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But claim fuperior lineage by my SIRE,
Who warm'd th' unthinking cold with heavenly fire:
With look erect, I dart my longing eye,
Seem wing'd to part, and gain my native sky;
Ty'd to this maffy globe with magic chain.
The tow'ring lark thus from her lofty ftrain,
To blifs unknown my lofty foul afpires,
As 'mongst the hinds a child of royal birth
Around me, lo, the thinking thoughtless crew, Bewilder'd each, their diff'rent paths pursue; Of them I ask the way; the first replies, Thou art a God; and fends me to the skies. Down on this turf (the next) thou two-legg'd beast, There fix thy lot, thy blifs, and endless reft: Between these wide extreams the length is fuch, I find I know too little or too much.
"Almighty power, by whose most wife command, "Helpless, forlorn, uncertain here I ftand; "Take this faint glimmering of thyself away, "Or break into my foul with perfect day!"
This faid, expanded lay the facred text,
The balm, the light, the guide of fouls perplex'd: Thus the benighted traveller who strays Through doubtful paths, enjoys the morning rays; The nightly. mift, and thick defcending dew, Parting, unfold the fields, and vaulted blue. "O truth divine! enlighten'd by thy ray, "I grope and guefs no more, but see my way; "Thou clear'dft the fecret of my high defcent, "And told me what those myftic tokens meant; "Marks of my birth, which I had worn in vain "Too hard for worldly fages to explain; "ZENO's were vain, vain EPICURUS' fchemes, "Their fyftems falfe, delufive were their dreams; "Unfkill'd by two-fold nature to divide, "One nurs'd by pleasure, and one nurs'd by pride: "Those jarring truths which human art beguile, ' Thy facred page thus bids me reconcile." Offspring of God, no lefs thy pedigree, What thou once waft, art now, and still may be, Thy God alone can tell, alone decree : Faultlefs thou dropt from his unerring skill, With the bare power to fin, fince free of will: Yet charge not with thy guilt, his bounteous love, For who has power to walk, has power to rove: Who acts by force impell'd, can nought deserve; And wisdom short of infinite, may fwerve. Borneon thy new-imp'd wings, thou took'ft thy flight, Left thy Creator, and the realms of light:
Disdain'd his gentle precept to fulfil,
And brute enough to make thy fearch in vain.
BY THE REV, MR. FITZGERALD.
HERE proud Augufta, bleft with long repofe, Her ancient wall and ruin'd bulwark shows; Close by a verdant plain, with graceful height A ftately fabric rifes to the fight. Yet though its parts all elegantly shine, And sweet proportion crowns the whole defign; Though art, in ftrong expreffive sculpture shown, Confummate art informs the breathing stone; Far other views than these within appear, And woe and horror dwell for ever here. For ever from the echoing roofs rebounds A dreadful din of heterogeneous founds; From this, from that, from every quarter rife Loud fhouts, and fullen groans, and doleful cries; Heart-foft'ning plaints demand the pitying tear, And peals of hideous laughter fhock the ear.
Thus, when in fome fair human form we find The lufts all rampant, and the reason blind, Griev'd we behold fuch beauty given in vain, And nature's faireft work furvey with pain.
Within the chambers which this dome contains, In all her frantic forms diftraction reigns. For when the fense from various objects brings, Through organs craz'd, the images of things;