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" Nor grudge I, Adam, those fall'n fons of thine, "Fleth of thy flesh, to share a seat with mine, "By him fublim'd into a nobler sphere; "So they flay not their younger brothers, here.

"But, through much grief, this glory must be won; "Flesh, foil'd by fin, by death must be undone; "Muft drop the world, wherein it felt its force, "And, giant-like, rejoic'd to run its course; "Muft drop each organ of its late delight; "Must bid a long adieu to sense and fight, "A long adieu to ev'ry darling luft; "Muft yield its paffive members, duft to duft, "Within the potter's furnace to be fin'd, "And leave its groffnefs, with its guilt, behind.

"Meanfpace, thofe forms of flesh, thofe fons of fin, "Shall ferve to hold my priceless pearls within; "As golden grain within prolific clay, "To shoot and ripen tow'rd a future day.

"Yon maggot, vileft offspring of vile earth, "Answers the genial baseness of his birth: "Lo, where he rolls and battens, with delight, "In filth, to finell offenfive, foul to fight! "Well pleas'd, he drinks the ftench, the dirt devours, "And prides him in the puddle of his powers; "Careless, unconscious of the beauteous guest, "Th' internal speck committed to his breast. "Yet, in his breaft, th' internal fpeck grows warm, "And quickens into motion, life, and form; "Far other form than that its foft'rer bore, High o'er its parent-worm ordain'd to foar:



"The fon, still growing as the fire decays, "In radiant plumes his infant shape arrays;

Matures, as in a foft and filent womb, "Then, opening, peeps from his paternal tomb; "Now, ftruggling, breaks at once into the day, "Tries his young limbs, and bids his wings display, "Expands his lineaments, erects his face, "Rifes fublime o'er all the reptile race; "From new-dropt bloffoms fips the nectar'd stream, "And bafks within the glory of the beam.

"Thus, to a fenfual, to a finful shrine, "The SAVIOUR fhall entrust his speck-divine; "In fecret animate his chofen feed,

"Fill with his love, and with his fubftance feed; "Inform it with fenfations of his own,

"And give it appetites, to flesh unknown. "So fhall the lufts of man's old worm give place, "His fervor languish, and his force decrease; "Till fpoil'd of ev'ry object, gross or vain, "His pride and paffions humbled, crush'd, and flain; "From a falfe world to his firft kingdom won, "His will, and fin, and fenfe, and felf undone; "His inward man from death shall break away, "And foar, and mingle with eternal day!"

This (in a word) THE FATHER spoke and streight
THE SON defcended from above all height,
Upon the chaos of man's world he came,

And pierc'd the darkness with his living beam;
Then caft a rein on the reluctant will,
And bid the tempeft of the foul be still.

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The good from evil he did then divide, And fet man's darkness from GOD's light afide : Wide, from the heart, he bids his will be done, And there plac'd CONSCIENCE as a central fun; Whence REASON, like the moon, derives, by night, A weak, a borrow'd, and a dubious light. But, down the foul's abyss, a region dire! He caus'd the Stygian horrors to retire; From whence afcends the gloom of many a peft, Dark'ning the beam of heaven within the breast; Atrocious intimations, causeless care, Diftruft, and hate, and rancour, and despair.

As in creation, when THE WORD gave birth
To ev'ry offspring of the teeming earth,
He now conceiv'd high fruits of happier use,
And bid the heart and head of man produce:
Then branch'd the pregnant will, and went abroad
In all the sweets of its internal GOD;

In ev'ry mode of LOVE, a fragrant throng,
Bearing the heart-fent charities along;

Divine effufions of the human breast,

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Within the very act of bleffing, bleft;
Defires that press another's weight to bear,
To foothe their anguish, to partake their care;
Pains that can please, and griefs that joys excite;
Bruises that balm, and tears that drop delight.
GOD faw the feed was precious; and began
To blefs his oWN REDEEMING WORK, in man.
Nor lefs, the pregnant region of the mind
Brought forth conceptions suited to its kind;

Faint emblems, yet of virtue to proclaim
That PARENT-SPIRIT, whence our spirits came;
Spirits that, like their GOD, with mimic skill,
Produce new forms and images at will;

Thoughts that from earth, with wing'd emotion, foar,
New tracts expatiate, and new worlds explore;
Backward, through space and through duration, run,
Paffing the bounds of all that e'er begun ;
Then, as a glance of light'ning, forward flee,
Straining to reach at all that e'er fhall be.

Thus, in the womb of man's abyfs are sown
Natures, worlds, wonders, to himself unknown.
A comprehenfive, a myfterious plan

Of all th' almighty works of GOD, is man;
From hell's dire depth to heaven's fupremeft height,
Including good and evil, dark and light..
What shall we call this fon of grace and fin,

This dæmon, this divinity within,

This flame eternal, this foul mould'ring clod-
A fiend, or SERAPH-A poor worm, or GOD?

O, the fell conflict, the intestine ftrife,
This clash of good and evil, death and life!
What, what are all the wars of fea and wind,
Or wreck of matter, to this war of mind?
Two minds in one, and each a truceless guest,
Rending the sphere of our distracted breast?
Who fhall deliver, in a fight fo fell;
Who fave from this inteftine dog of hell?
GOD! thou haft faid, that nature fhall decay,
And all yon ftarr'd expanfion pafs away:
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That, in thy wrath, pollution shall expire,
The fun himself confume with hotter fire;'
The melting earth forfake its form and face,
These elements depart, but find no place;
Succeeded by a peaceful bless'd ferene,
New heavens and earth, wherein the just shall reign.
O then, upon the fame BENIGNANT PLAN,
Sap, crush, consume this mass of ill, in man!
Within this tranfient frame of mould'ring clay,
Let death's, cerberean dæmon have his day;
Let him tear off this world, the nurse of luft,
Grind flesh, and fense, and fin, and self, to duft:
In mind and matter, fave WHATE'ER IS THINE!
O'er time, and pain, and death, to be renew'd;
Fill'd with our GOD, and with our GOD indu'd!


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'HY hang thy hopes on beauty's fading flower, The blooming offspring of fome genial shower? To-day it buds to-morrow's dawning fun, With rifing wonder, views its bloffoms gone. E'en fo those charms which now create defire, Ere long must wither, languifh, and expire; With those less fair, receive one common doom, And wafte their luftre in the filent tomb.


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