At heaven's all-powerful edict is prepar'd,
And fenc'd around with an immortal guard.
Tribes, provinces, dominions, worlds, o'erflow
The mighty plain, and deluge all below:
And every age, and nation, pours along;
Nimrod and Bourbon mingle in the throng:-
Adam falutes his youngest fon; no sign
Of all thofe ages, which their births disjoin,
How empty learning, and how vain is art,
But as it mends the life, and guides the heart!
What volumes have been fwell'd, what time been spent,
To fix a hero's birth-day, or descent !
What joy muft it now yield, what rapture raise,
To fee the glorious race of antient days;
To greet thofe worthies, who perhaps have stood
Illuftrious on record before the flood!
Alas! a nearer care your foul demands.
Cæfar un-noted in your prefence stands.
How vaft the concourfe! not in number more
The waves that break on the refounding fhore,
The leaves that tremble in the fhady grove,
The lamps that gild the fpangled vaults above:
Thofe overwhelming armies, whofe command
Said to one empire, Fall; another Stand:
Whofe rear lay wrapt in night, while breaking dawn
Rouz'd the broad front, and call'd the battle on:
Great Xerxes' world in arms, proud Cannæ's field,
Where Carthage taught victorious Rome to yield, 190
(Another blow had broke the Fates' decree,
And earth had wanted her fourth monarchy)
Immortal Blenheim, fam'd Ramillia's host,
They All are here, and here they All are loft:
Their millions fwell to be difcern'd in vain,
Loft as a billow in th' unbounded main.
This echoing voice now rends the yielding air, "For judgment, judgment, fons of men prepare!" Earth shakes anew; I hear her groans profound; And hell through all her trembling realms refound. 200 Whoe'er thou art, thou greateft power of earth, Bleft with most equal planets at thy birth; Whofe valour drew the most fuccefsful fword, Moft realms united in one common lord; Who, on the day of triumph, faidit, Be thine The skies, Jehovah, all this world is mine: Dare not to lift thine eye-Alas! my Mufe,
How art thou loft! what numbers canft thou chufe?
A fudden blush inflames the waving sky,
And now the crimfon curtains open fly;
Lo! far within, and far above all height,
Where heaven's great Sovereign reigns in worlds of light,
Whence nature He informs, and with one ray
Shot from his eye, does all her works furvey,
Creates, supports, confounds! Where time, and place, 215
Matter, and form, and fortune, life, and grace,
Wait humbly at the footstool of their God,
And move obedient at his awful nod;
Whence he beholds us vagrant emmets crawl
At random on this air-fufpended ball
(Speck of creation): if he pour one breath,
The bubble breaks, and 'tis eternal death.
Thence ifluing I behold (but mortal fight
Suftains not fuch a rushing sea of light!)
I fee, on an empyreal flying throne
Sublimely rais'd, Heaven's everlasting SON;
Crown'd with that majefty which form'd the world,
And the grand rebel flaming downward hurl'd.
Virtue, dominion, praife, omnipotence,
Support the train of their triumphant prince.
A zone, beyond the thought of angels bright,
Around him, like the zodiac, winds its light.
Night fhades the folemn arches of his brows,
And in his cheek the purple morning glows.
Where-e'er ferene he turns propitious eyes,
Or we expect, or find, a paradife:
But if refentment reddens their mild beams,
The Eden kindles, and the world 's in flames.
On one hand, Knowlege fhines in pureft light;
On one, the fword of Juftice, fiercely bright.
Now bend the knee in sport, present the reed;
Now tell the fcourg'd Impoftor he shall bleed!
Thus glorious through the courts of heaven, the source Of life and death eternal bends his courfe;
Loud thunders round him roll, and lightnings play; 245
Th' angelic hoft is rang'd in bright array:
Some touch the ftring, fome ftrike the founding fhell,
And mingling voices in rich concert fwell;
Voices feraphic; bleft with fuch a ftrain,
Could Satan hear, he were a god again.
Triumphant King of GLORY! Soul of Blifs!
What a ftupendous turn of fate is this?
O! whither art thou rais'd above the fcorn
And indigence of him in Bethlem born;
A needlefs, helplefs, unaccounted, guest,
And but a fecond to the fodder'd beaft?
How chang'd from him, who meekly prostrate laid,
Vouchfaf'd to wath the feet himself had made?
From him who was betray'd, forfook, deny'd,
Wept, languish'd, pray'd, bled, thirfted, groan'd, and
Hung pierc'd and bare, insulted by the foe,
All heaven in tears above, earth unconcern'd below?
And was 't enough to bid the Sun retire?
Why did not Nature at thy groan expire?
I fee, I hear, I feel, the pangs divine;,
The world is vanish'd-I am wholly thine.
Miftaken Caiaphas! Ah! which blasphem'd;
Thou, or thy Prifoner? which fhall be condemn'd?
Well might'ft thou rend thy garments, well exclaim;
Deep are the horrors of eternal flame!.
But God is good! 'Tis wondrous all! Ev'n He
Thou gav'ft to death, shame, torture, dy'd for Thee.
Now the defcending triumph ftops its flight
From earth full twice a planetary height.
There all the clouds condens'd, two columns raise 275
Diftinct with orient veins and golden blaze.
One fix'd on earth, and one in fea, and round
Its ample foot the fwelling billows found.
Thefe an immeafurable arch fupport,
The grand tribunal of this awful court
Sheets of bright azure, from the pureft sky,
Stream from the crystal arch, and round the columns fly.
Death, wrapt in chains, low at the bafis lies,
And on the point of his own arrow dies.
Here high enthron'd th' eternal Judge is plac'd, 285 With all the grandeur of his Godhead grac'd;
Stars on his robes in beauteous order meet,
And the fun burns beneath his awful feet.
Now an archangel eminently bright,
From off his filver staff of wondrous height,
Unfurls the Chriftian flag, which waving flies,
And shuts and opens more than half the fkies:
The Crofs fo ftrong a red, it sheds a stain,
Where-e'er it floats, on earth, in air, or main;
Flushes the hill, and fets on fire the wood,
And turns the deep-dy'd ocean into blood.
Oh formidable GLORY! dreadful bright!
Refulgent torture to the guilty fight.
Ah turn, unwary Mufe, nor dare reveal
What horrid thoughts with the polluted dwell.
Say not, (to make the Sun fhrink in his beam)
Dare not affirm, they with it all a dream;
Wish, or their fouls may with their limbs decay,
Or GOD be fpoil'd of his eternal sway.
But rather, if thou know'ft the means, unfold
How they with tranfport might the fcene behold.
Ah how! but by Repentance, by a mind
Quick, and fevere its own offence to find?
By tears, and groans, and never-ceafing care,
And all the pious violence of Prayer?
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