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IV.

On, on, the task is eafy now and light,
No fteams of earth can here retard thy flight.
Thou need'ft not now thy ftrokes renew,
"Tis but to spread thy pinions wide,

And thou with eafe thy feat wilt view,
Drawn by the bent of the ætherial ti `e.
"Tis fo, I find how fweetly on I move,

Not held by things below, and help'd by thofe above.
V.

But fee to what new region am I come,
I know it well, it is my native home.
Here led I once a life divine,
Which did all good, no evil know,

Ah! who would fuch fweet blifs refign
For thofe vain fhews which fools admire below?
'Tis true, but don't of folly paft complain,
But joy to fee thofe bleft abodes again.

VI.

A good retrieve? but lo, while thus I fpcak
With piercing rays th' eternal day does break;
Beauties of the face divine

Strike ftrongly on my feeble fight,
With what bright glories does it shine!
'Tis one immenfe and everflowing light :

Stop here my foul, thou canst not bear more blifs,
Nor can thy now rais'd palate ever relish less.

L

The RESIGNATION.

By an unknown hand.

I.

ON G have I view'd, long have I thought,

And held with trembling hands this bitter draught; 'Twas now just to my lips apply'd,

Nature fhrunk back, and all my courage dy'd:

But now refolv'd and firm I'll be,

Since, Lord, 'tis mingled and held up by thee.

89

II.

I'll truft my great physician's skill;
I know what he prescribes can ne'er be ill:
To each disease he knows what's fit ;
I own him wife, and good, and do submit:
I now no longer grieve or pine,

Since 'tis thy pleasure, Lord, it fhall be mine.
III.

Thy medicine puts me to great fmart,
Thou'ft wounded me in my most tender part:
But 'tis with a design to cure,

I must and will thy fovereign touch endure :
All that I priz❜d below is gone,
But yet I ftill will pray, thy will be done.

IV.

Since 'tis thy fentence I fhould part
With the most precious treasure of my heart,
I freely that and more refign;

My heart itself as its delight, is thine;
My little all I give to thee,

Thou gav'ft a greater gift, thy fon, to me.

V.

He left true blifs and joys above,
Himself he emptied of all good but love ;
For me he did forfake

More good than he from me can ever take;
A mortal life for a divine

He took, and did at last ev'n that refign.

VI.

Take all, great God, I will not grieve,
But ftill will wish that I had ftill to give;
I hear thy voice, thou bidft me quit
My paradife, I blifs and do fabmit;
I will not murmur at thy word,
Nor beg thy angel to fheath up his fword.

Α'

The WARNING.

LL you who leap religion's facred fence,
And hunt th' ignoble chace of luft and fenfe,
H3

Whofs

Whofe impious breaft fome hellifh fiend infpires!
And tongues, and eyes confefs adult'rous fires;
Who drown your wretched fouls in floods of wine,
And to the beast the nobler man resign;

Who with loud oaths, and curses rend the sky,
And dare immortal virtue's bright authority:
With earnest speed your darling vice forego,
Which elfe will prove your certain overthrow.
For fince heaven's awful king is just and pure,
You must the lashes of his wrath endure ;
Muft e're 'tis long, to your confufion, find
That th' injur'd God is neither deaf nor blind.

WH

The VANITY of the WORLD.

By a young Lady.

7HAT if ferenely bleft, with calms I swam, Pactolus, in thy golden fanded stream; Not all the wealth, that lavish chance cou'd give, My foul from death cou'd one short hour reprieve; When from my heart the wand'ring life must move, No cordial all my ufelefs gold wou'd prove. What tho' i plung'd in joys fo deep and wide, 'Twou'd tire my thoughts to reach the distant fide; Fancy itself 'twou'd tire to plumb the abyss, If I for an uncertain leafe of this Sold the fair hope of an eternal bliss. What if invested with the roval state Of darling queens, ador'd by kings I fat; Yet when my trembling foul diflodg'd wou'd be; No room of state within the grave for me. What if my youth in wit, and beauty's bloom Shou'd promife many a flattering year to come; Tho' death fhou'd pafs the beauteous flourisher, Advancing time wou'd all its glories marr. What if the mufes loudly fang my fame, The barren mountains echoing with my name, An envious puff might blast the rifing pride, And all its bright confpicuous luftre hide.

If o'er my relicks monument they raife,
And fill the world with flattery or praise,
Oh what wou'd all avail, if fink I must,
My foul to endless shades, my body to the duft?

Tell me, O thou whom my foul loves, where thou feedeft, where thou caufeft thy flocks to reft at noon. Cant. i. 7.

By Mrs. Rowe.

I.

Lovelier to my ravish'd eyes
Than all they ever faw,

Much dearer than the light I view,
Or vital breath I draw;

II.

Eternal treasure of my heart,
Whom as my foul I love,
Oh tell me to what happy fhades

Thou do'ft at noon remove.

III.

Oh tell me where, by chryftal ftreams,
Thy fnowy flocks are led,

And in what fruitful meadows they
Are by thy bounty fed.

IV.

For thee I languish all the day,

For thee I hourly pine,

As flow'rs that want the chearing fun
Their painted heads recline.

V.

Ah why from my impatient eyes
Do'st thou thyself conceal?

Whilst I in vain in lonely fhades
My restless pain reveal.

And

And tho after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my fleh I fhall fee God. Job xix. 26.

WHAT

By a young Lady.

1.

'HAT tho' my foul, rent from the close embrace Of this material confort, take her flight,

(Exil'd the confines of her native place)

And leave these eyes clos❜d in a difmal night ?
She shall again resume the dear abode,
And cloth'd in flesh I shall behold my God.

II.

Tho' in the gloomy regions of the grave
Forgotten and infenfible I lye,

That tedious night fhall a bright morning have,
The welcome dawnings of eternity:

My foul fhall then refume her old abode,
And cloth'd in flesh I fhall behold my God.
III.

Altho' refolv'd into my native dust,
Its proper part each element refign;
Yet at my awful maker's breath they must
Again the num❜rous particles refine:
And then my foul fhall take her old abode,
And cloth'd in flesh I fhall behold my God.

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In Praife of VIRTUE. By Mr. Tate.

For a quill drawn from an angel's wing!
O for a mafter feraph's voice, to fing
A fubject worthy of feraphic lays,
'Tis virtue, bright celeftial virtue's praife!
Virtue beyond compare, by all allow'd
The fairest beauty, and the best endow'd.
For what imperial dame like her can fay,

I've wealth can ne'er be loft, and charms will ne'er decay?
An Eden where unfading pleafures gow,

And joy's pure ftreams uninterrupted flow.

Not

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