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Whose names were many and all blasphemous,

Hath met the horrible judgment! Whence that cry?
The mighty army of foul Spirits shrieked
Disherited of earth! For she hath fallen

On whose black front was written MYSTERY;
She that reeled heavily, whose wine was blood;
She that worked whoredom with the DEMON POWER
And from the dark embrace all evil things

Brought forth and nurtured: mitred ATHEISM;
And patient FOLLY who on bended knee

Gives back the steel that stabbed him; and pale
FEAR

Hunted by ghastlier shapings than surround
Moon-blasted Madness when he yells at midnight!
Return pure FAITH! return meek PIETY!
The kingdoms of the world are your's: each heart
Self-governed, the vast family of Love

Raised from the common earth by common toil
Enjoy the equal produce. Such delights
As float to earth, permitted visitants!
When in some hour of solemn jubilee
The massy gates of Paradise are thrown
Wide open, and forth come in fragments wild
Sweet echoes of unearthly melodies,

And odours snatched from beds of Amaranth,

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And they, that from the crystal river of life
Spring up on freshened wing, ambrosial gales!
The favoured good man in his lonely walk
Perceives them, and his silent spirit drinks
Strange bliss which he shall recognize in heaven.
And such delights, such strange beatitude
Seize on my young anticipating heart

When that blest future rushes on my view!
For in his own and in his Father's might

The SAVIOUR comes! While as the THOUSAND

YEARS

Lead up their mystic dance, the DESERT shouts !
Old OCEAN claps his hands! The mighty Dead
Rise to new life, whoe'er from earliest time

With conscious zeal had urged Love's wondrous plan,
Coadjutors of God. To MILTON's trump

The high Groves of the renovated Earth
Unbosom their glad echoes: inly hushed,
Adoring NEWTON his serener eye

Raises to heaven: and he of mortal kind
Wisest, he first who marked the ideal tribes
Up the fine fibres through the sentient brain.
Lo! PRIESTLEY there, Patriot, and Saint, and Sage,
Him, full of years, from his loved native land
Statesmen blood-stained and Priests idolatrous

• David Hartley.

By dark lies maddening the blind multitude
Drove with vain hate. Calm, pitying he retired,
And mused expectant on these promised years.

0 Years! the blest preeminence of Saints!
Ye sweep athwart my gaze, so heavenly-bright,
The wings that veil the adoring Seraph's eyes,
What time he bends before the Jasper Throne*
Reflect no lovelier hues! yet ye depart,

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And all beyond is darkness! Heights most strange,
Whence Fancy falls, fluttering her idle wing.

For who of woman born may paint the hour,
When seized in his mid course, the Sun shall wane
Making noon ghastly! Who of woman born
May image in the workings of his thought,
How the black-visaged, red-eyed Fiend outstretched t
Beneath the unsteady feet of Nature groans,
In feverish slumbers-destined then to wake,
When fiery whirlwinds thunder his dread name
And Angels shout, DESTRUCTION! How his arm

* Rev. Chap. iv, v. 2, and 3.—And immediately I was in the Spirit: and behold, a Throne was set in Heaven, and one sat on the Throne. And he that sat was to look upon like a jasper and sardine stone, &c.

The final Destruction impersonated.

The last great Spirit lifting high in air

Shall swear by Him, the ever-living ONE,
TIME IS NO MORE!

Believe thou, O my soul,

Life is a vision shadowy of Truth;

And vice, and anguish, and the wormy grave,
Shapes of a dream! The veiling clouds retire,
And lo! the Throne of the redeeming God
Forth flashing unimaginable day

Wraps in one blaze earth, heaven, and deepest hell.

Contemplant Spirits! ye that hover o'er
With untired gaze the immeasurable fount
Ebullient with creative Deity!

And ye of plastic power, that interfused
Roll through the grosser and material mass
In organizing surge! Holies of God!

(And what if Monads of the infinite mind,
I haply journeying my immortal course
Shall sometime join your mystic choir? Till then
I discipline my young noviciate thought
In ministeries of heart-stirring song,

And aye on Meditation's heaven-ward wing
Soaring aloft I breathe the empyreal air

Of Love, omnific, omnipresent Love,
Whose day-spring rises glorious in my soul
As the great Sun, when he his influence

Sheds on

the frost-bound waters-The glad stream and warbles as it flows.

Flows to the

ray

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