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13. Through all Eternity to Thee
A joyful Song I'll raise;
For O! Eternity's too fhort
To utter all thy Praise.





ATHER of all! in every Age,
In every Clime ador'd,


By Saint, by Savage, and by Sage,

Thou great first Cause, least understood,
Who all my Senfe confin'd,

To know but this, that thou art good,
And that myself am blind!

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4. What Conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do;

This teach me more than Hell to shun,
That more than Heav'n pursue.

5. What Bleffings thy free Bounty gives, Let me not caft away;

For GoD is paid when Man receives
To enjoy is to obey.

6. Yet not to Earth's contracted Span, Thy Goodness let me bound,

Or think Thee LORD alone of Man,
When thousand Worlds are round.

7. Let not this weak unknowing Hand
Prefume thy Bolts to throw,
And deal Damnation round the Land
On each I judge thy Foe.

8. If I am right, oh teach my Heart,
Still in the Right to stay :

If I am wrong, thy Grace impart
To find that better Way!

9. Save me a like from foolish Pride,
Or impious Difcontent,
At ought thy Wisdom has deny'd,
Or ought thy Goodness lent.

10. Teach me to feel another's Woe;
To hide the Fault I fee;
That Mercy I to others show,
That Mercy fhow to me.

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Mean tho' I am, not wholly fo,


Since quicken'd by thy Breath
Oh lead me wherefoe'er I go,
Thro' this Day's Life or Death.


12. This Day, be Bread and Peace my
All elfe beneath the Sun,
Thou know'ft if beft beftow'd, or not;
And let thy Will be done.

13. To thee, whofe Temple is all Space, Whofe Altar, Earth, Sea, Skies,


. One Chorus let all Beings raife! All Nature's Incenfe rife.


A facred Eclogue, compos'd of feveral Paffages of Ifaiah the Prophet.

Written in Imitation of Virgil's POLLIO.

E Nymphs of Solyma! begin the Song: To heav'nly Themes fublimer Strains belong. The Moffy Fountains and the Sylvan Shades, The Dreams of Pindus and th' Aonian Maids, Delight no more-O thou my Voice inspire, Who touch'd Ifaiah's hallow'd Lips with Fire!

Rapt into future Times, the Bard begun, A Virgin fhall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son! From Jeffe's Root behold a Branch arise, Whofe facred Flow'r with Fragrance fills the Skies. Th' ætherial Spirit o'er its Leaves shall move, And on its Top defcends the Mystic Dove. Ye Heav'ns! from high the dewy Nectar pour, And in foft Silence fhed the kindly show'r ! The Sick and Weak the healing Plant shall aid, From Storms a Shelter, and from Heat a Shade. All Crimes fhall ceafe, and ancient Fraud fhall fail; Returning Juftice lift aloft her Scale;

Peace o'er the World her Olive Wand extend, And white-rob'd Innocence from Heav'n defcend, Swift fy the Years, and rife th' expected Morn! Oh fpring to Light, aufpicious Babe be born!


See Nature haftes her earliest Wreathes to bring, With all the Incense of the breathing Spring: See lofty Lebanon his Head advance,

See nodding Forefts on the Mountains dance, See fpicy Clouds from lowly Saron rife, And Carmel's flow'ry Top perfumes the Skies! Hark! a glad Voice the lonely Defart chears; Prepare the Way! a GoD, a GOD appears! A GOD, a GOD! the vocal Hills reply, The Rocks proclaim th' approaching Deity. Lo Earth receives him from the bending Skies! Sink down ye Mountains, and ye Vallies rife : With Heads declin'd, ye Cedars, Homage pay; Be fmooth ye Rocks, ye rapid Floods give Way! The Saviour comes! by ancient Bards foretold; Hear him ye Deaf, and all ye Blind behold! He from thick Films fhall purge the visual Ray, And on the fightless Eye-ball pour the Day. "Tis he th' obftructed Paths of Sound fhall clear, And bid new Mufick charm th' unfolding Ear. The Dumb fhall fing, the Lame his Crutch forego,

And leap exulting like the bounding Roe.

No Sigh, no Murmur the wide World shall hear,
From every Face he wipes off ev'ry Tear.
In adamantine Chains fhall Death be bound,
And Hell's grim Tyrant feel th' eternal Wound.
As the good Shepherd tends his fleecy Care,
Seeks freshest Paftures and the purest Air,
Explores the loft, the wand'ring Sheep directs,
By Day o'er fees them, ana by Night protects;
The tender Lambs he raises in his Arms,
Feeds from his Hand, and in his Bofom warms:


Mankind fhall thus his Guardian Care engage,
The promis'd Father of the future Age.
No more shall Nation against Nation rife,
Nor ardent Warriors meet with hateful Eyes,
Nor Fields with gleaming Steel be cover'd o'er,
The brazen Trumpets kindle Rage no more;
But ufelefs Lances into Scythes shall bend,
And the broad Faulchion in a Plow-share end.
Then Palaces fhall rife; the joyful Son
Shall finish what his short-liv'd Sire begun ;
Their Vines a Shadow to their Race shall yield,
And the fame Hand that fow'd shall reap the Field.
The Swain in barren Defarts with Surprize
Sees Lillies fpring, and fudden Verdure rise,
And starts amidst the thirsty Wilds to hear
New Falls of Water murm'ring in his Ear:
On rifted Rocks, the Dragon's late abodes,
The green Reed trembles, and the Bulrufh nods.
Waste fandy Vallies, once perplex'd with Thorn,
The fpiry Fir and fhapely Box adorn;
The leafless Shrubs the flow'ring Palms fucceed,
And od❜rous Myrtle to the noisome Weed. [Mead,
The Lambs with Wolves fhall graze the verdant
And Boys in flow'ry Bands the Tyger lead;
The Steer and Lion at one Crib fhall meet,
And harmless Serpents lick the Pilgrim's Feet.
The fmiling Infant in his Hand fhall take
The crefted Bafilifk and fpeckled Snake;
Pleas'd, the green Luftre of the Scales furvey,
And with their forky Tongue and pointless Sting
fhall play.

Rife, crown'd with Light, imperial Salem rife!
Exalt thy tow'ry Head, and lift thy Eyes!


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