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If e'er disbanded !"-He, whose potent word, O what a genius must inform the skies!
Or blows you, or forbears : assist my song;
And is Lorenzo a demurrer still?
Truths, which, contested, pal thy parts to shame.
Fillid with an atom! fillid, and soul'd, with self! Nor longer rob them of their noblest name.
And self-mistaken! self, that lasts an hour!
Instincts and passions, of the nobler kind,
Reason apart, would wake bigtı hope; and open, Since that authentic, radiant register,
To ravish'd thought, that intellectual sphere,
And promise all the truly-great desire.
The mind that would be happy, must be great ; My trembling heart to wisdom ; now beyond Great, in its wishes ; great, in its surveys; All shadow of excuse for fooling on.
Extended views a narrow mind extend; Age smoothes our path to prudence! sweeps aside Push out its corrugate, expansive make, The snares keen appetite and passion spread Which, ere long, more than planets shall embrace To catch stray souls; and woe to that grey head, A man of compass makes a man of worth; Whose folly would undo what age has done! Divine contemplate, and become divine. Aid then, aid, all ye stars !--Much rather, thou, As man was made for glory, and for bliss, Great Artist! thou, whose finger set aright All littleness is in approach to woe; This exquisite machine, with all its wheels,
Open thy bosom, set thy wishes wide, Though intervolvid, exact; and pointing out And let in manhood ; let in happiness ; Life's rapid and irrevocable Might,
Admit the boundless theatre of thougit With such an inder fair as none can miss,
From nothing, up to God; which makes a man. Who lifts an eye, nor sleeps till it is clos'd; Take God from Nature, nothing great is left! Open mine eye, dread Deity! to read
Man's mind is in a pit, and nothing sees; The tacit doctrine of thy works; to see
Man's heart is in a jakes, and loves the mire. Things as they are, unalter'd through the glass Emerge from thy profound; erect ihine eye; Of worldly wishes. Time, eternily!
See thy distress! how close art thou besiega! ("Tis these, mis
measur'd, ruin all mankind) Besieg'd by Nature, the proud sceptic's foe!
As in a golden net of Providence.
How art thou caught, sure captive of belief! Turn on my soul, and strike it into Heaven. From this thy blest captivity', what art, When shall I see far more than charms me now? What blasphemy to reason, sets thee free? Gaze on creation's model in thy breast
This scene is Heaven's indulgeni violence: Unveil'd, nor wonder at the transcript more? Canst thou hear up against this vide of glory? When this vile, foreign dust, which smothers all What is earth bosom'd in these ambient orbs, That travel Earth's deep vale, shall I shake off? But, faith in God impos'd, and press'd on man When shall my soul her incarnation quit,
Darist thou still litigate thy desperate cause, And, readopted to thy blest embrace,
Spite of these numerous, awful witnesses, Obtain her apotheosis in thee?
And doubt the deposition of the skies?
Laborious ! 'tis impracticable quite ;
And crime flagitious, I defy a fool.
Some wish they did ; but no man disbelieves
God is a spirit; spirit cannot strike
As much is seen, as man a God can see,
In these astonishing exploits of power.
Conception of design, how exquisite!
How complicate, in their divine police!
A pt means ! great ends! consent to general good! If in the last, how many knots beside,
Indissoluble all ?—Why choose it there,
Lorenzo! this may seem harangue to thee ; This is not reason's dictate ; reason says, Such all is apt to seem, that thwartş our will. • Close with the side where one grain turns the scale;' And dost thou, then, demand a simple proof What vast preponderance is here ! can reason Of this great master-moral of the skies,
With louder voice exclaim- Believe a God ? Unskill'd, or disinclin'd, to read it there?
And rcason beard, is the sole mark of man. Since 'tis the basis, and all drops without it, What things impossible must man think true, Take it, in one compact, unbroken chain.
On any other system ! and how strange Such proof insists on an attentive ear;
To disbelieve, through mere credulity!" "Twill not make one amid a mob of thoughts, If, in this chain, Lorenzo finds no flaw, And, for thy notice, struggle with the world. Let it for ever bind hiin to belief, Retire ;—the world shut out ;-thy thoughts call And where the link, in which a flow he finds ?
