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A gentle tear; with mattock in his hand [ance Of a span long, that never saw the sun,
Digs thro' whole rows of kindred and acquaint-Nor press'd the nipple, strangled in life's porch
By far his juniors! scarce a scull's cast up,
But well he knew its owner, and can tell
Some passage of his life. Thus hand in hand,
The sot has walk'd with death twice twentyyears;
Andyet ne'eryounker on the green laughs louder,
Or clubs a smuttier tale; when drunkards meet,
None sings a merrier catch, or lends a hand [not
More willing to his cup. Poor wretch! he minds
That soon some trusty brother of the trade
Shall do for him what he has done for thousands.
On this side, and on that, men see their friends
Drop off, like leaves in autumn; yet launch out
Into fantastic schemes, which three long livers
In the world's hale and undegen'rate days
Could scarce have leisure for; fools that we are:
Never to think of death and of ourselves
At the same tinie! as if to learn to die
Were no concern of ours. O more than
For creatures of a day, in gamesome mood
To frolic on eternity's dread brink,
Unapprehensive; when for aught we know
The very first swoln surge shall sweep us in.
Think we, or think we not, time hurries on
With a resistless unremitting stream,
Yet treads more soft than e'er did midnight thief,
That slides his hand under the miser's pillow,
And carries off his prize. What is this world?
What but a spacious burial-field unwall'd,
Strew'd with death's spoils, the spoils of animals,
Savage and taine, and full of dead men's bones?
The very turf on which we tread once liv'd ;
And we that live must lend our carcases
To cover our own offspring in their turns
They too must cover theirs. "Tis here all mect!
The shiv'ring Icelander, and sun-burnt Moor;
Men of all climes, that never met before;
And of all creeds, the Jew, the Turk, the Christian.
Here the proud prince, and favourite yet prouder,
His sovereign's keeper, and the people's scourge,
Are huddled out of sight. Here lie abash'd
The great negotiators of the earth,
And celebrated masters of the balance,
Deep read in stratagems, and wiles of courts :
Now vain their treaty-skill! Death scorns to treat.
Here the o'erloaded slave flings down his burthen
From his gall'd shoulders; and when the cruel
Here is the mother with her sons and daughters;
The barren wife: the long-demurring maid,
Whose lonely unappropriated sweets
Smil'd like yon knot of cowslips on the cliff,
Not to be come at by the willing hand.
Here are the prude severe, and gay coquette,
The sober widow, and the young green virgin,
Cropp'd like a rose before 'us fully blown,
Orhalf its worth disclos'd. Strange medley here!
Here garrulous old age winds up his tale;
And jovial youth, of lightsome vacant heart,
Whose ev'ry day was made of melody, [shrew,
Hears not the voice of mirth; the shrill-tongued
Meek as the turtle-dove, forgets her chiding.
Here are the wise, the gen'rous, and the brave;
The just, the good, the worthless, the profane,
The downright clown, and perfectly well-bred,
sottish!The fool, the churl, the scoundrel, and the mean,
The supple statesman, and the patriot stern;
The wrecks of nations, and the spoils of time,
With all the lumber of six thousand years.
With all his guards and tools of pow'r about him
Is meditating new unheard-of hardships,
Mocks his short arm, andquick as thoughtescapes,
Where tyrants vex not, and the weary rest.
Here the warın lover, leaving the cool shade,
The tell-tale echo, and the bubbling stream,
Time out of mind the fav'rite seats of love,
Fast by his gentle mistress lays him down
Unblasted by foul tongue. Here friends and foes
Lie close, unmindful of their former feuds.
The lawn-rob'd prelate, and plain presbyter,
Ere while that stood aloof, as shy to meet,
Familiar mingle here, like sister-streams
That some rude interposing rock had split.
Poor man! how happy once in thy first state!
When yet but warm from thy great Maker's hand,
Hestamp'd thee with his image, and well pleas'd
Smil'd on his last fair work! Then all was well.
Sound was the body, and the soul serene;
Like two sweet instruments ne'er out of tune,
That play their several parts Norhead, nor heart,
Offer'd to ache; nor was their cause they should,
For all was pure within: no fell remorse,
Nor anxious castings up of what may be,
Alarm'd his peaceful bosom: suminer seas
Shew not more smooth when kiss'd by southern
Just ready to expire. Scarce importun'd, [winds,
The gen'rous soil with a luxuriant hand
Offer'd the various produce of the year,
And ev'ry thing most perfect in its kind.
Blessed, thrice blessed days! but ah, how short!
Bless'd as the pleasing dreams of holy men,
But fugitive, like those, and quickly gone.
O slippery state of things! What sudden turns,
What strange vicissitudes, in the first leaf
Of man's sad history! to-day most happy ;
And, cre to-morrow's sun has set, most äbject!
How cant the space between these vast extremes!
