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Torrour receives us, and the dismal wish

The Sun beheld it - no, the shocking scene Creation had been smother'd in her birth

Drove back his chariot: midnight veil'd his face ; Darkness is his curtain, and his bed the dust; Not such as this; not such as Nature makes ; Vhen stars and Sun are dust beneath his throna! A midnight Nature shudder'd to behold; n Heaven itself can such indulgence dwell ? A midnight new! a dread eclipse (without ) what a groan was there! a groan not his. Opposing spheres) from her Creator's frown! le seiz'd our dreadful right; the load sustain'd; Sun ! didst thou fly thy Maker's pain? Or start And heav'd the mountain from a guilty world. At that enormous load of human guilt,

(cross; thousand worlds, so bought, were bought too dear; which bow'd his blessed head; o'erwhelmed his ensations new in angels' bosoms rise ;

Made groan the centre; burst Earth's marble womb, uspend their song ! and make a pause in bliss. With pangs, strange pangs ! deliver'd of her dead ?

O for their song; to reach my lofty theme ! Hell howl'd; and Heaven that hour let fall a tear ; aspire me, Night ! with all thy tuneful spheres; Heaven wept, that men might smile! Heaven bled, Vhilst I with seraphs share seraphic themes !

that man nd show to men the dignity of man;

Might never die ! est I blaspheme my subject with my song.

And is devotion virtue? 'T is compell’da hall Pagan pages glow celestial flame,

What heart of stone but glows at thoughts like these ? ind Christian languish? on our hearts, not heads, Such contemplations mount us; and should mount alls the foul infamy: my heart! awake.

The mind still higher ; nor ever glance on man Vhat can awake thee, unawak'd by this,

Unraptur’d, uninflam'd. - Where roll my thoughts Expended deity on human weal ”

To rest from wonders ? other wonders rise ; 'eel the great truths, which burst the tenfold night And strike where'er they roll: my soul is caught : of heathen errour, with a golden flood

Heaven's sovereign blessings, clustering from the If endless day: to feel, is to be fir’d;

cross, und to believe, Lorenzo! is to feel.

Rush on her, in a throng, and close her round, Thou most indulgent, most tremendous Power! The prisoner of amaze! -- in his blest life till more tremendous, for thy wondrous love ! I see the path, and in his death the price, 'hat arms, with awe more aweful, thy commands; And in his great ascent the proof supreme nd foul transgression dips in sevenfold night! Of immortality. — And did he rise ? low our hearts tremble at thy love immense ! Hear, Oye nations ! hear it, () ye dead ! a love immense, inviolably just !

He rose ! he rose! he burst the bars of death. "hou, rather than thy justice should be stain'd, Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates ! Didst stain the cross; and work of wonders far And give the King of glory to come in. 'he greatest, that thy dearest far might bleed. Who is the King of glory ? he who left

Bold thought! shall I dare speak it, or repress? | His throne of glory, for the pang of death! bould man more execrate, or boast, the guilt Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates! Vhich rous'd such vengeance? which such love in- And give the King of glory to come in. flam'd?

[arms, Who is the King of glory ? he who slew -V'er guilt (how mountainous !) with out-stretch'd | The ravenous foe, that gorg'd all human race! tern justice and soft-smiling love embrace,

The King of glory, he, whose glory fillid Supporting, in full majesty, thy throne,

Heaven with amazement at his love to man; Vhen seem'd its majesty to need support,

And with divine complacency beheld Dr that, or man, inevitably lost;

Powers most illumin'd, wilder'd in the theme. Vhat, but the fathomless of thought divine,

The theme, the joy, how then shall man sustain ? Could labour such expedient from despair,

Oh the burst gates! crush'd sting! demolish'd Ind rescue both ? both rescue! both exalt!

throne !

[Heaven! O how are both exalted by the deed !

Last gasp! of vanquish'd Death. Shout Earth and Che wondrous deed! or shall I call it more ? This sum of good to man. Whose nature, then, A wonder in Omnipotence itself!

Took wing, and mounted with him from the tomb ! A mystery no less to gods than men!