And if a God there is, that God how great! Imagination's airy wing repress ;
How great that power, whose providential care Lock up thy senses :- let no passion stir ; Through these bright orbs' dark centres darts a ray! Wake all to reason ;-let her reign alone ;
of Nature universal threads ihe whole! Then, in thy soul's deep silence, and the depth And bangs creation, like a precious gem, Of Nature's silence, midnight, thus inquire,
Though little, on the footstool of his throne ! As I have done; and shall inquire no more.
That little gem, how large! a weight let fall In Nature's channel, thus the questions run: From a fix'd star, in ages can it reach “What am I? and from whence ?–1 nothing This distant Earth ? Say, then, Lorenzo! where, know
Where ends this mighty building? Where, begin But that I am ; and, since I am, conclude
The suburbs of Creation? Where, the wall Something eternal : had there e'er been nought, Whose battlements look o'er into the vale Nought still had been; eternal there must be. Of non-existence ? Nothing's strange abode! But what eternal ?—Why not human race? Say, at what point of space Jehovah dropp'd And Adam's ancestors without an end ?
His slacken'd line, and laid his balance by ; That's hard to be conceiv'd, since every link Weigh'd worlds, and measur'd infinite, no more? Of that long-chain'd succession is so frail.
Where, rears his terminating pillar bigh Can every part depend, and not the whole ? Its extra mundane head ? and says, to gods, Yet grant it true; new difficulties rise;
In characters illustrious as the Sun, I'm still quite out at sea; nor see the shore. "I stand, the plan's proud period ; I pronounce Whence Earth, and these bright orbs ?—Elernal too? The work accomplish'd; the creation clos'd : Grant maller was eternal; still these orbs
Shout, all ye gods! nor shout, ye gods alone; Would want some other father;-much design Of all that lives, or, if devoid of life, Is seen in all their motions, all their makes ; That rests, or rolls, ye heights, and depths, resound! Design implies intelligence, and art;
Resound! resound! ye depths, and heights, reThat can't be from themselves—or man: that art
sound ! Man scarce can comprehend, could man bestow ? Hard are those questions ;-answer harder still And nothing greater yet allow'd than man. Is this the sole exploit, the single birth, Who, molion, foreign to the smallest grain, The solitary son of power divine? Shot through vast masses of enormous weight ? Or has th' Almighty Father, with a breath, Who bid brute malter's restive lump assume Impregnated the womb of distant space? Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly! Has he not bid, in various provinces, Has matter innale motion ? then each atom,
Brother-creations the dark bowels burst Asserting its indisputable right
Of night primeval ; barren, now, no more ?
And he the central sun, transpiercing all
While Chaos triumphs, repossest of all
Chaos! of Nature both the womb, and grave! Who think a clod inferior to a man!
Think'st thou my scheme, Lorenzo, spreads ton If art, to form ; and counsel, to conduct;
If 'tis an error, 'tis an error sprung
But wherefore error ? who can prove it such ?-Grant I not that which I can ne'er conceive? He that can set Omnipotence a bonnd. A being without origin, or end!
Can man conceive beyond what God can do? Ilail, human liberty! There is no God
Nothing but quite impossible is hard. Yet, why ? On either scheme that not subsists ; He summons into being, with like ease, Subsist it must, in God, or human race :
A whole creation, and a single grain.
Speaks he the word ? a thousand worlds are born! What page of wisdom is denied him ? None; A thousand worlds! there's space for millions more; If learning his chief lesson makes him wise. And in what space can his great fiat fail ?
Nor is instruction, here, our only gain ; Condemn me not, cold critic! but indulge There dwells a noble pathos in the skies, The warm imagination : why condemn?
Which warms our passions, proselytes our hearts. Why not indulge such thoughts, as swell our hearts How eloquently shines the glowing Pole! With fuller admiration of that power,
With what authority it gives its charge, Who gives our hearts with such high thoughts to Demonstrating great truths in style sublime, swell ?
Though silent, loud! heard Earth around ; above Why not indulge in his augmented praise ? The planets heard ; and not unheard in Hell; Daris not his glory a still brighter ray,
Hell has her wonder, though too proud to praise. The less is left to chaos, and the realms
Is Earth, then, more infernal ? has she those, Of hideous night, where fancy strays aghast ; Who neither praise (Lorenzo!) nor admire ? And, though most talkative, makes no report?
Lorenzo's admiration, pre-engag'd, Still seems my thought enormous ? Think again ; Ne'er ask'd the Moon one question; never held Experience 'self shall aid thy lame belief.
Least correspondence with a single star; Glasses (that revelation to the sight!)
