66

the beast and his image, when the natives of heaven shall join in concert with prophets and faints, and fing to their golden harps falvation, honour and glory to "Him that fits upon the throne, and to the Lamb for "ever."

May 14, 1709.

HORE

HORE LYRICÆ.

BOOK I

Sacred to DEVOTION and PIETY.

WORSHIPPING WITH FEAR.

WHO dares attempt th' eternal Name,

With notes of mortal found?

Dangers and glories guard the theme,
And spread defpair around.

Destruction waits t' obey his frown,
And Heaven attends his fmile;
A wreath of lightning arms his crown,
But love adorns it ftill.

Celestial king, our fpirits lie,

Trembling beneath thy feet,

And wish, and cast a longing eye,

To reach thy lofty seat.

When fhall we fee the Great Unknown,

And in thy prefence stand?
Reveal the fplendors of thy throne,
But fhield us with thy hand.

In thee what endless wonders meet!
What various glory fhines!
The croffing rays too fiercely beat
Upon our fainting minds.

Angels are loft in fweet furprize
If thou unvail thy grace;

And humble awe runs through the skies,
When wrath arrays thy face.

When mercy joins with majesty
To spread their beams abroad,
Not all their fairest minds on high
Are fhadows of a God.

Thy works the strongest seraph fings
In a too feeble strain,

And labours hard on all his ftrings
To reach thy thoughts in vain.

Created powers, how weak they be !
How short our praises fall!
So much akin to nothing we,
And thou th' eternal All.

ASK

ASKING LEAVE TO SING.

YET,

ET, mighty God, indulge my tongue,
Nor let thy thunders roar,

Whilst the young notes and venturous fong
To worlds of glory foar.

If thou my daring flight forbid,
The Mufe folds-up her wings;
Or at thy word her fiender reed
Attempts almighty things.

Her flender reed, inspir'd by thee,
Bids a new Eden grow,

With blooming life on every tree,
And spreads a Heaven below.

She mocks the trumpet's loud alarms,
Fill'd with thy dreadful breath:
And calls th' angelic hosts to arms,
To give the nations death.

But when the taftes her Saviour's love,
And feels the rapture ftrong,
Scarce the divinest harp above

Aims at a sweeter fong.

DIVINE]

DIVINE JUDGMENTS.

NOT from the dust my forrows spring,

Nor drop my comforts from the lower fkies!
Let all the baneful planets shed

Their mingled curfes on my head,

How vain their curfes, if th' Eternal King
Look through the clouds and bless me with his eyes!
Creatures with all their boafted fway

Are but his flaves, and must obey;
They wait their orders from above,
And execute his word, the vengeance, or the love,

'Tis by a warrant from his hand

The gentler gales are bound to fleep :
The North wind blusters, and affumes command
Over the defert and the deep;

Old Boreas with his freezing powers
Turns the earth iron, makes the ocean glass,
Arrefts the dancing rivulets as they pafs,

And chains them moveless to their fhores;

The grazing ox lows to the gelid skies,

Walks o'er the marble meads with withering eyes, Walks o'er the folid lakes, fnuffs up the wind, and dies.

Fly to the polar world, my fong,

And mourn the pilgrims there, (a wretched throng!)
Seiz'd and bound in rigid chains,

A troop of ftatues on the Ruffian plains,
And life ftands frozen in the purple veins.
Atheift, forbear; no more blafpheme:

God