in red Billows roll'd!
Myriads of Sulph'rous Mines together sprung,
And to the Stars vast rocky Fragments slung!
Vast Rocks, which could the Weight of Citys bear,
Like spongy Pumice-Cinders, twirl'd in Air!
The Ocean, whether Continents, or Isles
It washes, like a burning Cauldron boils:
Ev'n the great Deep, of Waters almost dry'd,
With Streams of liquid Metals is supply'd:
In the mid Sea those livid Surges roar;
And falling Mountains rattle from the Shore.
All Things dispos'd to light the last great Blaze.
The Just, with Hopes exalted to the Height,
Lift up their Heads, and their Redemption wait.
Pale stand the Sinners, trembling, and aghast,
Fearing the Future, conscious of the Past.
A solemn Pause, and Silence most profound
Ensues. At length th'ethereal Trumpet's Sound
46
And Earth a third time to its Centre shakes.
A gen'ral Shout the Saints and Angels raise
(Millions of Millions!) to Messiah's Praise:
“Let God arise; and scatter'd be his Foes.
The yawning Caves their fuel'd Stores disclose;
Exploded Thunders thro' the Welkin roll,
And forky Light'nings flash from Pole to Pole:
Pillars of ruddy Smoke obscure the Sun;
And now the Wreck of Nature is begun.
The hideous Burst of Cannon heard so far,
And all the loud-mouth'd Engin'ry of War,
When fierce Bellona swells her brazen Voice,
Is deepest Silence to This dreadful Noise.
Disgorging Sheets of Flame, and molten Ore,
Ten Thousand Ætnas, and Vesuvios roar.
Huge Globes of Fire drop piece-meal from the Skies,
And meet the Fires which from Volcanos rise.
The blazing Deluge hisses in the Floods,
Pours o'er the Plains, and thunders thro' the Woods.
Woods of immense Extent, of tall, tough Oak,
Which nor of Time, nor Light'ning, fear'd the Stroke,
47
Burnt like dry Shrubs, or Stubble, shrink away:
Less sudden disappears a Field of Corn,
When by the Wind the flying Flames are borne.
Th'exhausted Rivers vanish with the Heat;
Volga, and Indus, and Danubius, great,
Ganges, Euphrates, Nile, deep, rapid, strong,
Which rather Seas, than Rivers, foam along,
So many Ages fam'd, their Country's Boast,
Absorp't, devour'd, are in a Moment lost.
An Universal Earthquake rocks the Ball,
And Towns, and Cities in one Ruin fall.
Why name I These, the trifling Works of Art,
And human Labour? See the Earth dispart
Its riven Jaws: What Terror to behold
Metallick Torrents in red Billows roll'd!
Myriads of Sulph'rous Mines together sprung,
And to the Stars vast rocky Fragments slung!
Vast Rocks, which could the Weight of Citys bear,
Like spongy Pumice-Cinders, twirl'd in Air!
The Ocean, whether Continents, or Isles
It washes, like a burning Cauldron boils:
Ev'n the great Deep, of Waters almost dry'd,
With Streams of liquid Metals is supply'd:
48
And falling Mountains rattle from the Shore.
Amidst This wild Combustion, and the Crush
Of lab'ring Nature; while to Ruin rush
The warring Elements; All now prepar'd,
Once more the Trumpet's Clangor shrill is heard:
The Summons sounds; “To Judgment All; Appear,
“Ye Sons of Men; your final Sentence hear.
The Books are open'd; Rang'd on either hand,
Th'Accusing, and Defending Angels stand:
Those, fall'n, Apostate Angels, Fiends of Night—
These, Sons of purest, and ethereal Light,
Benevolent to Man, would plead his Cause:
But still from Thee, from Thee his Hope He draws,
Great Saviour: Do not Now Thy Mercy grudge;
Be Thou our Advocate, as well as Judge;
Or Oh! we perish—Yet not Judge alone
Is He, tho' Chief: Assessors of his Throne,
Beside him, and behind, and at his Feet,
The Noble Army of the Martyrs sit;
Patriarchs, Apostles, Prophets; all That Host,
Who for their Saviour did, and suffer'd most,
Now with Himself (oh! how great Honour!) join'd
Sit on inferior Thrones, and judge Mankind.
