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No spot on earth but has supply'd a grave,
And human skulls the spacious ocean pave.

All's full of man; and at this dreadful turn,

The swarm shall issue, and the hive shall burn.

Not all at once, nor in like manner rise: Some lift with pain their slow unwilling eyes: Shrink backward from the terror of the light, And bless the grave, and call for lasting night. Others, whose long-attempted virtue stood, Fix'd as a rock, and broke the rushing flood, Whose firm resolve, nor beauty could melt down, Nor raging tyrants from their posture frown; Such, in this day of horrors, shall be seen. To face the thunders with a god-like mien; The planets drop, their thoughts are fix’d above; The centre shakes, their hearts disdain to move;

An earth dissolving, and a heaven thrown wide,

A yawning gulph, and fiends on ev'ry side,
Serene they view, impatient of delay,
And bless the dawn of everlasting day.

Indulgent GoD ! O how shall mortal raise
His soul to due returns of grateful praise,
For bounty so profuse to human kind,
Thy wond’rous gist of an eternal mind?


Shall I, who some few years ago was less
Than worm, or mite, or shadow can express,
Was nothing; shall I live, when ev'ry fire
Of ev'ry star shall languish and expire?
When earth's no more, shall I survive above,
And through the radiant files of angels move?
Or, as before the throne of GoD I stand,
See new worlds rolling from his spacious hand,
Where our adventures shall perhaps be taught,
As we now tell how Michael sung or sought?
All that has being in full concert join,
And celebrate the depths of love divine!

But, O! before this blissful state, before Th’ aspiring soul this wond’rous height can soar, The Judge, descending, thunders from afar, And all mankind is summon'd to the bar. Fiction, be far away; let no machine Descending here, no sable god, be seen; Behold the God of gods indeed descend, And worlds unnumber'd his approach attend!

Lo! the wide theatre, whose ample space
Must entertain the whole of human race,
At Heaven's all-powerful edict is prepar’d,
And fenc'd around with an immortal guard,

Tribes, provinces, dominions, worlds, o'erflow
The mighty plain, and deluge all below:
And ev'ry age, and nation, pours along,
Nimrod and Bourbon mingle in the throng:
Adam salutes his youngest son: no sign
Of all those ages, which their births disjoin.

How empty learning, and how vain is art, But as it mends the life, and guides the heart! What volumes have been swell'd, what time been spent, To fix a hero's birth-day, or descent! What joy must it now yield, what rapture raise, To see the glorious race of ancient days!

To greet those worthies, who perhaps have stood

Illustrious on record before the flood!
Alas! a nearer care your souls demands,
Caesar un-noted in your presence stands.

How vast the concourse! not in number more The waves that break on the resounding shore, The leaves that tremble in the shady grove, The lamps that gild the spangled vaults above: - Those overwhelming armies, whose command Said to one empire, fall; another, stand: Whose rear lay wraptin night, while breaking dawn . Rous’d the broad front, and call'd the battle on: .

Great Xerxes' world in arms, proud Cannae’s field,
Where Carthage taught victorious Rome to yield;
Immortal Blenheim, fam'd Ramillia’s host,
They all are here, and here they all are lost:
Their millions swell to be discern’d in vain,
Lost as a billow in th' unbounded main.

This echoing voice now rends the yielding air, For judgment, judgment, sons of men Arohare! Earth shakes anew; I hear her groans profound; And hell through all her trembling realms resound.

Whoe'er thou art, thou greatest Pow'r of earth, Blest with most equal planets at thy birth; Whose valour drew the most successful sword, Most realms united in one common lord; Who, on the day of triumph, saidst, be thine

The skies, Jehovah, all this world is mine:

Dare not to lift thine eye.—Alas! my muse, How art thou lost! What numbers canst thou choose?

A sudden blush inflames the waving sky, And now the crimson curtains open fly; Lo! far within, and far above all height, Where heaven's great Sov’reign reigns in world's of light,

Whence nature he informs, and with one ray
Shot from his eye, does all her works survey,
Creates, supports, confounds! Where time and/lace,
Matter, and form, and fortune, life, and grace,
Wait humbly at the footstool of their God,
And move obedient to his awful nod;
Whence he beholds us vagrant emmets crawl
At random on this air-suspended ball:
(Speck of creation:) if he pour one breath,
The bubble breaks, and ’tis eternal death. .

Thence issuing I behold, (but mortal sight Sustains not such a rushing sea of light!) I see, on an empyreal flying throne Sublimely rais'd, Heaven's Everlasting Son; Crown'd with that majesty that form'd the world, And the grand rebel flaming downward hurl’d. Virtue, dominion, Araise, omniAotence, Support the train of their triumphant Prince. A zone beyond the thought of angels bright, Around him, like the zodiac, winds its light. Night shades the solemn arches of his brows, ..And in his cheek the purple morning glows. Where'er serene, he turns propitious eyes, Or we expect to find a paradise; But if resentment reddens their mild beams, . The Edén kindles, and the world's in flames, .

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