Ne'er rear d an allar to the queen of Heaven llave they not led us in the deep disclose
Walking in brightness; or her train ador'd.
Their sublunary rivals have long since
Cause him to sacrifice his fame and peace
To momentary madness, call'd delight. What is too great, if we the cause survey ? Idolater, more gross than ever kiss'd Stupendons Architect! thou, thou art all!
The lifted hand 10 Luna, or pour'd out My soul flies up and down in thoughts of thee, The blood to Jove!- thon, to whom belongs And finds herself but at the centre still!
All sacrifice! O thou Great Jove unfeign'd; I Am thy name! existence all thine own!
Divine Instructor! Thy first volume, this, Creation 's nothing ; Natter'd much, if styl’d For man's perusal; all in capitals! " The thin, the fleeting atmosphere of God."
In Moon, and stars (Heaven's golden alphabet!) O for the voice-of what? of whom ?-What Emblaz'd to seize the sight; who runs, may read, voice
Who reads, can understand. "Tis unconfind Can answer to my wants, in such ascent,
To Christian land, or Jewry; fairly writ As dares to deem one universe too small ?
In language universal, to mankind; Tell me, Lorenzo! (for now fancy glows,
A language, losiy to the learn'd; yet plain Fird in the vortex of almighty power)
To those that feed the Rock, or guide the plow, Is not this home-creation, in the map
Or, from his husk, strike out the bounding grain, Of universal Nature, as a speck,
A language, worthy the Great Mind, that speaks Like fair Britannia in our little ball :
Preface, and comment, to the sacred page!
Which oft refers its reader to the skies,
And Scripture 'self a fragment, that unread. Canst thou not ligure it, an isle, almost
Stupendous book of wisdom, to the wise; Too small for notice, in the vast of being;
Stupendous book! and open'd, Night! by thee. Sever'd by mighty seas of unbuilt space
By thee much open'd, I confess, 0 Vight! From other realms; from ample continents
Yet more I wish; but how shall I prevail ? Of higher life, where nobler natives dwell; Say, gentle Night! whose modest, maiden beame Less northern, less remote from Deity,
Give us a new creation, and present Glowing beneath the line of the Supreme; The world's great picture softenid 10 the sight; Where souls in excellence make haste, put forth Nay, kinder far, far more indulgent still, Luxuriant growths; nor the late autumn wait Say, thou, whose mild dominion's silver key Of human worth, but ripen soon to gods?
Unlocks our hemisphere, and sets to view Yet why drown fancy in such depths as these ? Worlds beyond number; worlds conceald by day Return, presumptuous rover, and confess
Behind the proud and envious star of noon! The bounds of man; nor blame them, as too small. Canst thou not draw a deeper scene ?-And show Enjoy we not full scope in what is seen?
The mighty potentate, to whom belong
These rich regalia pompously display'd
As the chas'd hart, amid the desert waste,
Pants for the living stream ; for him who made her, This Heliopolis, by greater far
So pants the thirsty soul, amid the blank Than the proud tyrant of the Nile, was built ; Of sublunary joys. Say, goddess! where? And he alone, who built it, can destroy.
Where blazes his bright court? Where burns kis Beyond this ciły, why strays human thought ?
throne ? One wonderful! enough for man to know! Thou know'st; for thou art near him; by thee, round One infinite! enough for man to range!
His grand pavilion, sacred same reports One firmament! enough for man to read !
The sable curtain drawn. If not, can none O what voluminous instruction here!
of thy fair daughter-train, so swift of wing,
Who travel far, discover where he dwells? But say, what thought? is reason here enthrond, A star his dwelling pointed out below.
And absolute ? or sense in arms against her? Ye Pleiades! Arcturus! Mazaroth!
Have you two lights? or need you no reveald? And thou, Orion! of still keener eye!
Enjoy your happy realms their golden age ? Say ye, who guide the wilder'd in the waves, And had your Eden an abstemious Eve! And bring them out of tempest into port!
Our Eve's fair daughters prove their pedigree, On which hand must I bend my course to find him? And ask their Adams—Who would not be wise ?" These courtiers keep the secret of their King; Or, if your mother fell, are you redeem'd ? I wake whole nights, in vain, to steal it from them. And if redeem'd-is your Redeemer scorn'd?
