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"Within his hand the nations fhall be weigh'd, "The world upon his infant-fhoulder laid. "His name is WONDERFUL; he fhall be ftil'd "THE GOD OF POWER, the all; embracing child; "Th' imbofom'd fun, whofe inward beam imparts "Wisdom to fouls, THE COUNSELLOR of hearts, "Whose days nor know commencement nor increase; "THE EVERLASTING FATHER, PRINCE OF PEACE! "Your SAVING GOD, in Bethlehem, ye fhall find, "Swath'd in a crib, on humbling straw reclin'd; "He, who all things unites and comprehends, "To ftable with his lowlieft brutes defcends. "Your fongs, your fongs, ye morning ftars employ; "And, all ye fons of glory, fhout for joy!"
Approaching feraphim the babe furround,
And, with adoring rev'rence, bow profound;
Amaz'd to fee their INFINITE Confin'd,
THE ANCIENT OF ALL DAYS in infancy infhrin'd.
With wond'ring eye, they pierce his filmy skin
And lucid flcfh, when, lo, a heaven within,
Wide as the round where yonder planets roll,
Though ftretch'd to infinite from either pole;
Love, to whofe depth no measure can defcend;
And blifs, encircling bleffings, without end.
See the dear, little, helpless, mighty hands,
So meekly yielded to maternal bands!
'Tis theirs the powers of darkness to repel,
To crufh the pride of earth, and hate of hell;
To lift the fall'n, to prop the feeble knee,
To fet the pris'ners of his Ifrael free;
To burft the iron gates of fin and pain,
To number time and death among the flain;
Captive to lead captivity on high,
Follow'd by blood-bought myriads through the sky
His kingdom in eternal peace to found,
And beam forth bleffings without end or bound.
Ye fophifts, who, with fcientific lore,
Nature's reclufe arcana would explore;
Who, in your dreams of fancy, mould and wield
The mazy worlds of yon empyreal field,
And boaft to have retrac'd, by reafon's force,
Th' unmeafur'd chain of fequels to their fource;
Come forward with your length and depth of thought,
And fee all human learning fet at nought:
Here, try to mete, to compafs, to define,
And plumb your GOD with your five-fathom'd line!
Ye mighty too, beneath whose tyrant brow
Pale vaffals fhake, and fervile nations bow,
Perish your pride! and let your glories fade!
Lo, nature's monarch in a manger laid!
Behold, THE WORD, at whofe creative might
The heavens and earth sprung forth to form and light,
In LOVE defcends, unutterably mild,
And smiles the world's falvation-IN A CHILD!
No clarions, yet, proclaim him king of kings; No enfigns fpeak him THE SUPREME of things. Humbly he lays his purple robe afide, Until, for man, it shall in blood be dy'd; Nor fhall the crown his regal brow adorn, Till his love twift it of the pointed thorn!
Ah, FATHER, author, GOD of boundless grace! What, what is man, with all his recreant race, That they with THINE OWN JESUS fhould be weigh'd; And, for their ranfom, fuch a price be paid!
'Tis true, that man from his Creator came All-bright, as from the fun his effluent beam; Lord of these heavens and earth, the feas that flow, The lands that germinate, and ftars that glow: Lovely without, and glorious all within, He knew no forrow, for he knew no fin. His will was with THE FATHER'S will inform'd; His love was with the love of JESUS warm'd; Th' ETERNAL LIGHT, that lights the folar ray, Sheds forth the peace of his diviner day; He felt the blifs of the SUPREMELY BLESS'D, And GOD's own heaven was open'd in his breast.
But ah! he yet was frail, nor understood [GOOD; There's but ONE WILL, ALL-JUST, ALL-WISE, ALLTHE WILL, throughout the universe, who knows, Alone, to MAKE, to FIT, and to DISPOSE: The wretch, who dares a diff'rent will to frame, Brings war into the works of heaven's fupreme; Of power would ev'n omnipotence defraud, And blafts his being in the will of GOD.
Hence, man, fo great, fo glorious, and so good, Was tempted from the tower in which he stood. Lur'd by external baits of fenfual tafte, He wish'd to gratify, he long'd to feast; The good of his fubjected world to know ; Diftinct from God, to win a heaven below;
To found a new dominion of his own,
And reign fufficient to himself alone.
INGRATE!-O ftop thee on the headlong brink!
Ere thou doft take the fearful venture,-think!
Think, from THE GOD thou wishest to forego,
All that thou art, thy blifs and being flow;
And, can the creatures yield thee, should they lift,
More than the fource where thou and they exift ?
Of thy CREATOR if thou art bereft,
Think, to REDEEM, no other COD is left.
He liftens not,th' infernal pow'rs impel:
He long'd, he pluck'd, he tafted,—and he fell.
O, what a fall! a fteep from high to low !
Extremes of blifs, to what extremes of woe!
Plumb, from his heav'n, this second angel fell
Down his own depth, his God-abandon'd hell:
Horror of horrors! darkness and despair!
He look'd for comfort-but no gleam was there!
OLOVE, LOVE, LOVE! ftupendous, wide, and steep!
High o'er all heights, below damnation deep!
In vain the defp'rate rebel would effay,
From thee to tear his being, far away;
Thy faving hand arrests his prone career;
For, to thy prefence, ev'ry place is—here'
For him thou hadst prepar'd a mediate feat,
Meet for his tafte, and fitting to his state;
A feat of fleshly organs, grofs and frail,
To diffolution doom'd, and form'd to fail.
He wakes to a new world, and, with new eyes, Sees unknown elements, and unknown fkies;
The husk and surface of that blefs'd abode,
Where late he dwelt, internal, with his GOD.
He turns his eyes upon his carnal frame,
And fees it, all, a feat of filth and shame;
Fellow'd with brutes, with brutes to take his bed,
Like brutes to propagate, be born, and fed:
But diff'rent, far, the table and the treat;
Earth is their heaven, their home, and native feat;
For brutes, unearn'd, the ready banquet lies,
Apt to their taste, and obvious to their eyes;
But man must wring it from a grudging foil,
And win fcant fuftenance with sweat and toil.
He looks abroad, and fees the new-dropt fawn
Cloath'd without care, and frisking on the lawn;
But finds his own new carcafe bleak and bare,
And shiv'ring in a strange and hostile air.
Yet know, Ŏ man, that all which can betide
From hard-fang'd av'rice, or o'erbearing pride;
That art can compafs from the flood or field,
All that these four-fold elements can yield,
Is barely to afford thee warmth and bread,
Like fellow-brutes to be array'd and fed;
But ah, all, all, incapable, as wind,
To yield one morfel to the famifh'd mind.
This the wretch finds (beguil'd by dev'lish fraud)
The fum of all, for which he left his GOD;
The fum of all the good; he yet was blind
To half the evils that came close behind.
Late, lord of land and water, air and flame,' He wielded, at his will, their cumbrous frame;