Then, then, I rose; then first humanity Not thus, our infidels the Eternal draw,

Triumphant pass'd the crystal ports of light, A God all o'er, consummate, absolute,

(Stupendous guest !) and seiz'd eternal youth, Full-orb'd, in his whole round of rays complete : Seiz'd in our name. E'er since, 't is blasphemous They set at odds Heaven's jarring attributes ; To call man mortal. Man's mortality (ration And, with one excellence, another wound;

Was, then, transferr'd to death; and Heaven's duMaim Heaven's perfection, break its equal beams, Unalienably seal'd to this frail frame, Bid mercy triumph over — God himself,

This child of dust - Man, all immortal! hail; Undeified by their opprobrious praise :

Hail, Heaven! all lavish of strange gifts to man! A God all mercy, is a God unjust.

Thine all the glory; man's the boundless bliss. Ye brainless wits ! ye baptiz'd infidels !

Where am I rapt by this triumphant theme, Ye worse for mending! wash'd to fouler stains ! On Christian joy's exulting wing, above The ransom was paid down; the fund of Heaven, Th' Aonian mount? Alas! small cause for joy! Heaven's inexhaustible, exhausted fund,

What if to pain immortal ? if extent Amazing, and amaz’d, pour'd forth the price, Of being, to preclude a close of woe? All price beyond: though curious to compute, Where, then, my boast of immortality ? Archangels fail'd to cast the mighty sum :

I boast it still, though cover'd o'er with guilt ; Its value vast, ungrasp'd by minds create,

For guilt, not innocence, his life he pour’d, For ever hides, and glows, in the Supreme.

'T is guilt alone can justify his death! And was the ransom paid ? it was: and paid Nor that, unless his death can justify (What can exalt the bounty more ?) for you ! Relenting guilt in Heaven's indulgent sight.

If, sick of folly, I relent; he writes

O most adorable! most unador'd! My name in Heaven, with that inverted spear Where shall thy praise begin, which ne'er shout T (A spear deep-dipt in blood !) which pierc'd his side,

end? And opeu'd there a font for all mankind,

Where'er I turn, what claim on all applause! Who strive, who combat crimes, to drink, and live: How is night's sable mantle labour'd o'er, This, only this, subdues the fear of death.

How richly wrought with attributes divine ! (prema And what is this? - Survey the wondrous cure: What wisdom shines ! what love ! this midnight Fu And at each step, let higher wonder rise !

This gorgeous arch, with golden worlds inlay'd! « Pardon for infinite offence! and pardon

Built with divine ambition ! nought to thee;
Through means that speak value infinite! For others this profusion : thou, apart,
A pardon bought with blood! with blood divine ! Above ! beyond ! O tell me, mighty Mind !
With blood divine of him I made my foe!

Where art thou? Shall I dive into the deep?
Persisted to provoke! though woo'd, and aw'd, Call to the Sun, or ask the roaring winds,
Blest, and chastis'd, a flagrant rebel still !

For their Creator ! Shall I question loud A rebel, 'midst the thunders of his throne !

The thunder, if in that th' Almighty dwells? Nor I alone! a rebel universe !

Or holds he furious storms in straitend reins, My species up in arms! not one exempt!

And bids fierce whirlwinds wheel his rapid car? Yet for the foulest of the foul he dies,

What mean these questions? Trembling, I retract, Most joy'd, for the redeem'd from deepest guilt ! My prostrate soul adores the present God: As if our race were held of highest rank ; Praise I a distant deity? He tunes And godhead dearer, as more kind to man !" My voice (if tun'd); the nerve, that writes, sustains: du

Bound, every heart ! and every bosom, burn! Wrapt in his being, I resound bis praise :
O what a scale of miracles is here !

But though past all diffus'd, without a shore,
Its lowest round, high planted on the skies; His essence; local is his throne, (as meet,)
Its towering summit lost beyond the thought To gather the disperst, (as standards call
Of man or angel ! O that I could climb

The listed from afar): to fix a point,
The wonderful ascent, with equal praise !