The Rest, in Vertue far beneath them, come
To take their Trial, and receive their Doom:
Of Such, as Representative of All,
Imagine One, obedient to the Call,
Answering for Himself: Awhile He stands
Silent, and lifts to Heav'n his suppliant Hands;
Then bows before the Throne with bended Knees,
And renders his Account in Words like These.
Of lab'ring Nature; while to Ruin rush
The warring Elements; All now prepar'd,
Once more the Trumpet's Clangor shrill is heard:
The Summons sounds; “To Judgment All; Appear,
“Ye Sons of Men; your final Sentence hear.
The Books are open'd; Rang'd on either hand,
Th'Accusing, and Defending Angels stand:
Those, fall'n, Apostate Angels, Fiends of Night—
These, Sons of purest, and ethereal Light,
Benevolent to Man, would plead his Cause:
But still from Thee, from Thee his Hope He draws,
Great Saviour: Do not Now Thy Mercy grudge;
Be Thou our Advocate, as well as Judge;
Or Oh! we perish—Yet not Judge alone
Is He, tho' Chief: Assessors of his Throne,
Beside him, and behind, and at his Feet,
The Noble Army of the Martyrs sit;
Patriarchs, Apostles, Prophets; all That Host,
Who for their Saviour did, and suffer'd most,
49
Sit on inferior Thrones, and judge Mankind.
The Rest, in Vertue far beneath them, come
To take their Trial, and receive their Doom:
Of Such, as Representative of All,
Imagine One, obedient to the Call,
Answering for Himself: Awhile He stands
Silent, and lifts to Heav'n his suppliant Hands;
Then bows before the Throne with bended Knees,
And renders his Account in Words like These.
Thy Servant, Lord, e'er he prefers his Plea,
Urges Thy gracious Pardon. If from Thee
I have no Hope, in Judgment I am Cast:
To be but Object of Thy Pardon pass'd,
Is all the Merit I presume to plead.
By Passions, and Infirmities misled,
Oft I offended thro' Surprize, or Fear;
Nay sometimes Wilful did my Crimes appear,
Yet of Malicious Sinning always clear.
Oft did my Soul receive a Blot, and Stain;
Seduc'd to Guilt by Pleasure, and by Pain.
Sore by the Flesh beset, I greatly fail'd:
And yet, I trust, the Spirit chief prevail'd.
In Thoughts, in Words, in Deeds, I did offend;
But 'tis my Hope, Repentance interven'd
'Twixt Me, and Justice; blest Repentance, crown'd
With Reformation, which maintain'd its Ground.
The Talents, to my Lot by Thee assign'd,
Of Nature, Fortune, Body, Grace, and Mind,
I have improv'd Industrious; to my Trust
Faithful, and acting like a Steward just:
Improv'd them (as it was thy Will I shou'd)
To Thy own Glory, and my Brethrens Good.
Zeal for Thy Honour did my Soul inflame,
Zeal for Thy Church, Thy Sabbath, and Thy Name.
Yet not a Zeal fierce, rapid, or unrul'd;
But check'd by Prudence, and with Reason cool'd.
From Sacrilegious Rapine I was free,
And in thy Priests and Servants, robb'd not Thee.
Thy Priests, as Thy bless'd Work They did partake.
I lov'd, and reverenc'd, for their Labour's sake,
Religious Schisms with Tears I did lament,
And Factions, which Thy mystic Body rent.
With holy Fear I read Thy sacred Word;
And where I could not understand, ador'd:
To Faith made Reason bow, with pious Awe;
And Night and Day enjoy'd Thy heav'nly Law.
