« ПредишнаНапред »
I hate the duft that fierce difputers raise,
And lofe the mind in a wild maze of thought:
To fence and guard by rule and rote !
Our God will never charge us, That we knew them Not.
I feel my powers releas'd, and stand divinely free.
The ground of all things, and their head,
The circle where they move, and centre where they stand.
Without his aid I have no fure defence,
From troops of errors that befiege me round;
But he that refts his reafon and his fenfe
Faft here, and never wanders hence, Unmoveable he dwells upon unfhaken ground.
Infinite Truth, the life of my defires,
Come from the iky, and join thyself to me;
'Tis thy fair face alone my spirit burns to fee.
Speak to my foul, alone, no other hand
And leave his fingle voice to whisper to my heart.
Retire, my foul, within thy felf retire,
The Lord grows lavish of his heavenly light,
And fees unutterable things in that unknown abyfs.
TRUE WISDO M.
Ronounce him bleft, my Muse, whom Wisdom guides In her own path to her own heavenly feat; Through all the storms his foul fecurely glides,
Nor can the tempefts, nor the tides,
That rife and roar around, fupplant his steady feet.
Earth, you may let your golden arrows fly,
Our head-ftrong lufts, like a young fiery horse,
He tames and breaks them, manages and rides them,
And bids his reafon bridle their licentious force.
Lord of himself, he rules his wildest thoughts,
A plague like reigning paffions, and a fubject mind.
But oh! 'tis mighty toil to reach this height,
To bear the noble pain, and part
With thofe dear charming tempters rooted in the heart!
'Tis hard to ftand when all the paffions move,
That clings fo close about our minds,
And where th' inchanted foul fo fweet a poifon finds.
Hard; but it may be done. Come, heavenly fire,
But not be chain'd and prifon'd in a cage of clay.
Heaven is my home, and I must use my wings;
I have a foul was made to pity kings,
And all their little glittering things;
I have a foul was made for infinite defires.
Loos'd from the earth, my heart is upward flown;
Now, fhould you fix my feet on Cæfar's throne,
Crown me, and call the world my own,
The gold that binds my brows could ne'er my foul confine.
I am the Lord's, and Jefus is my love;
There all my foul fhall center, all my powers conspire.
Thus I with angels live; thus half-divine
I fit on high, nor mind inferior joys:
Fill'd with his love, I feel that God is mine,
His glory is my great defign,
That everlasting project all my thoughts employs.
A SONG to Creating WISDOM.
TERNAL Wisdom, thee we praise,
With thy loud name, rocks, hills, and seas,
Place me on the bright wings of day
To travel with the fun;
With what amaze fhall I furvey
The wonders thou haft done!
Thy hand how wide it spread the sky!
There thou haft bid the globes of light
Their endless circles run;
There the pale planet rules the night,
Downward I turn my wondering eyes
Thofe under-regions of the skies
The noify winds ftand ready there
With founding wings they fweep the air,
To make thy chariot way.
There, like a trumpet, loud and strong,
On the thin air, without a prop,
Now to the earth I bend my fong,
And caft my eyes abroad, Glancing the British ifles along; Bleft ifles, confefs your God.