A central point, collective of his sons Praise ! flow for ever (if astonishment

Since finite every nature but his own. Will give thee leave :) my praise ! for ever flow; The nameless He, whose nod is Nature's birth; Praise ardent, cordial, constant, to high Heaven And Nature's shield, the shadow of his hand; More fragrant, than Arabia sacrific'd,

Her dissolution, his suspended smile! And all her spicy mountains in a flame.

The great First-Last! pavilion'd high he sits, So dear, so due to Heaven, shall praise descend, In darkness from excessive splendour borne, With her soft plume (from plausive angel's wing By gods unseen, unless through lustre lost. First pluck'd by man) to tickle mortal ears, His glory, to created glory, bright, Thus diving in the pockets of the great ?

As that to central horrours; he looks down Is praise the perquisite of every paw,

On all that soars; and spans immensity, Though black as Hell, that grapples well for gold ? Though night unnumber'd worlds unfolds to vie Oh love of gold! thou meanest of amours ! Boundless creation! what art thou ? A beam, Shall praise her odours waste on virtue's dead, A mere effluvium of his majesty : Embalm the base, perfume the stench of guilt, And shall an atom of this atom-world Earn dirty bread by washing Ethiops fair,

Mutter, in dust and sin, the theme of Hearen ? Removing filth, or sinking it from sight,

Down to the centre should I send my thought A scavenger in scenes, where vacant posts,

Through beds of glittering ore; and glowing guis Like gibbets yet untenanted, expect

Their beggar'd blaze wants lustre for my lay; Their future ornaments? From courts and thrones, Goes out in darkness: if, on towering wing, Return, apostate Praise ! thou vagabond !

I send it through the boundless vault of stars! Thou prostitute ! to thy first love return,

The stars, though rich, what dross their gold to the Thy first, thy greatest, once unrivall’d theme. Great! good! wise ! wonderful! eternal King!

There flow redundant; like Meander flow, If to those conscious stars thy throne around, Back to thy fountain ; to that Parent Power, Praise ever-pouring, and imbibing bliss ; Who gives the tongue to sound, the thought to soar, And ask their strain; they want it

, more they we The soul to be. Men homage pay to men, Poor their abundance, humble their sublime, Thoughtless beneath whose dreadful eye they bow Languid their energy, their ardour cold, In mutual awe profound of clay to clay,

Indebted still, their highest rapture burns ; Of guilt to guilt; and turn their back on thee, Short of its mark, defective, though divine. (ale; Great Sire! whom thrones celestial ceaseless sing: Still more - This theme is man's, and mar To prostrate angels, an amazing scene !

Their vast appointments reach it not : they see O the presumption of man's awe for man ! On Earth a bounty not indulg'd on high; Man's Author! End! Restorer ! Law! and Judge! And downward look for Heaven's superior praise! Thine, all; day thine, and thine this gloom of night, First born of ether! high in fields of light! With all her wealth, with all her radiant worlds: View man, to see the glory of your

God! What, night eternal, but a frown from thee ? Could angels envy, they had envied here; What, Heaven's meridian glory, but thy smile? And some did envy; and the rest, though god, And shall not praise be thine, not human praise ? While Heaven's high host on hallelujahs live?

Yet still gods unredeem'd, (there triumphs man,

Tempted to weigh the dust against the skies)
O may I breathe no longer than I breathe
My soul in praise to him, who gave my soul,

They less would feel, though more adorn, my
And all her infinite of prospect fair,

They sung Creation (for in that they shar'd): Cut through the shades of Hell, arcal iove ! by thee, Creation's great superior, man! is thire ;

How rose in melody, that child of love!

Thine is redemption ; they just gave the key : Conception unconfin'd wants wings to reach him: "T is thine to raise, and eternize, the song ;

Beyond its reach, the Godhead only, more.
Though human, yet divine : for should not this He, the great Father ! kindled at one flame
Raise man o'er man, and kindle seraphs here? The world of rationals; one spirit pour'd
Redemption ! 't was creation more sublime ; From spirit's aweful fountain : pour'd himself
Redemption ! 't was the labour of the skies; Through all their souls; but not in equal stream,
far more than labour - It was death in Heaven. Profuse, or frugal, of th' aspiring God,
A truth so strange! 't were bold to think it true; As his wise plan demanded ; and when past
If not far bolder still to disbelieve!