Thard it with our Sire: not long he enjoy'd
His paradise! scarce had the happy tenant
of the fair spot due time to prove its sweets,
Or sum them up, when straight he must be gone,
Ne'er to return again. And must he go?
Can nought compound for the first dire offence
Of erring man? Like one that is condemn'd,
Fain would he trifle time with idle talk,
And parley with his fate. But 'tis in vain.
Not all the lavish odours of the place,
Offer'd in incense, can procure his pardon,
Or mitigate his doom. A mighty angel
With flaming sword forbids his longer stay,
And drives the loit'rer forth; nor must he take
At once he lost.
Here is the large-limb'd peasant; here the chine last and farewel round.
His glory and his God. If mortal now,
And sorely maim'd, no wonder! Man has sinn'd.
Sick of his bliss, and bent on new adventures,
Evil he would needs try: nor tried in vain.
(Dreadful experiment! destructive measure!
Where the worst thing could happen, is success.)
Alas! too well he sped: the good he scorn'd
Stalk'd off reluctant, like an ill-us'd ghost,
Not to return; or, if it did, its visits
Like those of angels short, and far between:
Admitted once into its better room,
Grew loud and mutinous, nor would be gone;
Lording it o'er the man, who now too late
Saw the rash error which he could not mend;
An error fatal not to him alone,
But to his future sous, his fortune's heirs.
Inglorious bondage! human nature groans
Beneath a vassalage so vile and cruel,
And its vast body bleeds through ev'ry vein.
What havock hastthoumade, foulmonster,Sin!
Greatest and first of ills! the fruitful parent
Of woes of all dimensions! but for thee
Sorrow had never been. All noxious things
Orvilest nature, other sorts of evils,
Are kindly circumscrib'd, and have their bounds.
The fierce volcano, from its burning entrails
That belches molten stone and globes of fire,
Juvolv'd in pitchy clouds of smoke and stench,
Mars the adjacent fields for some leagues round,
And there it stops. The big-swoln inundation,
Of mischief more diffusive, raving loud,
Buries whole tracts of country, threat'ning more;
But that too has its shore it cannot pass..
More dreadful far than these, Sin has laid waste,
Not here and there a country, but a world;
Dispatching at a wide-extended blow
Entire mankind, and for their sakes defacing
A whole creation's beauty with rude hands;
Blasting the fruitful grain, the loaded branches,
And marking all along its way with ruin.
Accursed thing! O where shall fancy find
A proper name to call thee by, expressive
Of all thy horrors? pregnant womb of ills!
Of temper so transcendantly malign,
That toads and serpents of most deadly kind
Compar'd to thee are harmless. Sicknesses
Of ev'ry size and symptom, racking pains,
And bluest plagues are thine! See how the fiend
Profusely scatters the contagion round eels,
Whilst deep-mouth'd slaughter, bellowing at her
Wades deep in blood new spilt; yet for to-morrow
Shapes out new work of great uncommon daring,
And inly pines till the dread blow is struck.
But hold! I've gone too far; too much discover'd
My father's nakedness, and nature's shame.
Here let me pause! and drop an honest tear,
One burst of filial duty, and condolence,
O'er all those ample deserts Death has spread,
This chaos of mankind. O great man-eater!
Whose ev'ry day is carnival! not sated yet!
Unhead-of epicure! without a fellow!
The veriest gluttons do not always cram;
Some intervals of abstinence are sought
To edge the appetite: thou seckest none.
And thousands that each hour thou gobblest up,
This, less than this, might gorge thee to the full.
But, ah! rapacious still, thou gap'st for more:
Like one, whole days defrauded of his meals,
On whom lank hunger lays his skinny hand,
And whets to keenest eagerness his cravings
(As if Diseases, Massacres, and Poison,
Famine, and War, were not thy caterers)!
But know that thou must render up the dead,
And with high interest too! they are not thine;
But only in thy keeping for a season,
Till the great proniis'd day of restitution;
When loud diffusive sound from brazen trump
Ofstrong-lung'd cherub shall alarm thy captives,
And rouse the long, long sleepers into life,
Day-light, and liberty.-
Then must thy gates fly open, and reveal
The mines that lay long forming under ground,
In their dark cells immur'd; but now full ripe,
And pure as silver from the crucible,
That twice has stood the torture of the fire,
And inquisition of the forge. We know,
Th' Illustrious Deliverer of mankind,
The Son of God, thee foil'd. Him in thy pow'r
Thou couldst not hold: self-vigorous he rose,
And, shaking off thy fetters, soon retook
Those spoils his voluntary yielding lent.
(Sure pledge of our releasement from thy thrall!)
Twice twenty days he sojourn'd here on earth,
And show'd himself alive to chosen witnesses
By proofs so strong, that the most slow assenting
Had not a scruple left. This having done,
He mounted up to heav'n. Methinks I see him
Climb the aërial heights, and glide along
Athwart the severing clouds: but the faint eye,
Flung backward in the chace,soon drops its hold,
Disabled quite, and jaded with pursuing.
