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Soon as unwelcome night begins its fway,
And throws its fable mantle o'er the day;
The withering glories of the garden fade,
And weeping groves bewail their lonely shade;
To melancholy filence men retire,

And no fweet note founds from the feather'd choir:
But hardly can the rifing morn difplay
The purple enfigns of approaching day,
But the glad gardens deck themselves anew,
And groves refresh'd shake off their heavy dew:
To daily labor man himself devotes,

And birds in anthems ftrain their little throats.
So without THEE, I grieve, I pine, I mourn;
So triumph, fo revive, at thy return.
But THOU, unkind, bid'ft me delight my eyes
With other beauties, other rarities.
Sometimes thou bid'ft me mark the flow'ry field,
What various scent and fhews the meadows yield;
Then to the STARS thou doft direct my fight,
For they from THINE derive their borrow'd light.
Then fay'ft, contemplate MAN! in him thou'lt fee
The great refemblance of thy LOVE and ME.
Why would'ft thou thus deceive me with a fhade,
A trifling image, that will quickly fade?
My fancy stoops not to a mortal aim,
Thou, thou haft kindled, and muft quench my flame.
O glorious face, worthy a power divine,
Where love and awe with equal mixture fhine!
Triumphant majefty of that bright ray
Where blushing angels proftrate homage pay


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We in thy works thy fix'd impreffions trace,
Yet ftill but faint reflections of thy face.
When this inchanted world's compar'd with thee,
Its boafted beauty's all deformity:

The truth of this the fages beft declare,
Who on the mount thy blest spectators were:
Thy fhining vifage all the God confest,
And lambent flames thy facred temples dreft.

Nor can we blame thy great apoftle's zeal,
To whom thou did'ft that pleafing fight reveal;
Who, flighting all before accounted dear,
Was ftraight for building tabernacles there.
Yet he beheld thee clouded with a veil,
The killing rays thou kindly did'st conceal :
He faw a milder flame thy face furround,
And all thy glories with lefs glory crown'd:
As when the filver moon's reflected beam,
In some clear evening gilds the smiling stream:
Or cloud-born lightning in its nimble race
Paints on a trembling wave its blushing face.

Oh! when fhall I behold thee all ferene,
Without one envious cloud to intervene ?
When will that happy day of vifion be,
When I fhall near approach, great God, to thee?
When diftant faith fhall in near vifion cease,
And with my fight my fervent love increase?
That happy day, dear as thefe eyes shall be,
And more than all the dearest things, but THEE.
'Tis true, the facred elements impart
Thy virtual prefence to my faithful heart;

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This, tho' a great, is an imperfect bliss,
T'embrace a cloud for the bright God I wish
To nobler joys my longing foul would fly,
And view thee in the heights of majesty.





AIL, wedded love! by gracious GOD defign'd
At once the fource and glory of mankind!
'Tis this, can toil and grief and pain affuage,
Secure our youth, and dignify our age;

'Tis this, fair fame and guiltless pleasure brings,
And shakes rich plenty from its brooding wings;
Gilds duty's roughest paths with friendship's ray,
And ftrews with roses sweet the narrow way.
Not fo the harlot-if it lawful be
To mention vice, when praising chastity-
Not fo the harlot plights her venal vow,
With heart obdurate, and Corinthian brow,
She fawns unfriendly, practis'd to beguile,

Stings while fhe weeps, and murders in a smile.
Fame, peace, and virtue, she at once destroys,
And damns, moft furely, whom fhe most enjoys.


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ASTE, my bright fun! hafte from my dazzl'd Too weak to bear thy too refulgent light: [fight, How does my tongue my love-fick foul betray? THis bids him fly, whom THAT would beg to stay, Why should I then his absence thus engage, The grant will make one tedious hour an age? Yet his too beauteous beams forbid his stay; Fly then, my Love, or lay thofe beams away! Hadft thou on me this harsh injunction laid, The killing found at once had ftruck me dead : But thy own flame, not mine, would have it so, I fhould be ages in pronouncing GO!

I would not wish what now I do intreat;

Then stay, and let me not perfuade thee yet!
Stay, ftay my Life, and turn the deafen'd ear!
Sure what I would not speak, thou should'ft not hear.
Hence let the wind my feign'd petition bear!
'Twas urgent fear, that form'd the hafty pray'r.
Yet oh! this melting heat forbids thy stay;
Fly, fly, my Love, I burn if thou delay.


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Oh let thy hafte outftrip the hunted hind;

But that's too flow; fly like the swifter wind!


Fly till thou leav'ft ev'n flagging thought behind
Yet in thy flight a longing look bestow,

A parting glance, that speaks thee loth to go.
When that is done, renew thy speed away;


Fly, fly, my Love, there's death if thou delay!
Behold thofe lofty fky-faluting hills,

Where rich perfume from weeping trees diftills!
Where laurels, cedars, and foft myrtles grow,
And all the fpice Arabia can bestow:
To their high tops direct thy nimble flight,
Till thou, like them, art vanish'd from my fight!
Fly to the heights where raptur'd feraphs sing,
And smiling cherubs exercise their wing!
Fly till the stars appear as much below
Thy humble station, as above it now!
Those places are inur'd to heat and fire,
And what I dread, is what they most desire.
One fpark's fufficient to inflame my foul;
Impart a ray, nor once tranfmit the whole.

Then let thy hafte the hunted hind out go,
And yet, methinks, thou should'ft not leave me fo!
Fly where thou may'st with pleasure oft look back,
Nor from my fight too far a journey take:
Keep fuch a distance as yon glorious fun,
When most he lights and gilds the paler moon!
But oh! the treach'ry of my foul forgive!
I cannot with thee, nor without thee, live.


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