Their various trials in their various spheres,
Here pause, and ponder : was there death in If they continue rational, as made,
Heaven?

Resorbs them all into himself again ; What then on Earth ? On Earth, which struck the His throne their centre, and his smile their crown. blow?

Why doubt we, then, the glorious truth to sing, Who struck it? Who ? . O how is man enlarg'd Though yet unsung, as deem'd, perhaps, too bold? jeen through this medium! how the pigmy towers ! | Angels are men of a superior kind; low counterpois'd his origin from dust!

Angels are men in lighter habit clad, low counterpois'd, to dust his sad return ! High o'er celestial mountains wing'd in flight; low voided his vast distance from the skies ! And men are angels loaded for an hour, low near he presses on the seraph's wing ! Who wade this miry vale, and climb with pain, Vhich is the seraph ? Which the born of clay ? And slippery step, the bottom of the steep. low this demonstrates, through the thickest cloud Angels their failings, mortals have their praise ; of guilt, and clay condens'd, the son of Heaven ! While here, of corps ethereal, such enroll’d, he double son; the made, and the re-made ! And summon'd to the glorious standard soon, nd shall Heaven's double property be lost ? Which fames eternal crimson through the skies. lan's double madness only can destroy.

Nor are our brothers thoughtless of their kin, o man the bleeding cross has promis'd all ; Yet absent; but not absent from their love. he bleeding cross has sworn eternal grace ; Michael has fought our battles ; Raphael sung Tho gave his life, what grace shall he deny? Our triumphs; Gabriel on our errands flown, ye! who, from this rock of ages, leap,

Sent by the Sovereign: and are these, O man ! postates, plunging headlong in the deep ! Thy friends, thy warm allies? and thou (shame burn That cordial joy, what consolation strong,

The cheek to cinder!) rival to the brute ? "hatever winds arise, or billows roll,

Religion 's All. Descending from the skies ur interest in the master of the storm!

To wretched man, the goddess, in her left, ling there, and in wreck'd Nature's ruin smile ; Holds out this world, and, in her right, the next ; "hile vile apostates tremble in a calm.

Religion ! the sole voucher man is man; Man! know thyself. All wisdom centres there : Supporter sole of man above himself ; o none man seems ignoble, but to man;

E'en in this night of frailty, change, and death, ngels that grandeur, men o'erlook, admire : She gives the soul a soul that acts a god. ow long shall human nature be their book, Religion! Providence ! an after-state ! egenerate mortal! and unread by thee?

Here is firm footing; here is solid rock ! he beam dim reason sheds shows wonders there ; This can support us; all is sea besides ; hat high contents ! Illustrious faculties ! Sinks under us; bestorms, and then devours. ut the grand comment, which displays at full His hand the good man fastens on the skies, ur human height, scarce sever'd from divine, And bids Earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl. y Heaven compos’d, was publish'd on the cross. As when a wretch, from thick, polluted air,

Who looks on that, and sees not in himself Darkness and stench, and suffocation-damps, in aweful stranger, a terrestrial god ?

And dungeon-horrours, by kind fate, discharg'd, glorious partner with the Deity

Climbs some fair eminence, where ether pure 1 tbat high attribute, immortal life?

Surrounds him, and Elysian prospects rise, a God bleeds, he bleeds not for a worm : His heart exults, his spirits cast their load: gaze, and, as I gaze, my mounting soul

As if new-born, he triumphs in the change; itches strange fire, Eternity! at thee;

So joys the soul, when, from inglorious aims, nd drops the world - or rather, more enjoys : And sordid sweets, from feculence and froth ow chang'd the face of Nature ! how improv'd ! Of ties terrestrial, set at large, she mounts hat seem'd a chaos, shines a glorious world, To reason's region, her own element, , what a world, an Eden ; heighten'd all! Breathes hopes inmortal, and affects the skies. is another scene! another self!

Religion ! thou the soul of happiness ; nd still another, as time rolls along;

And, groaning Calvary, of thee! There shine ad that a self far more illustrious still

.

