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That Cause, from whence all beings else arose, : She labour'd hard; but still the more he wrought,
Mult self-existent be alone;

The more was wilder'd in the maze of thought.
Intirely perfect, and but one;

Sometimes she fancy'd things to be
Nor equal nor superior knows :

Coeval with the Deity, Two firsts, in reason, we can ne'er suppose.

And in the form which now they are If that, in false opinion, we allow,

From everlasting ages were.
That once there absolutely nothing was,

Sometimes the casual event,
Then nothing could be now.

Of atoms floating in a space immense,
For, by what inftrument, or how,

Void of all wisdom, rule, and senfe; Shall non-existence to existence pass?

But, by a lucky accident, Thus, something must from everlasting be;

Jumbled into this scheme of wondrous excellence. Or matter, or a Deity.

'Twas an establish's article of old, If matter only uncreate we grant,

Chief of the philosophic creed, We shall volition, wit, and reason, want ;

And does in natural productions bold; An agent infinite, and action free;

That from mere nothing, nothing could proceed; Whence does volition, whence does reason, Aow?

Material substance never could have rose, How came we to reflect, design, and know?

If some existence had not been before, This from a nobler nature fprings,

In wisdom infinite, immense in power. Diftinct in effence from material things :

Whate'er is made, a maker muit suppose, For, thoughtless matter cannot thought bestow, As an effect a cause that could produce it thews. But, if we own a God supreme,

Nature and art, indeed, have bounds allign'd, And all perfection 's possible in him ;

And only forms to things, not being, give; In him does boundless excellence reside,

That from Omnipotence they must receive; Power to create, and providence to guide;

But the eternal felf-existent mind Unmade himself, could no beginning have,

Can, with a single Fiat, cause to be But to all substance prime existence give :

All that the wondrous eye furveys,
Can what he will destroy, and what he plcases fave.

And all it cannot fee.

Nature may fhape a beauteous tree,

And art a noble palace raise,
The undefigning hand of giddy Chance

But must not to creative power afpirc;
Could never fill the globes of light,

But their God alone can claim,
So beautiful, and so amazing bright,

As pre-existing substance doch require :
The lofty concave of the vast expanse:
These could proceed from no less power than infinite. So, where they nothing find, can nothing framo.
There 's not one atom of this wondrous frame,

Nor essence intellectual, but took
Existence when the great Creator spoke,

Matter produc'd, had till a chaos been:
And from the common womb of empty nothing came. For jarring elements engig'd,
Let substance be, he cry'd; and straight arose

Eternal battles would have wig'd,
Angelic, and corporeal too;

And fill'd with endless horror the tumultuous scene;
All that material nature shows,

If wisdom infinite, for less
And what does things invisible compore,

Cowd not the vast prodigious embryo wield,
At the same instant sprung, and into being flew :

Or itrength complea to labouring Nature yield,
Mount to the convex of the highest sphere,

Had not, with actual address,
Which draws a mighty circle round

Compos'd the bellowing huriy, and establish'd peace,
Th’inferior orbs, as their capacious bound;

Whate'er this visible creation shows
There millions of new miracles appear:

That's lovely, uniform, and bright,
There dwell the eldest sons of power immense, That gilds the morning, or adorns the night,
Who first were to perfe&tion wrought

To her its eruinence and beauty owes.
First to complete existence brought,

By her all creatores have their ends affign'd,
To whom their Maker did dispense

Proportion'd to their nature, and their kind; The largest portions of created excellence,

To which they ftcadily advance,
Eternal now, not of necesiity,

Mov'd by right Reason's high command,
as if they could not ccafe tobe,

Or guided by the fecret hand
Or were from possible destruction free;

Of real instinct, or imaginary chance.
But on the will of God depend :

Nothing but men reject her facred rules;
For that which could begin, can end.

Who from the end of their creation fly,
Who, when the lower worlds were made,

And deviate into misery;
Without the least miscarriage or defect,

As if the liber to act like fools
By the almighty Architect,

Were the chief cause that Heaven made them free.
United adoration paid,
And with extatic gratitude his laws obey'd,


Bold is the wretch, and blasphemous the man, Philosophy of old in vain esitay'd

Who, finite, will attempt to scan
To tell us how this mighty frame.

The works of him that 's infinitely wise,
Into such beaute Hi 3 order came;

And those he cannot comprehend, denies; But, by false reasonings, fulle foundations lạid : As if a space iminense were measurable by a span.