Sweeter than Honey was it to my Taste;
Delicious, exquisite, divine Repast.
Thy Book of Nature too both Day and Night
I read, and study'd with sincere Delight:
Thy Wonders of Creation!—How they raise
Our Admiration, and transcend our Praise!
What Love, what Rev'rence must Thy Works inspire,
Ev'n Now, tho' burning in This dreadful Fire!
Redemption!—Providence!—But 'tis too long—
And interrupted stops my fault'ring Tongue.
Thy House I still frequented; on the Bread
Of Life devoutly at Thy Altar fed;
(That heav'nly Manna! more than Angels' Food!)
And, while I drank Thy Sacramental Blood,
Bewail'd Those Sins, which Thy blest Temples dy'd,
And drew the precious Torrent from Thy Side.
In Publick, and in Privacy, Thy Aid
I ever begg'd, and without ceasing Pray'd.
By Charity's celestial Guidance led,
I cloath'd the Naked, and the Hungry fed:
Unmov'd I never heard the Wretched groan:
To many liberal, unjust to None.
Provok'd by Malice, Fraud, Ingratitude,
Receiving Evil in return for Good,
I lov'd my worst of Foes; and ev'n Now crave
To be forgiv'n, as I myself forgave.
My Tongue, as with a Bridle, I restrain'd;
And studious from all evil Words refrain'd:
Would never aught profane, or leud have writ,
For all the Fame that e'er was gain'd by Wit.
I scorn'd Ambition, lov'd obscure Retreat;
And never would be Little, to be Great.
That shining Dirt call'd Gold I still despis'd,
By Others hoarded, and so highly priz'd:
By sordid Avarice was ne'er enslav'd;
And thought not Wealth was giv'n us, to be sav'd.
To save my Soul, not Money, was my Care:
Yet of Profusion's Guilt no less aware,
I stor'd for Those, whom God, and Nature made
Dependant on my Providence, and Aid.
If Passions did my mortal Frame disturb;
Yet Reason check'd them with restraining Curb.
Thy Gifts with chearful Temperance I us'd,
Not to Excess, or Luxury abus'd:
Did from unlawful Pleasures wholly swerve,
And ev'n of lawful tasted with Reserve.
Tho' strongly tempted by soft Beauty's Charms,
I never touch'd a Prostitute's foul Arms;
But us'd my Body, as the Temple pure
Of Him, who no Pollution can endure:
Reflecting, that Temptations gave the Price
To Vertue, as they never cancel'd Vice.
In lowly, humble Thoughts I liv'd, and dy'd;
Wond'ring what wretched Man could mean by Pride.
Whate'er in Me was Good was Thine alone;
My Sins, and Follies only were my own.
Thus, Lord, Thy Servant (This is the Amount)
Of his past Actions renders the Account;
Vile in the Worst, Defective in the Best:
But let Thy Blood, and Merits plead the rest.
Urges Thy gracious Pardon. If from Thee
I have no Hope, in Judgment I am Cast:
To be but Object of Thy Pardon pass'd,
Is all the Merit I presume to plead.
By Passions, and Infirmities misled,
Oft I offended thro' Surprize, or Fear;
Nay sometimes Wilful did my Crimes appear,
Yet of Malicious Sinning always clear.
50
Seduc'd to Guilt by Pleasure, and by Pain.
Sore by the Flesh beset, I greatly fail'd:
And yet, I trust, the Spirit chief prevail'd.
In Thoughts, in Words, in Deeds, I did offend;
But 'tis my Hope, Repentance interven'd
'Twixt Me, and Justice; blest Repentance, crown'd
With Reformation, which maintain'd its Ground.
The Talents, to my Lot by Thee assign'd,
Of Nature, Fortune, Body, Grace, and Mind,
I have improv'd Industrious; to my Trust
Faithful, and acting like a Steward just:
Improv'd them (as it was thy Will I shou'd)
To Thy own Glory, and my Brethrens Good.