The noblest truths; there strongest motives sting ; zyond long ages, yet roll’d up in shades

There sacred violence assaults the soul; npierc'd by bold conjecture's keenest ray, There, nothing but compulsion is forborne. hat evolutions of surprising fate !

Can love allure us? or can terrour awe ? ow Nature opens, and receives my soul

He weeps !- the falling drop puts out the Sun; i boundless walks of raptur'd thought! where gods He sighs - the sigh Earth's deep foundation shakes. ncounter and embrace me! What new births If in his love so terrible, what then f strange adventure, foreign to the Sun;

His wrath inflam'd ? his tenderness on fire ? "here what now charms, perhaps, whate'er exists, Like soft, smooth oil, outblazing other fires ? Id time, and fair creation, are forgot!

Can prayer, can praise, avert it?- Thou, my All! Is this extravagant? Of man we form

My theme! my inspiration ! and my crown! stravagant conception, to be just :

My strength in age! my rise in low estate !

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My soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth !my world! | This mouldering, old, partition-wall throw down?
My light in darkness! and my life in death! Give beings, one in nature, one abode ?
My boast through time! bliss through eternity! Oh Death divine ! that giv'st us to the skies!
Eternity, too short to speak thy praise !

Great future ! glorious patron of the past,
Or fathom thy profound of love to man !

And present! when shall I thy shrine adore ? To man, of men the meanest, e'en to me;

From Nature's continent, immensely wide, My sacrifice! my God! - what things are these ! Immensely blest, this little isle of life, What then art thou ? by what name shall I call This dark, incarcerated colony, thee?

Divides us.

Happy day! that breaks our chain; Knew I the name devout archangels use,

That manumits; that calls from exile home; Devout archangels should the name enjoy,

That leads to Nature's great metropolis, By me unrivali'd; thousands more sublime, And re-admits us, through the guardian hand None half so dear, as that, which, though unspoke, of elder brothers, to our Father's throne; Still glows at heart : O how omnipotence

Who hears our Advocate, and, through his wounds Is lost in love! Thou great philanthropist ! Beholding man, allows that tender name. Father of angels! but the friend of man!

'T is this makes Christian triumph a command : Like Jacob, fondest of the younger born! 'T is this makes joy a duty to the wise ; Thou, who didst save him, snatch the smoking brand | 'T is impious in a good man to be sad. From out the flames, and quench it in thy blood ! See thou, Lorenzo! where hangs all our hope? How art thou pleas'd, by bounty to distress ! Touch'd by the cross, we live; or, more than de To make us groan beneath our gratitude,

That touch which touch'd not angels; more divise Too big for birth! to favour, and confound ! Than that which touch'd confusion into form, To challenge, and to distance all return !

And darkness into glory : partial touch! Of lavish love stupendous heights to soar,

Ineffably pre-eminent regard ! And leave praise panting in the distant vale ! Sacred to man, and sovereign through the whole Thy right, too great, defrauds thee of thy due ; Long golden chain of miracles, which hangs And sacrilegious our sublimest song.

From Heaven through all duration, and support But since the naked will obtains thy smile,

In one illustrious and amazing plan, Beneath this monument of praise unpaid,

Thy welfare, Nature! and thy God's renown; And future life symphonious to my strain, That touch, with charm celestial, heals the soul (That noblest hymn to Heaven !) for ever lie Diseas’d, drives pain from guilt, lights life in das Întomb'd my fear of death! and every fear, Turns Earth to Heaven, to heavenly thrones tras The dread of every evil, but thy frown.

forms Whom see I, yonder, so demurely smile ? The ghastly ruins of the mouldering tomb, Laughter a labour, and might break their rest.

Dost ask me when ? When he who died retur: Ye quietists, in homage to the skies!

Returns, how chang'd! Where then the resu Serene! of soft address! who mildly make

woe? An unobtrusive tender of your hearts,

In glory's terrours all the Godhead burns; Abhorring violence; who halt indeed;

And all his courts, exhausted by the tide
But, for the blessing, wrestle not with Heaven ! Of deities, triumphant in his train,
Think you my song too turbulent? too warm ? Leave a stupendous solitude in Heaven;
Are passions, then, the pagans of the soul ?