Thus the proud sceptic will not own


in the strength and vigour of bis yezes, That Providence the world directs,

The feeble bark of life he lives,
Or its affairs infpects ;

Amidst the fury of tempestuous waves,
But leaves it to itself alone.

From all the dangers he foresees, or fexs; How does it with almighty grandeur suit, Yet every hour 'twixt Scylla and Charybdis fteers To be concern'd with our impertinence;

If Providence which can the feas command, Or interpose his power for the defence

Held not the rudder with a steady hand.
Of a poor mortal, or a senseless brute?
Villains could never so successful prove,

And unmolested in those pleasures live,

*r'is happy for the fons of men, that he, Which honor, ease, and aMuence give;

Who all existence out of nothing made,
While such as Heaven adore, and virtue love,
And most the care of providence deserve,

Supports his creatures by immediate aid:

But then this all-intending Deity
Oppressd with pain and ignominy starve.
What reason can the wiseft thew,

Must Omnipresent be:
Why murder does unpunish'd go,

For how shall we by demonstration thew

The Godhead is this moment here,
If the Moft High, that's just and good,
Intends and governs all below,

If he 's not present every where,

And always so? And yet regards not the loud cries of guiltless blood ?

What's not perceptible to sense, may be But thall we things unfearchable deny, Because our reason cannot tell us why

Ten thousand miles remote from x,

Unless his nature is from limitation free. They are allow'd, or acted by the Deity?"

In vain we for protection pray; 'Tis equally above the reach of thought,

For benefits receiv'd high altars raise,
To comprehend how matter should be brought

And offer up our hymns and prais;
From nothing, as existent be
From all eternity;

In vain his anger dread, or laws obey.
And yet that matter is, we feel and fee;

An absent god from ruin can defend
Nor is it eafier to define,

No more than can an abfent friend; What ligatures the soul and body join;

No more is capable to know

How gratefully we make retums, Or, how the memory does th' impreslion take

When the loud muhe founds, or vi&tim burbs, Of things, and to the mind reftores them back.

Than a poor Indian Nave of Mexico. Did not th' Almighty, with immediate care, Direct and govern this capacious all,

If so, 'tis equally in vain How soon would things into confusion fall!

The prosperous fings, and wretched mourne;

He cannot hear the praise, or mitigate the pzia. Earthquakes the trembling ground would tear,

But by what Being is confin'd And blizing comets rule the troubled air;

The Godhead we adore ?
Wide inundations, with reliftlefs force,

He must have equal or fuperior power.
The lower provinces o’erflow,
In spite of all that human trength could do

If equal only, they each other bind, 'To stop the raging sea's impctuous course :

So neither 's God, if we define him right,

For neither's infinite.
Murder and rapine every place would fill,

But if the other have fuperior might
And linking virtue stoop to prosperous ill;
Devouring pestilence rave,

Then he, we worship, can't pretend to be And all that part of nature which has breath

Omnipotent, and free

From all restraint, and fo no Deity. Deliver to the tyranny of death,

If God is limited in space; his view, And hurry to the dungeons of the grave,

His knowledge, power, and wisdom, is so too: If watchful Providence were not concern'd to save.

Unless we 'll own, that these perfections are Let the brave speak, who oft hias been

At all times present every where, In dreadful fieges, and fierce battles seen,

Yet he himself not actually there. How he's preservd, when bombs and bullets fly

Which to fuppofe, that strange conclufion brings, So thick, that scarce one inch of air is free;

His essence and his attributes are different things.
And though he does ten thousand see
Fall at his feet, and in a moment die,

Unhurt retreats, or gains unhurt the victory.
Let the poor shipwreck'd sailor Thew,

AS the supreme, omniscient mind, To what invisible protecting power

Is by no boundaries confin'd;
He did his life and safety owe,

So Reason must acknowledge him to be
When the loud storm his well-built vessel tore,

From possible mutation free :
And a half-shatter'd plank convey'd him to the fhore. For what He is, He was from all eternity.
Nay, let th' ungrateful sceptic tell us how

Change, whether the effect of force of vill, His tender infancy protection found,

Must argue imperfection fill.
And helpless childhood was with safety crown'd, But imperfection in a Deity,
If he 'll no Providence allow;

That 's absolutely perfect, cannot be:
When he had nothing but his nurse's arms

Who can compel, without his own conler, To guard him from innumerable fatal harms :

A God to change that is omnipotent?
From childhood how to youth he ran

And every alteration without force,
Securely, and from thence to man;

Is for the better or the wore.