Zeal for Thy Honour did my Soul inflame,
Zeal for Thy Church, Thy Sabbath, and Thy Name.
Yet not a Zeal fierce, rapid, or unrul'd;
But check'd by Prudence, and with Reason cool'd.
From Sacrilegious Rapine I was free,
And in thy Priests and Servants, robb'd not Thee.
51
I lov'd, and reverenc'd, for their Labour's sake,
Religious Schisms with Tears I did lament,
And Factions, which Thy mystic Body rent.
With holy Fear I read Thy sacred Word;
And where I could not understand, ador'd:
To Faith made Reason bow, with pious Awe;
And Night and Day enjoy'd Thy heav'nly Law.
Sweeter than Honey was it to my Taste;
Delicious, exquisite, divine Repast.
Thy Book of Nature too both Day and Night
I read, and study'd with sincere Delight:
Thy Wonders of Creation!—How they raise
Our Admiration, and transcend our Praise!
What Love, what Rev'rence must Thy Works inspire,
Ev'n Now, tho' burning in This dreadful Fire!
Redemption!—Providence!—But 'tis too long—
And interrupted stops my fault'ring Tongue.
Thy House I still frequented; on the Bread
Of Life devoutly at Thy Altar fed;
52
And, while I drank Thy Sacramental Blood,
Bewail'd Those Sins, which Thy blest Temples dy'd,
And drew the precious Torrent from Thy Side.
In Publick, and in Privacy, Thy Aid
I ever begg'd, and without ceasing Pray'd.
By Charity's celestial Guidance led,
I cloath'd the Naked, and the Hungry fed:
Unmov'd I never heard the Wretched groan:
To many liberal, unjust to None.
Provok'd by Malice, Fraud, Ingratitude,
Receiving Evil in return for Good,
I lov'd my worst of Foes; and ev'n Now crave
To be forgiv'n, as I myself forgave.
My Tongue, as with a Bridle, I restrain'd;
And studious from all evil Words refrain'd:
Would never aught profane, or leud have writ,
For all the Fame that e'er was gain'd by Wit.
I scorn'd Ambition, lov'd obscure Retreat;
And never would be Little, to be Great.
That shining Dirt call'd Gold I still despis'd,
By Others hoarded, and so highly priz'd:
53
And thought not Wealth was giv'n us, to be sav'd.
To save my Soul, not Money, was my Care:
Yet of Profusion's Guilt no less aware,
I stor'd for Those, whom God, and Nature made
Dependant on my Providence, and Aid.
If Passions did my mortal Frame disturb;
Yet Reason check'd them with restraining Curb.
Thy Gifts with chearful Temperance I us'd,
Not to Excess, or Luxury abus'd:
Did from unlawful Pleasures wholly swerve,
And ev'n of lawful tasted with Reserve.
Tho' strongly tempted by soft Beauty's Charms,
I never touch'd a Prostitute's foul Arms;
But us'd my Body, as the Temple pure
Of Him, who no Pollution can endure:
Reflecting, that Temptations gave the Price
To Vertue, as they never cancel'd Vice.
In lowly, humble Thoughts I liv'd, and dy'd;
Wond'ring what wretched Man could mean by Pride.
Whate'er in Me was Good was Thine alone;
My Sins, and Follies only were my own.
54
Of his past Actions renders the Account;
Vile in the Worst, Defective in the Best:
But let Thy Blood, and Merits plead the rest.
He ceases, bowing low. Messiah smiles,
Gracious: The Ocean, hush'd, in silence boils:
The Mountains intermit their roaring Noise,
And listen to their Great Creator's Voice:
Thro' all the Globe the fierce devouring Fires
Soften their Rage, and bend their humbled Spires;
Earth, Air, and Sea, their universal Wrecks
Suspend; while Thus th'Incarnate Godhead speaks.