Replenish'd soon, replenish'd with increase Reason alone baptiz'd ? alone ordain'd

Of pomp, and multitude; a radiant band To touch things sacred ? Oh for warmer still ! Of angels new; of angels from the tomb. Guilt chills my zeal, and age benumbs my powers : Is this my fancy thrown remote ? and rise Oh for an humbler heart ! and prouder song ! Dark doubts between the promise and event? Thou, my much-injur'd theme with that soft eye I send thee not to volumes for thy cure; Which melted o'er doom'd Salem, deign to look Read Nature; Nature is a friend to truth; Compassion to the coldness of my breast;

Nature is Christian ; preaches to mankind; And pardon to the winter in my strain.

And bids dead matter aid us in our creed. Oh ye cold-hearted, frozen, formalists !

Hast thou ne'er seen the comet's flaming fight? On such a theme, 't is impious to be calm; Th' illustrious stranger, passing, terrour sheds Passion is reason, transport temper, here.

On gazing nations; from his fiery train Shall Heaven, which gave us ardour, and has shown Of length enormous, takes his ample round Her own for man so strongly, not disdain

Through depths of ether; coasts unnumber'd words What smooth emollients in theology,

Of more than solar glory ; doubles wide Recumbent virtue's downy doctors, preach ; Heaven's mighty cape ; and then revisits Earth That prose of piety, a lukewarm praise?

From the long travel of a thousand years Rise odours sweet from incense uninflam'd ? Thus, at the destin'd period, shall return Devotion, when lukewarm, is undevout;

He, once on Earth, who bids the comet blaze: But when it glows, its heat is struck to Heaven ; And, with him, all our triumph o'er the tonk To human hearts her golden harps are strung; Nature is dumb on this important point; High Heaven's orchestra chaunts amen to man. Or hope precarious in low whisper breathes;

Hear I, or dream I hear, their distant strain, Faith speaks aloud, distinct ; e'en adders hear: Sweet to the soul, and tasting strong of Heaven, But turn, and dart into the dark again. Soft-wafted on celestial pity's plume,

Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of Death, Through the vast spaces of the universe,

To break the shock blind Nature cannot shus, To cheer me in this melancholy gloom ?

And lands thought smoothly on the further shorts Oh when will Death (now stingless), like a friend, Death's terrour is the mountain faith remors Adinit ine of their choir ? O when will Death That mountain barrier between man and peace

T is faith disarms destruction; and absolves Know ye how wise your choice, how great your gain ? from every clamorous charge, the guiltless tomb. Behold the picture of Earth's happiest man:

Why disbelieve? Lorenzo! " Reason bids, “ He calls his wish, it comes ; he sends it back,
All-sacred reason. Hold her sacred still; And says, he call'd another ; that arrives,
Nor shalt thou want a rival in thy flame:

Meets the same welcome; yet he still calls on ; Ill-sacred reason ! source, and soul, of all

Till one calls him, who varies not his call, Demanding praise, on Earth, or Earth above ! But holds him fast, in chains of darkness bound, My heart is thine : deep in its inmost folds, Till Nature dies, and judgment sets him free; Live thou with life ; live dearer of the two.

A freedom far less welcome than his chain." Near I the blessed cross, by fortune stamp'd

But grant man happy; grant him happy long: In passive Nature, before thought was born ? Add to life's highest prize her latest hour; Iy birth's blind bigot ! fir'd with local zeal That hour, so late, is nimble in approach, No! Reason re-baptis'd me when adult;

That, like a post, comes on in full career : Veigh'd true, and false, in her impartial scale; How swift the shuttle flies, that weaves thy shroud! Iy heart became the convert of my head,

Where is the fable of thy former years? Ind made that choice, which once was but my fate. Thrown down the gulf of time; as far from thee On argument alone my faith is built:”

As they had ne'er been thine; the day in hand, leason pursu'd is faith ; and unpursued

Like a bird struggling to get loose, is going ; Vhere proof invites, 't is reason, then, no more: Scarce now possess'd, so suddenly 't is gone; ind such our proof, That, or our faith is right, And each swift moment fled, is death advanc'd Dr Reason lies, and Heaven design'd it wrong : By strides as swift ; Eternity is all ; bsolve we this? What, then, is blasphemy? And whose Eternity? Who triumphs there?