He that is infinitely wise,

They shall ten thoufand ages laft: To alter for the worse will never choose,

Ten thousand, more, perhaps, when they are past; That a depravity of nature shews:

But not eternal in a literal sense :
And he, in whom all true perfection lies, Yet own the pleasures of the just remain
Cannot by change to greater excellencies rise. So long as there's a God exifts to reign.

If God be mutable, which way, or how, Though none can give a solid reason, why
Shall we demonstrate, that will please him now, The word Eternity,
Which did a thousand years ago ?

To heaven and hell indifferent join'd,
And 't is impossible to know,

Should carry sense of a different kind;
What He forbids, or what He will allow. And 't is a sad experiment to try.
Murder, inchantment, luft, and perjury,
Did in the foremost rank of vices stand,

Prohibited by an express command :

But if there be one attribute divine
But whether such they still remain to be, With greater lustre than the rest can thine,
No argument will politively prove,

'T is goodness, which we every moment loc Without immediate notice from above;

The godhead exercise with such delight,
If the Almighty legislator can

It seems, it only seems, to be
Be chang'd, like his inconstant subject, man, The best-belov'd perfection of the Deity,
Uncertain thus what to perform or thun,

And more than infinite.
We all intolerable hazards run,

Without that, he could never prove When an eternal stake is to be lost or won.

The proper objects of our praise or love,

Were he not good, he'd be no more concern'd

To hear the wretched in affliction cry,

Or fee the guiltless for the guilty die,
Rejoice, ye fons of piety, and smg

Than Nero, when the flaming ciiy burn'd,
Loud Hallelujahs to his glorious name,

And wecping Romans o'er its ruins mourn'd. Who was, and will for ever be the same:

Eternal justice then would be, Your grateful incenfe to his temples bring,

But everlasting cruelty; That from the smoking altars may arise

Power unrestrain'd, almighty violence ; Clouds of perfumes to the imperial skies.

And wisdom unconfin'd, but craft immense. His promises stand firm to you,

'T is goodness constitutes him that he is; And endless joys will be beítow'd,

And those As fure as that there is a God,

Who will deny him this, On all who virtue choose, and righteous paths pursue. A god without a deity suppose. Nor should we more his menaces distrust,

When the lewd atheist blasphemously swears, For while he is a Deity he must

By his tremendous name (As infinitely good) be infinitely just.

There is no god, but all's a sham; But does it with a gracious godhcad suit,

Insipid tattle, praise, and prayers, Whose Mercy is his darling attribute,

Virtue, pretence; and all the facred rules To punish crimes tirat temporary be,

Religion teaches, tricks to cully fools : And those but trivial offences too,

Justice would strike th' audacious villain dead, Mere Nips of human nature, small and few',

But mercy, boundless, faves his guilty head; With everlasting misery?

Gives him protection, and allows him bread. This shocks the mind with deep reflections fraught, Does not the finner whom no danger awes,

And Reason bends beneath the ponderous thought; Without restraint, his infamy pursus, Crimes take their estimate from guilt, and grow

Rejoice, and glory in it too; More heinous ftill, the more they do incense

Laugh at the power divine, and ridicule his laws;
That God to whom all creatures owe

Labour in vice his rivals to •scel,
Profoundeft reverence :

That, when he's dead, they may their pupils tell
Though as to that degrec they raise

How wittily the fool was damn'd, how hard he fell? The anger of the merciful Most High,

Yet this vile wretch in safety lives, We have no standard to discern it by,

Bleffings in common with the beft receives; But the inftition he on the offender lays.

Though he is proud t'affront the God those bleflings So that if endless punishment on all

gives. Our unrepented sins must fail,

The chearful fun his influence spreads on all; None, not the least, can be accounted small.

Has no respect to good or evil : That God is in perfection just, must be

And fruitful showers without diftinction fall, Allow'd by all that own a Deky:

Which fields with corn, with grass the pastures, fill. If so, from equity he cannot swerve,

The bounteous hand of Heaven bestows Nor punish finners more than they deferve.

Success and honour many times on those
His will reveald, is both express and clear ;

Who fcorn his favourites, and caress his foes.
“ Ye cursed of my Father, go
Il To everlasting woe.”

To this good God, whom my adventurous pen
If everlasting means eternal here,

Has dar'd to celebrate Daration absolutely without end;

In lofty Pindar's train; Against which sense some zealously contend,

Though with uncqual strength to bear the weight That when applied to pains, it only means,

Of such a ponderous theme fo infinitely great:


To this good God, celestial spirits pay,
With extacy divine, inceffant praile:
While on the glories of his face they gaze,
In the bright regions of eternal day.