Gracious: The Ocean, hush'd, in silence boils:
The Mountains intermit their roaring Noise,
And listen to their Great Creator's Voice:
Thro' all the Globe the fierce devouring Fires
Soften their Rage, and bend their humbled Spires;
Earth, Air, and Sea, their universal Wrecks
Suspend; while Thus th'Incarnate Godhead speaks.
“Well done, Thou Good, and Faithful Servant; Well
Thou hast thyself acquitted: Come, and dwell
With Me, in Happiness without Alloy;
“Enter into thy Lord's eternal Joy.
From Me (with Comfort view thy Judge's Face)
Where Justice must not, Mercy will take place.
Come All, whose Vertue, like His, stedfast found,
And to the last enduring, kept its Ground.
“Receive, Ye Blessed, Your adjudg'd Reward;
“Receive the Kingdom long for You prepar'd,
“Ev'n when the World's Foundations first were laid
By Me, who Now destroy what Then I made.
These are my Sheep, select on my Right hand:
For Those who on my Left secluded stand,
Like sever'd Goats; the Lustful, the Unjust,
The Covetous, th'Unfaithful to their Trust;
Th'Unmerciful, the Perjur'd, the Prophane,
The Hypocrites, whose Godliness was Gain;
Those who Lies lov'd and made, and Lies believ'd,
Deceiving Others, and Themselves deceiv'd:
Th'Intemperate, th'Outrageous, Fierce, and Proud:
Nor These alone, whose Crimes to Heav'n cry'd loud;
But lower Sinners, Those whose Vices, laid
In Ballance, their small Vertue far outweigh'd;
The Lukewarm, Tim'rous, Cowards in God's Cause;
The partial, slight Observers of his Laws;
The Indevout, the Lax, the Negligent,
Who Time's rich Talent in vain Trifles spent;
Those who some Vices, but not all, forbore,
Lov'd God a little, but the World much more:
All These, since dead in Trespasses they dy'd,
Heav'n's Wrath, and righteous Vengeance must abide.
All know th'Excuses they would plead, to screen
Their Guilts: But how fallacious, weak, and thin?
Temptations press'd them—Had it not been so;
What Vertue could they have propos'd to show?
Eternal Bliss were sure too cheaply bought;
If gain'd for Doing, and for Suff'ring Nought;
Were Punishment to such Sins only due,
As vicious Human Nature rarely knew:
The Poor's Profuseness, th'Unprovok'd man's Rage,
The Avarice of Youth, the Lust of Age:
Tho' to the World ev'n These were not unknown:
And what can for a Guilt like This attone?
When by Infirmities they were betray'd;
Was not my Strength sufficient for their Aid?
But did they not reject my proffer'd Grace,
And hurl my Gifts into the Giver's Face?
Did not That faithful Witness in each Breast,
Conscience, against their wicked Lives protest;
And warn them that, however they excus'd
Their Crimes, they willfully Themselves abus'd?
Infinite is, They said, Gods, Mercy: True;
But infinite is not his Justice too?
Mercy, tho' infinite, cannot be shown
To Sinners, who are capable of None,
Th'Impenitent.—But why did God make Those,
Who, He foreknew, must suffer endless Woes?
And why would'st Thou attempt, presumptuous Man,
To grasp Infinity with Thy short Span?
Tho' This Thou canst not comprehend; God can.
To be forever Happy, He made All:
But needs must make them free to stand, or fall.
Else, where were Vertue, and Reward? Some stood,
But not necessitated to be Good.
Some fell; but free to stand; Their Fault their Own;
Whom can they blame then, but Themselves alone?
However; Who has aught to plead, may speak—
I hear not One the guilty Silence break.
Thus much; that God in Judgment might appear
Most Righteous, and of all Injustice clear.
Thou hast thyself acquitted: Come, and dwell
With Me, in Happiness without Alloy;
“Enter into thy Lord's eternal Joy.
From Me (with Comfort view thy Judge's Face)
Where Justice must not, Mercy will take place.
Come All, whose Vertue, like His, stedfast found,
And to the last enduring, kept its Ground.