Fond as we are, and justly fond, of faith, Bathing for ever in the font of bliss ! 'eason, we grant, demands our first regard; For ever basking in the Deity! 'he mother bonour'd, as the daughter dear. Lorenzo! who ? — Thy conscience shall reply. eason the root, fair faith is but the flower;

O give it leave to speak; 't will speak ere long, ' he fading flower shall die; but reason lives Thy leave unask'd: Lorenzo ! hear it now, nmortal, as her father in the skies.

While useful its advice, its accent mild. Then faith is virtue, reason makes it so.

By the great edict, the divine decree, rong not the Christian; think not reason yours : Truth is deposited with man's last hour ; s' is reason our great Master holds so dear; An honest hour, and faithful to her trust: [ is reason's injur'd rights his wrath resents; Truth, eldest daughter of the Deity ; Tis reason's voice obey'd his glories crown; Truth, of his council, when he made the worlds; o give lost reason life, he pour'd his own : Nor less, when he shall judge the worlds he made; elieve, and show the reason of a man;

Though silent long, and sleeping ne'er so sound, elieve, and taste the pleasure of a God!

Smother'd with errours, and opprest with toys, elieve, and look with triumph on the tomb : That Heaven-commissioned hour no sooner calls, 'brough reason's wounds alone thy faith can die; But, from her cavern in the soul's abyss, Which dying, tenfold terrour gives to death, Like him they fable under Ætna whelm'd, .nd dips in venom his twice-mortal sting.

The goddess bursts, in thunder, and in flame; Learn hence what honours, what loud peans, due Loudly convinces, and severely pains. o those, who push our antidote aside;

Dark demons I discharge, and hydra stings; 'hose boasted friends to reason,

The keen vibration of bright truth - is Hell: Those fatal love stabs every joy, and leaves Just definition ! though by schools untaught. Death's terrour heighten'd, gnawing on his heart. Ye deaf to truth! peruse this parson'd page, hese pompous sons of reason idoliz'd

And trust, for once, a prophet, and a priest ; nd vilified at once; of reason dead,

“ Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die." "hen deify'd, as monarchs were of old; Vhat conduct plants proud laurels on their brow? Vhile love of truth through all their camp resounds,

NIGHT THE FIFTH.
They draw Pride's curtain o'er the noon-tide ray,
pike up their inch of reason, on the point

THE RELAPSE.
f philosophic wit, calld argument;
And then, exulting in their taper, cry,
Behold the Sun :" and, Indian-like, adore.
Talk they of morals? O thou bleeding Love!

LORENZO! to recriminate is just.
Thou maker of new morals to mankind !

Fondness for fame is avarice of air. The grand morality is love of thee.

I grant the man is vain who writes for praise. Is wise as Socrates, if such they were,

Praise no man e'er deserv’d, who sought no more. Nor will they 'bate of that sublime renown,)

As just thy second charge. I grant the Muse As wise as Socrates, might justly stand

Has often blush'd at her degenerate sons, The definition of a modern fool.

Retain'd by sense to plead her filthy cause;
A Christian is the highest style of man:

To raise the low, to magnify the mean,
And is there, who the blessed cross wipes off, And subtilize the gross into refin'd :
As a foul blot from his dishonour'd brow?

As if to magic numbers' powerful charm
If angels tremble, 't is at such a sight :

’T was given, to make a civet of their song
The wretch they quit, desponding of their charge, Obscene, and sweeten ordure to perfume.
More struck with grief or wonder, who can tell ? Wit, a true pagan, deifies the brute,
Ye sold to sense! ye citizens of Earth!

And lifts our swine-enjoyments from the mire. For such alone the Christian banner fly)

The fact notorious, nor obscure the cause,

and to man,

TO THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF LITCHFIELD.

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