To him each rational existence here,
Whofe breast one spark of gratitude contains,
In whom there are the least remains

Of piety or fear,
His tribute brings of joyful facrifice,
For pardon prays, and for protection flies :
Nay, the inanimate creation give,

By prompt obedience to his word,

Instinctive honour to their lord; And shame the thinking world, who in rebellion live. With Heaven and earth then, O my soul, unite, And the great God of both adore and bless, Who gives tree competence, content, and peace ; The only fountains of sincere delight: That from the transitory joys below, Thou by a happy exit may'st remove

To those inettable above; Which from the vifion of the godhcad now, And neither end, decrearc, nor interruption know.

Ah! where's the house of the Eternal King;
The beauteous temple of the Lord of Hofts,
To whose large treasuries our fleet did bring
The gold and jewels of remoteft coafts ?
There had the infinite Creator plae'd

His terrible, amazing nime,
And with his more peculiar presence grac'd
That heavenly sanctum, where no mortal came,
The high-priest only; he but once a year
In that divine apartment might appear :
So full of glory, and so sacred then,
But now corrupted with the heaps of lain,
Which scatter'd round with blood, defile the mighty

fane. Alas, Jerusalem! each spacious street

Was once fo fill'd, the numerous throng Was forc'd to joftle as they pass'd along,

And thousands did with thousands meet; The darling then of God, and man's belor'd retet. In thee was the bright throne of justice fix'd, Justice impartial, and vain fraud unmix'd! She scorn'd the beauties of fallacious gold,

Despising the most wealthy bribes;

But did the sacred balance hold
With god-like faith to all our happy tribes.
Thy well-built streets, and every noble Square,

Were once with polih'd marble laid,

And all his lofty bulwarks made
With wondrous labour, and with artful care.
Th: ponderous gates, furprizing to behold,

Were cover*d o'er with folid gold;
Whofe splendor did fo glorious appear,

It ravish'd and amaz'd the eye ;-
And strangers paffing, to themselves svould cry,

What mighty heaps of wealth are here !
How thick the bars of masly filver lie!
O happy people ! and till happy be,
Celestial city! from destruction free,
May't thou enjoy a long, entire prosperity!



Paraphrased out of Josephus. A

Thy prilline glory, thy unmatch'd renown,
To which the heathen monarchies did bow?

Ah, hapless, miserable town!
Where's all thy majefty, thy beauty gone,

Thou once most noble, celebrated place,
The joy and the delight of all the earth ;

Who gav'ft to godlike princes birth,
And bred up heroes, an immortal race ?
Where's now the vast magnificence, which made

The souls of foreigners adore

Thy wondrous brightness, which no more
Shall shine, but lie in an eternal shade!
Oh misery! where 's all her mighty state,

Her fplendid train of numerous kings,
Her noble edific, noble things,
Which made her seem so eminently great,
That barbarous princes in her gates appear'd,
And wealthy presents, as their tribute, brought,
To court her friendihip? For her strength they fear'd,
And all her wide protection sought.

But now, ah! now they laugh and cry,

See how her lofty buildings lic!
Sec how her faming turre: gild the sky!,

B:ut now, oh wretched, wretched place !

Thy streets and palaces are spread With heaps of carcases, 'and mountains of the deal,

The bleeding relics of the Jewith race!
Each corner of the town, no vacant space,

But is with breathless bodies fill'd,
Some by the sword, and fome by famine, killd,
Natives and strangers are together laid:

Death's arrows all at random flew
Among the crowd, and no distinction made,
But both the coward and the valiant New.

All in one dismal ruin join'd,

(For swords and peftilence are blind) The fair, the good, the brave, no mercy

find: Those that from far, with joyful hafte, Came to attend thy festival,

Of the same bitter poison taste,
And by the black, destructive poifon fall;
For the avenging sentence pafs'd on all.
Oh! see how the delight of human eyes

Ir borrid defolation lies !

See how the burning ruins flame!
Nothing now left, but a fad, empty name!

And the triumphant vi&tor cries,
This was the fam'd Jetufilem !


Where's all the young, the valian, and the gay, That on her festivals were us'd to play Harmonious funes, and beautify the day?

The glittering troops, which did from far, Bring home the trophies, and the spoils of war, Whom all the nations round with terror vicw'd,

Nor durft their godlike valour try? Where'er they fought, they certainly subdued, And every combat gain'd a victory.