“Receive, Ye Blessed, Your adjudg'd Reward;
“Receive the Kingdom long for You prepar'd,
55
By Me, who Now destroy what Then I made.
These are my Sheep, select on my Right hand:
For Those who on my Left secluded stand,
Like sever'd Goats; the Lustful, the Unjust,
The Covetous, th'Unfaithful to their Trust;
Th'Unmerciful, the Perjur'd, the Prophane,
The Hypocrites, whose Godliness was Gain;
Those who Lies lov'd and made, and Lies believ'd,
Deceiving Others, and Themselves deceiv'd:
Th'Intemperate, th'Outrageous, Fierce, and Proud:
Nor These alone, whose Crimes to Heav'n cry'd loud;
But lower Sinners, Those whose Vices, laid
In Ballance, their small Vertue far outweigh'd;
The Lukewarm, Tim'rous, Cowards in God's Cause;
The partial, slight Observers of his Laws;
The Indevout, the Lax, the Negligent,
Who Time's rich Talent in vain Trifles spent;
Those who some Vices, but not all, forbore,
Lov'd God a little, but the World much more:
56
Heav'n's Wrath, and righteous Vengeance must abide.
All know th'Excuses they would plead, to screen
Their Guilts: But how fallacious, weak, and thin?
Temptations press'd them—Had it not been so;
What Vertue could they have propos'd to show?
Eternal Bliss were sure too cheaply bought;
If gain'd for Doing, and for Suff'ring Nought;
Were Punishment to such Sins only due,
As vicious Human Nature rarely knew:
The Poor's Profuseness, th'Unprovok'd man's Rage,
The Avarice of Youth, the Lust of Age:
Tho' to the World ev'n These were not unknown:
And what can for a Guilt like This attone?
When by Infirmities they were betray'd;
Was not my Strength sufficient for their Aid?
But did they not reject my proffer'd Grace,
And hurl my Gifts into the Giver's Face?
Did not That faithful Witness in each Breast,
Conscience, against their wicked Lives protest;
And warn them that, however they excus'd
Their Crimes, they willfully Themselves abus'd?
57
But infinite is not his Justice too?
Mercy, tho' infinite, cannot be shown
To Sinners, who are capable of None,
Th'Impenitent.—But why did God make Those,
Who, He foreknew, must suffer endless Woes?
And why would'st Thou attempt, presumptuous Man,
To grasp Infinity with Thy short Span?
Tho' This Thou canst not comprehend; God can.
To be forever Happy, He made All:
But needs must make them free to stand, or fall.
Else, where were Vertue, and Reward? Some stood,
But not necessitated to be Good.
Some fell; but free to stand; Their Fault their Own;
Whom can they blame then, but Themselves alone?
However; Who has aught to plead, may speak—
I hear not One the guilty Silence break.
Thus much; that God in Judgment might appear
Most Righteous, and of all Injustice clear.
But who are They, distinguish'd from the Rest?
Scoffers; who turn'd my Gospel into Jest:
Who thought, against right Reason's sober Rules,
That Thinking freely was to Think like Fools.
They understood not Mysterys: Demand
Of Them who list, what did they understand?
Had Nature not her Mysterys, unknown
To Them? Why must Religion then have none?
God's Revelations always were Their Scorn:
How will his righteous Judgment now be borne,
When God from Heav'n, not Now at least conceal'd,
In flaming Fire, and Vengeance is reveal'd?
See how they gnash their Teeth, and rend their Hair,
In all the Pangs of Malice and Despair:
Malice against their Saviour, whom they brav'd;
Who would have sav'd them, would they have been sav'd.
An Isle there was in Europe (late so nam'd)
My Fav'rite once, for pure Religion fam'd:
There These Apostate Miscreants, in an Age
The most corrupt, against Me belch'd their Rage.