I wake; and, waking, climb night's radiant scale, Is this your final residence? if not,
To tempt his eye, and aid his towering thought; Or horrid war ?—With war, this fatal hour,
Europa groans (so call we a small field,
Where kings run mad.) In our world, Death deFrom Earth, as from my barrier, I set out.
putes How swift I mount! diminish'd Earth recedes; Intemperance to do the work of age; I pass the Moon ; and, from her farther side, And hanging up the quiver Nature gave him, Pierce Heaven's blue curtain ; strike into remote ; As slow of execution, for dispatch Where, with his listed tube, the subtle sage Sends forth imperial butchers; bids them slay His artificial, airy journey takes,
Their sheep (the silly sheep they fleec'd before) And to celestial lengthens human sight.
And toss him twice ten thousand at a meal. I pause at every planet on my road,
Sit all your executioners on thrones? And ask for him who gives their orbs to roll, With you, can rage for plunder make a god ? Their foreheads fair to shine. From Saturn's ring, And bloodshed wash out every other stain ?In which, of Earths an army might be lost, But you, perhaps, can't bleed: from matter gross With the bold comet take my bolder fight, Your spirits clean, are delicately clad Amid those sovereign glories of the skies, In fine-spun ether, privileg'd to soar, Of independent, native lustre, proud ;
Unloaded, uninfected; how unlike The souls of systems ! and the lords of life, The lot of man! How few of human race Through their wide empires !—What behold I now ? By their own mud unmurder'd! How we wage A wilderness of wonder burning round;
Self-war eternal! Is your painful day Where larger suns inbabit higher spheres ; Of hardy conflict o'er? Or, are you still Perhaps the villas of descending gods;
Raw candidates at school ? And have you those Nor halt I here ; my toil is but begun;
Who disaffect reversions, as with us? 'Tis but the threshold of the Deity;
But what are we? You never heard of man; Or, far beneath it, I am grovelling still
Or Earth, the bedlam of the universe ! Nor is it strange; I built on a mistake ;
Where reason (undiseas'd with you) runs mad,
Fond of the foulest. In the sacred mount
Pause, then, and, for a moment, here aspire- E'en there, by saints, the demons are outdone ;
Satan, instructed, o'er their morals smiles.-
Has the least rumor of our race arriv'd ? To mine, how short! On Nature's Alps I stand, Call'd here Elijah in his flaming car? And see a thousand firmaments beneath!
Pass'd by you the good Enoch, on his road A thousand systems ! as a thousand grains! To those fair fields, whence Lucifer was hurld; So much a stranger, and so lale arriv'd,
Who brush'd, perhaps, your sphere in his descent, How can man's curious spirit not inquire,
Stain'd your pure crystal ether, or let fall What are the natives of this world sublime, A short eclipse from his portentous shade ? Of this so foreign, up-terrestrial sphere,
O! that the fiend had lodg’d on some broad orb Where mortal, untranslated, never stray'd ? Athwart his way; nor reach'd his present home, "Oye, as distant from my little home,
Then blackend Earth with footsteps fould in Hell As swiftest sunbeams in an age can fly!
Nor wash'd in ocean, as from Rome he pass'd Far from my native element I roam,
To Britain's isle; too, too, conspicuous there! In quest of new, and wonderful, to man.
But this is all digression : where is he, What province this, of his immense domain, That o'er Heaven's battlements the felon hurl'd Whom all obeys ? or mortals here, or gods? To groans, and chains, and darkness ? Where is he Ye borderers on the coasts of bliss! what are you ? Who sees creation's summit in the vale ? A colony from Heaven? Or, only rais'd,
He, whom, while man is man, he can't but seek; By frequent visit from Heaven's neighboring realms, And if he finds, commences more than man? To secondary gods, and half-divine ?
O for a telescope his throne to reach! Whate'er your nature, this is past dispute, Tell me, ye learn'd on Earth! or blest above ! Far other life you live, far other tongue
Ye searching, ye Newtonian angels! tell, You talk, far other thought, perhaps, you think, Where, your great Master's orb ? His planets where Than man. How various are the works of God! Those conscious satellites, those morning-stars,
First-born of Deity! from central love,
Must man exclaim, adoring, and aghast ? By veneration most profound, thrown off!.
"O what a root! ( what a branch, is here! By sweet attraction, no less strongly drawn; O what a Father! What a family! Aw'd, and yet raplur'd; raptur'd, yet serene ; Worlds! systems and creations And creations, Past thought illustrious, but with borrow'd beams; In one agglomerated cluster, hung, In still approaching circles, still remote,
Great Vine !* on thee; on thee the cluster hangg Revolving round the Sun's eternal Sire?