And you may Navishly preserve your breath, Or seek for freedom in the arms of death.

Thus then resolve ; nor tremble at the thought :

Can glory be too dearly bought ?
Since the Almighty wisdom has decreed,
That we, and all our progeny, should bleed,
It shall be after such a noble way,
Succeeding nges will with wonder view

What brave despair compellid us to !
No, we will ne'er survive another day !

Bring then your wives, your children, all
That's valuable, good or dear,

With ready hands, and place them here ;
They shall unite in one vast funeral.
I know your courages are truly brave,

And dare do any thing but ill :

Who would an aged father save,
That he may live in chains and be a flave,
Or for remorseless enemies to kill ?
Let your bold hands then give the fatal blow :
For, what at any other time would be
The dire effect of rage and cruelty,
Is mercy, tenderness, and pity, now!
This then perform'd, we 'll to the battle fly,
And there, amidst our Naughter'd foes, expire.
If 't is revenge and glory you desire,
Now you may have them, if you dare but die !
Nay, more, ev'n freedom and eternity!



The most obdurate creature must
Be griev'd to see thy palaces in duft,
Those antient habitations of the just:

And could the marble rocks but know
The miseries of thy fatal overthrow,
They 'd strive to find some fecret way unknown,
Maugre the senseless nature of the stone,

Their pity and concern to shew :
For now, where lofty buildings food,
Thy fons corrupted carcases are laid :

And all by this destruction made
One common Golgotha, one field of blood !
See! how those ancient men, who rul'd thy state,

And made thee happy, made thee great ;

Who sat upon the awful chair
Of mighty Mores, in long scarlet clad,
The good to cherish, and chastise the bad,

Now fit in the corrupted air,
In silent melancholy, and in sad despair !
See how their murder'd children round them lie!

Ah, dismal scene! hark how they cry!

Woe! woe! one beam of mercy give, Good Heaven! alas, for we would live! Be pitiful, and suffer us to die!

Thus they lament, thus beg for ease; While in their feeble, aged arms they hold The bodies of their offspring, stiff and cold, To guard them from the ravenous savages : Till their increasing forrows death persuade

(For death must sure with pity fee The horrid desolation he has made) To put a period to all their misery.

Thy wretched daughters that survive,
Are by the heathen kept alive,
Only to gratify their luft,

And then be mix'd with common dud.
Oh! insupportable, stupendous woe!
What shall we do? ah! whither Mall we go?
Down to the grave, down to those happy thades below,
Where all our brave progenitors are blest
With endless triumph and eternal rest.

But who, without a flood of tears, can see

Thy mournful, sad catastrophe ?
Who can behold thy glorious temple lie
In alhes, and not be in pain to die?
Unhappy, dear Jerusalem! thy woes
Have rais'd my griefs to such a vast excess,

Their mighty weight no mortal knows,
Thought cannot comprehend, or words express,
Nor can they poffibiy, while I survive, be less.

Good Heaven had been cxtremely kind,
If it had itruck me dead, or struck me blind,
Before this cursed time, this worst of days.
Is death quite tir'd ? are all his arrows spent ?
If not, why then so many dull delays ?
Quick, quick, let the obliging dart be sent !
Nay, at me only let ten thousand Ay,
Whoe'er Shall wretchedly survive; that I

May, happily, be sure to die.
Yet ftill we live, live in excess of pain!

Our friends and relatives are fain!

Nothing but ruins round us see,
Nothing but defolation, woe, and misery!
Nay, while we thus, with bleeding hearts, complain,

Our enemies without prepare
Their direful engines to pursue the war ;


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INCE we can die but once, and after death

Our state no alteration knows;
But, when we have resign'd our breath,

Th’immortal spirit goes
To endless joys, or everlasting woes :
Wire is the man who labours to secure

That mighty and important stake;

And, by all methods, strive to make His passage safe, and his reception sure. Merely to die, no man of reason fears ;

For certainly we must,

As we are born, return to dust : 'T is the last point of many lingering years ;

But whither then we go,

Whither, we fain would know; But human understanding cannot hew.

This makes us tremble, and creates

Strange apprehensions in the mind;
Fills it with restless doubts, and wild debates,
Concerning what we, living, cannot find.

None know what death is, but the dead;
Therefore we all, by nature, dying dread,
As a strange, doubtful way, we know not how to tread.

When to the margin of the grave we come, And scarce have one black, painful hour to live ;

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