At the same time, t'adore the Temp'ral Pow'rs,
(As if Their Grandeur greater were than Ours)
Industrious They employ'd their utmost Skill:
From the same venal prostituted Quill
The Atheism, and the Panegyrick stream'd:
The Great Men flatter'd, the Great God blasphem'd.
By These, had I again came down from Heav'n,
And Pow'r, like Pilate's, had to Them been giv'n,
I had again with Shame, and Tortures dy'd;
Again been Spit on, Scourg'd, and Crucify'd.
A moral, vertuous Heathen, born, and bred
In unsought Ignorance, has much to plead;
May hope for some Reward, tho' None is due,
And bless my Merits, which He never knew:
But a Baptiz'd, a Christian Infidel!—
Where can He have his Portion, but in Hell?
Ye Wicked All, Your Sentence now attend;
Who fin'd on, Unrepentant to the End.
'Tis pass'd: You have outstood the Day of Grace;
Where Mercy cannot, Justice must take place.
“Depart, Ye Cursed, into endless Fire;
“To Sulph'rous Flames which never shall expire:
“Go; find in Hell, for Them, and You prepar'd,
“With Satan, and his Crew, your just Reward.
Be This the Doom of All who dy'd in Vice:
But Those, my more Emphatic Enemys,
Who against Mine did Satan's Cause maintain,
“And would not I their King should o'er them reign,
Must be preferr'd before the Rest: Let Those
Who with cool, reas'ning Malice were my Foes,
Obdur'd Apostates, in Hell's deepest Pit
Enjoy their fam'd Philosophy, and Wit;
There feel His Vengeance, to confound their Pride,
Whose Godhead, and whose Gospel they deny'd.
Scoffers; who turn'd my Gospel into Jest:
58
That Thinking freely was to Think like Fools.
They understood not Mysterys: Demand
Of Them who list, what did they understand?
Had Nature not her Mysterys, unknown
To Them? Why must Religion then have none?
God's Revelations always were Their Scorn:
How will his righteous Judgment now be borne,
When God from Heav'n, not Now at least conceal'd,
In flaming Fire, and Vengeance is reveal'd?
See how they gnash their Teeth, and rend their Hair,
In all the Pangs of Malice and Despair:
Malice against their Saviour, whom they brav'd;
Who would have sav'd them, would they have been sav'd.
An Isle there was in Europe (late so nam'd)
My Fav'rite once, for pure Religion fam'd:
There These Apostate Miscreants, in an Age
The most corrupt, against Me belch'd their Rage.
At the same time, t'adore the Temp'ral Pow'rs,
(As if Their Grandeur greater were than Ours)
Industrious They employ'd their utmost Skill:
From the same venal prostituted Quill
59
The Great Men flatter'd, the Great God blasphem'd.
By These, had I again came down from Heav'n,
And Pow'r, like Pilate's, had to Them been giv'n,
I had again with Shame, and Tortures dy'd;
Again been Spit on, Scourg'd, and Crucify'd.
A moral, vertuous Heathen, born, and bred
In unsought Ignorance, has much to plead;
May hope for some Reward, tho' None is due,
And bless my Merits, which He never knew:
But a Baptiz'd, a Christian Infidel!—
Where can He have his Portion, but in Hell?
Ye Wicked All, Your Sentence now attend;
Who fin'd on, Unrepentant to the End.
'Tis pass'd: You have outstood the Day of Grace;
Where Mercy cannot, Justice must take place.
“Depart, Ye Cursed, into endless Fire;
“To Sulph'rous Flames which never shall expire:
“Go; find in Hell, for Them, and You prepar'd,
“With Satan, and his Crew, your just Reward.
Be This the Doom of All who dy'd in Vice:
But Those, my more Emphatic Enemys,
60
“And would not I their King should o'er them reign,
Must be preferr'd before the Rest: Let Those
Who with cool, reas'ning Malice were my Foes,
Obdur'd Apostates, in Hell's deepest Pit
Enjoy their fam'd Philosophy, and Wit;
There feel His Vengeance, to confound their Pride,
Whose Godhead, and whose Gospel they deny'd.
