To fix the foul on God; to teach the mind
To know the dignity of human-kind;
By ftricter rules well-govern'd life to scan,
And practife o'er the angel in the man.
TO A LADY, WITH THE LAST DAY.
HERE, facred truths, in lofty numbers told,
The profpect of a future ftate unfold:
The realms of night to mortal view display,
And the glad regions of eternal day.
This daring author fcorns, by vulgar ways
Of guilty wit, to merit worthless praise.
Full of her glorious theme, his towering Mufe,
With gen'rous zeal, a nobler fame pursues:
Religion's caufe her ravish'd heart inspires,
And with a thousand bright ideas fires;
Transports her quick, impatient, piercing eye,
O'er the ftrait limits of mortality,
To boundless orbs, and bids her fearless foar,
Where only Milton gain'd renown before;
Where various fcenes alternately excite
Amazement, pity, terror, and delight.
Thus did the Mufes fing in early times,
Ere fkill'd to flatter vice, and varnish crimes:
Their lyres were tun'd to virtuous fongs alone,
And the chaste poet, and the priest, were one.
But now, forgetful of their infant state,
They footh the wanton pleasures of the great:
And from the prefs, and the licentious stage,
With luscious poison taint the thoughtless age;
Deceitful charms attract our wondering eyes,
And fpecious ruin unfufpected lics.
So the rich foil of India's blooming fhores,
Adorn'd with lavith nature's choiceft ftores,
Where ferpents lurk, by flowers conceal'd from fight,
Hides fatal danger under gay delight.
Thefe purer thoughts from grofs alloys refin'd,
With heavenly raptures elevate the mind:
Not fram'd to raise a giddy fhort-liv'd joy,
Whofe falfe allurements, while they please, deftroy;
But blifs refembling that of Saints above,
Sprung from the vifion of th' Almighty Love:
Firm, folid blifs, for ever great and new,
The more 'tis known, the more admir'd, like you;
Like you, fair nymph, in whom united meet
Endearing fweetnefs, unaffected wit,
And all the glories of your sparkling race, While inward virtues heighten every grace. By thefe fecur'd, you will with pleafure read "Of future judgment, and the rifing dead; "Of time's grand period, heaven and earth o'erthrown; "And gafping nature's laft tremendous groan." Thefe, when the stars and fun fhall be no more, Shall beauty to your ravag'd form restore : Then fhall you fhine with an immortal ray, Improv'd by death, and brighten'd by decay.
ON HIS LAST DAY AND UNIVERSAL PASSION.
ND muft it be as thou haft fung,
A celeftial bard, feraphic Young?
Will there no trace, no point be found
Of all this fpacious glorious round?
Yon lamps of light, muft they decay?
On nature's felf, deftruction prey?
Then fame, the most immortal thing
Ev'n thou canst hope, is on the wing.
Shall Newton's System be admir'd,
When time and motion are expir'd?
Shall fouls be curious to explore
Who rul'd an orb that is no more?
Or fhall they quote the pictur'd age,
From Pope's and Thy corrective
page,
When vice and virtue lofe their name
In deathless joy, or endless fhame?
While wears away the grand machine,
The works of genius shall be seen :
Beyond, what laurels can there be,
For Homer, Horace, Pope, or Thee?
Through life we chase, with fond pursuit,
What mocks our hope, like Sodom's fruit :
And fure, thy plan was well defign'd,
To cure this madness of the mind;
First, beyond time our thoughts to raise ;
Then lash our love of tranfient praise.
In both, we own thy doctrine juft;
And fame's a breath, and men are duft.
"Ipfe pater, media nimborum in nocte, corufca "Fulmina molitur dextra. Quo maxima motu "Terra tremit: fugêre feræ! et mortalia corda "Per gentes humilis ftravit pavor."
HILE others fing the fortune of the Great;
Empire and Arms, and all the pomp of State;
With Britain's Hero* fet their fouls on fire,
And grow immortal as his deeds inspire;
I draw a deeper scene: a scene that yields
A louder trumpet, and more dreadful fields ;
The world alarm'd, both earth and heaven o'erthrown,
And gafping nature's last tremendous groan;
Death's antient fceptre broke, the teeming tomb,
The righteous Judge, and man's eternal doom.
'Twixt joy and pain I view the bold design,
And ask my anxious heart, if it be mine.
Whatever great or dreadful has been done
Within the fight of conscious stars or fun,
Is far beneath my daring: I look down
On all the fplendors of the British crown.
* The Duke of Marlborough.
This globe is for my verse a narrow bound;
Attend me, all ye glorious worlds around!
O all ye angels, howfoe'er disjoin'd,
Of every various order, place, and kind,
Hear, and affift, a feeble mortal's lays;
'Tis our Eternal King I strive to praise.
But chiefly Thou, great Ruler! Lord of all!
Before whose throne Arch-angels proftrate fall;
If at thy nod, from difcord, and from night,
Sprang beauty, and yon fparkling worlds of light,
Exalt e'en me; all inward tumults quell;
The clouds and darkness of my mind dispel;
To my great fubject Thou my breast inspire,
And raise my labouring foul with equal fire.
Man, bear thy brow aloft, view every grace In God's great offspring, beauteous nature's face: See fpring's gay bloom; fee golden autumn's store ; See how earth fmiles, and hear old ocean roar. Leviathans but heave their cumberous mail, It makes a tide, and wind-bound navies fail. Here, forefts rife, the mountain's awful pride; Here, rivers measure climes, and worlds divide; There, vallies fraught with gold's refplendent feeds, Hold kings, and kingdoms fortunes, in their beds: 40 There, to the skies, afpiring hills afcend, And into diftant lands their fhades extend. View cities, armies, fleets; of fleets the pride, See Europe's law, in Albion's channel ride. View the whole earth's vaft landfkip unconfin'd, Or view in Britain all her glories join'd.
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