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Place me, O heav'n, in fome retreat
There let the serious death-wateh beat,
There let me felf in filence thun,
To feel thy will, which should be done.
Then comes the Spirit to our hut,
When fast the senses' doors are fhut;
For fo divine and pure a guest
The emptiett rooms are furnith'd best,
O Contemplation! air serene
From damps of sense, and fogs of fpleen!
Pure mount of thought ! thrice holy ground,
Where grace, when waited for, is found.
Here 'tis the foul feels fudden youth,
And meets exulting, virgin Truth ;
Here, like a breeze of gentlest kind,
Impulfes ruftle thro' the mind;
Here shines that light with glowing face,
The fuse divine, that kindles grace ;
Which, if we trim our lamps, will latte
Till darkness be by dying past,
And then goes out at end of night,
Extinguish'd by superior light.
Ah me! the heats and colds of life,
Pleasure's and pain's eternal ftrife,
Breed formy pasions, which confin'd,
Shake, like th' Æolian cave, the mind;
And raise despair, my lamp. can laft,
Plac'd where they drive the furious blast.
False eloquence, big empty found,
Like showers, that rush upon the ground,
Little beneath the surface goes,
All streams along and muddy flows.
This finks, and swells the buried grain,
And fructifies like southern rain.
His art, well hid in mild discourse,
Exerts persuafion's winning force,
And nervates so the good design,
That king Agrippa's case is mine.
Well-natur'd, happy shade, forgive!
think, but cannot live.
Thy scheme requires the world's contempt,
That, from dependence life exempt ;
And constitution fram'd so strong,
This world's worst climate cannot wrong.
Not such my lot, not Fortune's brat,
I live by pulling off the hat;
Compell’d by station every hour
To bow to images of power;
And, in life's busy scenes immers’d,
See better things, and do the worst.
Elcquent Want, whose reasons fway,
And make ten thousand truths give way,
While I your scheme with pleasure trace,
Draws near, and stares me in the face.
Confider well your state, she cries,
Like others kneel, that you may rise ;
Hold doctrines, by no fcruples vex'd,
To which preferment is annex'd,
Nor madly prove, where all depends,
Idolatry upon your friends.
See, how you like my rueful, face,
Such you must wear, if out of place.
Crack'd is your brain to turn recluse.
Without one farthing out at use.
They, who have lands, and safe bank-stock,
With faith so founded on a rock,
May give a rich invention ease,
And construe scripture how they please.
The honour'd prophet, that of old
Us'd heav'n's high counsels to unfold,
Did, more than courier angels, greet
The crows, that brought him bread and meat.
Has quoniam cæli nondum dignamur bonore,
Quas dedimus certè terras habitare finamus.
OW had th' archangel trumpet, rais'd sublime
Above the walls of heav'n, begun to sound;
All æther took the blaft, and hell beneath
Shook with celestial noise; th' almighty hoft
Hot with pursuit, and reeking with the blood
Of guilty cherubs smear'd in sulphurous duft,
Pause at the known command of sounding gold.
At first they close the wide Tartarian gates,
Th' impenetrable folds on brazen hinge
Roll creaking horrible; the din beneath
O’ercomes the roar of flames, and deafens hell.
Then through the solid gloom with nimble wing
They cut their shining traces up to light;
Return'd upon the edge of heavenly day,
Where thinneft beam's play round the vast obscure,
And with eternal gleam drive back the night.
They find the troops less stubborn, less involv'd
In crime and ruin, barr'd the realms of peace,
Yet uncondemn’d to baleful feats of woe,
Doubtful and suppliant; all the plumes of light
Moult from their shuddering wings, and fickly fear
Shades every face with horror; conscious guilt
Rolls in the livid eye-ball, and each breast
Shakes with the dread of future doom unknown.
'Tis here the wide circumference of heaven
Opens in two vaft gates, that inward turn
Voluminous, on jasper columns hung
By geometry divine : they ever glow
With living sculptures, that arife by turns
T'imboss the shining leaves, by turns they set.
To give succeeding argument their place;
In holy hieroglyphicks on they move,
The gaze of journeying angels, as they pass
Oft looking back, and held in deep surprize.
Here stood the troops distinct; the cherub guard
Unbarr’d the splendid gates, and in they roll
Harmonious; for a yocal spirit fits
Within each hinge, and, as they onward drive,
In just divisions breaks the numerous jarr
With symphony melodious, such as spheres
Involv'd in ten fold wreaths are said to found.