Th'Assessors, to his Voice assenting, rise:
Unnumber'd Hallelujahs shake the Skys:
Hosannahs infinite, the Heav'ns around,
Like many Waters, and loud Thund'rings, sound.
“Great, marvellous, are all thy Works of Praise;
“And just, and true, O King of Saints, Thy Ways.
Thy Glory (All Thy Sentence must approve)
Triumphs in Hell below, in Heaven above;
And shines no less in Vengeance, than in Love.
Unnumber'd Hallelujahs shake the Skys:
Hosannahs infinite, the Heav'ns around,
Like many Waters, and loud Thund'rings, sound.
“Great, marvellous, are all thy Works of Praise;
“And just, and true, O King of Saints, Thy Ways.
Thy Glory (All Thy Sentence must approve)
Triumphs in Hell below, in Heaven above;
And shines no less in Vengeance, than in Love.
Think Thou, who shalt peruse This serious Verse,
What Arrows at That Hour, thy Soul shall pierce,
If guilty it be found: And Oh! take care
Thy self for That Tribunal to prepare.
Nor be too certain, that the Time unknown
Is many Ages distant from our own.
Whoe'er observes the little Faith on Earth,
Would think the wond'rous Period near its Birth.
Ourselves perhaps, not fated to expire,
May in These Bodies see the World on fire;
Hear the last Trumpet sound, commanded meet
The Coming Judge, and tremble at his Feet.
Thy Death, however, (and That soon must come)
Is in effect to Thee the Day of Doom.
Meditate much on This: for Me too pray,
That I unterrify'd may see That Day;
That Both our truest Int'rest may discern,
“And, teaching Others, I myself may learn.
What Arrows at That Hour, thy Soul shall pierce,
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Thy self for That Tribunal to prepare.
Nor be too certain, that the Time unknown
Is many Ages distant from our own.
Whoe'er observes the little Faith on Earth,
Would think the wond'rous Period near its Birth.
Ourselves perhaps, not fated to expire,
May in These Bodies see the World on fire;
Hear the last Trumpet sound, commanded meet
The Coming Judge, and tremble at his Feet.
Thy Death, however, (and That soon must come)
Is in effect to Thee the Day of Doom.
Meditate much on This: for Me too pray,
That I unterrify'd may see That Day;
That Both our truest Int'rest may discern,
“And, teaching Others, I myself may learn.
'Tis not to Talk, and Preach, and Write, but Live,
That Then will solid Peace, and Comfort give.
Should One, like Homer, Virgil, Milton, rise,
To set the last Great Day before our Eyes;
To make us Chaste, Sincere, Religious, Just,
Yet be Himself enthrall'd to Vice, and Lust;
Perish would He, tho' Others He might Save:
And, having pass'd thro' Death's strait Gate, the Grave,
See Them in highest Heav'n, Himself in Hell;
And rue That Judgment, which He sung so well.
That Then will solid Peace, and Comfort give.
Should One, like Homer, Virgil, Milton, rise,
To set the last Great Day before our Eyes;
To make us Chaste, Sincere, Religious, Just,
Yet be Himself enthrall'd to Vice, and Lust;
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And, having pass'd thro' Death's strait Gate, the Grave,
See Them in highest Heav'n, Himself in Hell;
And rue That Judgment, which He sung so well.
Nothing can be more plain than that in those Predictions Matth. xxiv. Mark. xiii. Luke xxi. our Saviour had a View both to the Destruction of Jerusalem, and the End of the World; the One being a Type of the Other. Some Passages mean the First; some the Second; and some Both. This is partly prov'd, even Here in Verse. Much more might be said; but This is not a Place for it.
Mention is made, in several Places of Scripture, of seven Angels in particular, distinguish'd from the rest. Thus in the Revelation, the seven Angels with Trumpets; and with the Vials. And Tobit xii. 15. I am Raphael, one of the Seven holy Angels.
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