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Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works

in Prose and Verse. The Text Edited by A. R. Waller

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 I. 
 II. 
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 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
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 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
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 XXI. 
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 I. 
 II. 
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God is Love.
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 I. 
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294

God is Love.

I.

Almighty Power!
Whom Angells Hymns, men's Prayers adore.
For whom no Speech, no thought cou'd frame
A comprehensive Name;
Till Thou from Heav'n vouchsafst a ray,
Thy glory and our knowledge to improve;
Thou mixt Thy beams with our exalted Clay,
And we, enlightened, learn to call thee Love.

II.

All was in Chaos and confusion laid
Till by Loves creating word
The melancholy Mass was stir'd
And the commanded Elements with hasty joy obey'd.
Then peaceful Sphears with wond'rous Music roll'd,
Time his harmonious course began,
The circling Years in glad procession ran,
Order and beauty blest the New-born World.
And every object strove to prove
That all was made and all preserv'd by love.

III.

When Heav'ns last noblest Masterpiece was made
Love, pow'rful love, unlockt his pregnant side
And kindly thence call'd forth the blushing Bride
Love to his heart a secret was convey'd
And made him bless the wound --- court the Maid
Love did the willing Souls unite
Whilst he became her strength She his delight
This happy Pair more truly One
Then when both Sexes lay in Adams side alone.

295

IV.

Thus they liv'd and thus they Lov'd
Each smiling Hour their bliss improv'd
But when for knowledge and Sins sake they stray'd
When God and love were disobey'd
By God and love the mild decree was giv'n
Which threw them down from Paradise and rais'd them up to Heav'n.

V.

Exalted Lyre thy tuneful sinews move
Teach Man divinity and love
Forgetfull Man in Bethlems poor abode
Behold new born Eternity
And hear the Thunderers voice chang'd to an Infants cry
Nourish'd like Thee with circulating blood
Compound like Thee with limbs and cloath'd with skin
Like Thee in every thing, but Sin.

VI.

Then cast (if Tears restrain not) cast thy Eye
Up to the dismal top of frighted Calvary
See whom thy Pray'rs so oft invok'd
To whom thy fatlings fell, thy Altars smoak'd
See to the fatal Cross he's ty'd
The thorns his temples wound, the spear his side:
And to compleat his glorious Miserys,
Imperious Love, what wou'dst thou more? he Dyes.
What wou'dst Thou more? Thy Deity we own
By thy mysterious Power alone
The World was fram'd, Man sav'd, God crucified.