The filial clustre! infinitely spread Or sent, in lines direct, on embassies
In glowing globes, with various being fraught ; To nations-in what latitude - Beyond
And drinks (nectareous draught!) immortal life. Terrestrial thought's horizon —And on what Or, shall I say (for who can say enough ?) High errands sent?—Here human effort ends; A constellation of ten thousand gems, And leaves me still a stranger to his throne. (And, O! of what dimension ! of what weight!
Full well it might! I quite mistook my road; Set in one signet, fames on the right hand Born in an age more curious than devout; Of Majesty Divine! The blazing scal, More fond to fix the place of Heaven, or Hell, That deeply stamps, on all created mind, Than studious this to shun, or that secure.
Indelible, his sovereign attributes, "Tis not the curious, but the pious path,
Omnipotence, and love! Thal, passing bound; That leads me to my point : Lorenzo! know, And this, surpassing that. Nor stop we here, Without or star, or angel, for their guide,
For want of power in God, but thought in man. Who worship God, shall find him. Humble love, E'en this acknowledg’d, leaves us still in debt : And not proud reason, keeps the door of Heaven; If greater aught, that greater all is thine, Love finds admission, where proud science fails. Dread Sire Accept this miniature of thee ; Man's science is the culture of his heart;
And pardon an attempt from mortal thought, And not to lose his plummet in the depths
In which archangels might have fail'd, unblam'd." Of Nature, or the more profound of God.
How such ideas of th’ Almighty's power, Either to know, is an attempt that sets
And such ideas of th’ Almighty's plan, The wisest on a level with the fool.
(Ideas not absurd.) distend the thought To fathom Nature (ill-attempted here !)
Of feeble mortals! Nor of them alone! Past doubt is deep philosophy above ;
'The fullness of the Deity breaks forth Higher degrees in bliss archangels take,
In inconceivables to men, and gods. As deeper learn’d; the deepest, learning still. Think, then, O think, nor ever drop the thought, For, what a thunder of Omnipotence
How low must man descend, when gods adore ! (So might I dare to speak) is seen in all!
Have I not, then, accomplish'd my proud boast ! In man! in Earth! in more amazing skies ! Did I not tell thee, “ We would mount, Lorenzo, Teaching this lesson, pride is loth to learn And kindle our devotion at the stars?" “ Not deeply to discern, not much to know,
And have I faild? And did I flatter thee ? Mankind was born to wonder, and adore."
And art all adamant ? And dost confute And is there cause for higher wonder still, All urg'd, with one irrefragable smile ? Than that which struck us from our past surveys ? Lorenzo! mirth how miserable here ! Yes; and for deeper adoration too.
Swear by the stars, by him who made them, swear, From my late airy travel unconfin'd,
Thy heart, henceforth, shall be as pure as they : Have I learn'd nothing ?-Yes, Lorenzo! this; Then thou, like them, shalt shine ; like them, shah Each of these stars is a religious house ;
The stars, from whence ?-Ask Chaos—he can tell Nature all o'er is consecrated ground,
These bright temptations to idolatry, Teeming with growths immortal and divine. From darkness and confusion, took their birth; The great proprietor's all-bounteous hand Sons of deformity! from fluid dregs Leaves nothing waste; but sows these fiery fields Tartarean, first they rose to masses rude ; With seeds of reason, which to virtues rise And then, to spheres opaque; then dimly shone, Beneath his genial ray: and, if escap'd
Then brighten'd; then blazd out in perfect day. The pestilential blasts of stubborn will,
Nature delights in progress; in advance When grown mature, are gather'd for the skies. From worse to better; but, when minds ascend, And is devotion thought too much on Earth, | Progress, in part, depends upon.themselves. When beings, so superior, homage boast,
Heaven aids exertion; greater makes the great ; And triumph in prostration to the throne ?
The voluntary little lessens more. But wherefore more of planets, or of stars?
O be a man! and thou shalt be a God!
And half self-made !--Ambition how divine !
Still undevout! Unkindled ?- Though high-taught, Except the bold Lorenzos of our sphere ?
School'd by the skies, and pupil of the stars ; Opening the solemn sources of my soul,
Rank coward to the fashionable world!
Pride in religion is man's highest praise.
* John, xv. l.
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