Not hell, tho' hell's black jaws in funder part, And breathe blue fire, could more affault his heart.. Confus'd, and ftruck with filence at the deed, He flies, but trembling fails to fly with fpeed : His fteps the youth purfues; the country lay Perplex'd with roads; a fervant fhow'd the way: A river crofs'd the path; the paffage o'er The youth who feem'd to watch a time to fin, Approach'd the careless guide, and thruft him in; Plunging he falls, and rifing lifts his head, Then flashing turns, and finks among the dead. Wild, fparkling rage inflames the father's eyes, He burfts the bands of fear, and madly cries, Detefted wretch. But fcarce his fpeech began, When the ftrange partner feem'd no longer man : His youthful face grew more ferenely fweet; His robe turn'd white, and flow'd upon his feet; Fair rounds of radiant points inveft his hair; Celestial odours breathe thro' purpled air; And wings, whofe colours glitter'd on the day, Wide at his back their gradual plumes difplay. The form etherial bursts upon his fight, Tho' loud at firft the pilgrim's paffion grew, Sudden he gaz'd, and wift not what to do; Surprize in fecret chains his words fufpends, And in a calm his fettling temper ends. But filence here the beauteous angel broke, (The voice of mufick ravifh'd as he spoke.) Thy prayer, thy praife, thy life to vice unknown, In fweet memorial rife before the throne: These charms, fuccefs in our bright region find, And force an angel down to calm thy mind; And let these fcruples be no longer thine. The Maker juftly claims, that world he made, In this the right of providence is laid; On ufing fecond means to work his ends: The pow'r exerts his attributes on high; Your actions ufes, 'nor controuls your will, And bids the doubting fons of men be ftill. What ftrange events can ftrike with more furprize, Than thofe which lately ftruck thy wond'ring eyes? Yet taught by thefe, confefs th' Almighty juft, And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust! The The great, vain man,who far'd on coftly food, Whofe life was too luxurious to be good; Who made his iv'ry ftands with goblets fhine, And forc'd his guests to morning draughts of wine, Has, with the cup, the graceless cuftom loft; And still he welcomes, but with lefs of cost. The mean, fufpicious wretch, whofe bolted . door, Ne'er mov'd in duty to the wand'ring poor; And feels compaffion touch his grateful foul. Long, had our pious friend in virtue trod, But now the child half-wean'd his heart, from God; (Child of his age) for him he liv'd in pain, But how had all his fortune felt a wrack,Had that falfe fervant sped in safety back? This night his treafur'd heaps he meant to fteal, And what a fund of charity would fail! Thus heav'n inftructs thy mind: this trial o'er, Depart in peace, refign, and fin no more.. On founding pinions here the youth withdrew, The fage ftood wond'ring as the feraph flew. The HYMN of CLEANTHER *. Under various facred names ador'd, Divinity fupreme! all potent Lord! Author of nature! whofe unbounded fway, And legislative power all things obey. Majeftick Jove all hail! to thee belong The fuppliant prayer, and tributary fong, To thee from all thy mortal offspring due. From thee we came, from thee our being drew. Whatever lives and moves, great Sire! is thine, Embodied portions of the foul divine. Therefore to thee will I attune my ftring, And of thy wond'rous power for ever fing. The *Cleanther, author of this hymn, was a Stoic-philofopher, a difciple of Zeno. The wheeling orbs, the wand'ring fires above, And roll spontaneous where thou point'st the way. Such is the awe impreft on nature round, When thro' the void thy dreadful thunders found: Thofe flaming agents of thy matchlefs power, For nor in earth, nor earth in circling floods, Is ought perform'd without thy aid divine. Vice is the act of man, by paffions toft, And in the frorelefs fea of folly loft. But thou, what vice diforders, canft compofe, But wretched mortals fhun the heav'nly light.. That leads obedient man to folid good. Gc 3 Some |