Heaven's portals wide expand to let him in;
Nor are his friends shut out: as some great prince
Not for himself alone procures admission,
But for his train; it was his royal will,
That where he is, there should his followers ber
Death only lies between! a gloomy path!
Made yet more gloomy by our coward fears!
But not untrod, nor tedious: the fatigue
Will soon go off. Besides, there's no by-road
To bliss. Then why, like ill-conditioned children,
Start we at transient hardships in the way
That leads to purer air and softer skies,
And a ne'er-setting sun? Fools that we are!
We wish to be where sweets unwith'ring blooin;
But strait our wish revoke, and willnot go.
So have I seen, upon a summer's even,
Fast by a riv'let's brink a youngster play!
How wishfully he looks to stem the tide!
This moment resolute, next unresolv'd,
At last he dips his foot; but as he dips
His fears redouble, and he runs away
From th' inoffensive stream, unmindful now
Of all the flow'rs that paint the further bank,
And sunil'd so sweet of late. Thrice welcome
That,after many a painful bleeding step, [Death!
Conducts us to our home, and lands us safe
On the long wish'd-for shore. Prodigious change!
And takes the good without the fall to ill;
Where only Merit constant pay receives,
Is blest in what it takes, and what it gives;
The joy unequal'd if its end it gain,
And, if it lose, attended with no pain:
Without satiety, tho' e'er so bless'd,
And but more relish'd as the more distress'd.
The broadest mirth unfeeling Folly wears,
Less pleasing far than Virtue's very tears:
Good from each object, from each place ac-
For ever exercis'd, yet never tir'd;
Never elated while one man's oppress'd;
Never dejected while another 's bless'd;
And where no warts, no wishes can remain,
Since but to wish more Virtue is to gain.
See! the sole bliss Heav'n could on all bestow, Which who but feels can taste; but thinks, can know:
Yet poor with fortune, and with learning blind,
The bad must miss; the good, untaught, will find;
Slave to no sect, who takes no private road,
But looks thro' Nature up to Nature's God;
Pursues that chain which links th' immense
Our bane turn'd to a blessing! Death disarm'd | The only point where human bliss stands still,
Loses his fellness quite; all thanks to Him
Who scourg'd the venom out! Sure the last end
Of the good man is peace. How calm his exit!
Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground,
Nor weary worn-out winds expire so soft.
Behold him! in the ev'ning tide of life,
A life well-spent, whose early care it was,
His riper years should not upbraid his green :
By unperceiv'd degrees he wears away;
Yet like the sun seems larger at his setting!
High in his faith and hopes, look! how he reaches
After the prize in view! and, like a bird
That's hamper'd, struggles hard to get away!
Whilst the glad gates of sight are wide expanded
To let new glories in, the first fair fruits
Of the fast-coming harvest! Then! O then!
Each earth-born joy grows vile, or disappears,
Shrunk to a thing of nought. O how he longs
To have his passport signed, and be disiniss'd!
'Tis done, and now he's happy! The glad soul
Has not a wish uncrown'd." "Ev'n the lag flesh
Rests too in hope of meeting once again
Its better half, never to sunder more.
Nor shall it hope in vain: the time draws on
When not a single spot of burial earth,
Whether on land, or in the spacious sea,
But must give back its long committed dust
Inviolate and faithfully shall these
Make up the full account; not the least atom
Embezzled, or mislaid, of the whole tale.
Each soul shall have a body ready-furnished;
And each shall have his own. Hence, yeprophane!
Ask not, how this can be? Sure the same pow'r
That rear'd the piece at first, and took it down,
Can re-assemble the loose scatter'd parts,
And put them as they were. Almighty God
Has done much more; nor is his arm impair'd
Thro' length of days; and what he can he will;
His faithfulness stands bound to see it done.
When the dread trumpet sounds, the slumb'ring
Not unattentive to the call, shall wake; [dust,
And ev'ry joint possess its proper place,
With a new elegance of form, unknown
To its first state. Nor shall the conscious soul
Mistake its partner; but amidst the crowd,
Singling its other half, into its arms
Shall rush, with all the impatience of a man
That's new come home, who having long been
With haste runs over ev'ry different room,
In pain to see the whole. Thrice happy meeting!
Nor time, nor death, shall ever part them more.
"Tis but a night; a long and moonless night;
We make the grave our bed, and then are gone.
Thus, at the shut of even, the weary bird
Leaves the wide air, and in some lonely break
Cow'rs down, and doses till the dawn of day;
Then claps his well-fledg'd wings, and bears
$40. Happiness to be found in Virtue alone. Pope. KNOW then this truth (enough for man to "Yirtue alone is Happiness below." [know)
Joins heav'n and carth, and mortal and divine;
Sees, that no being any bliss can know,
But touches some above, and some below;
Learns from this union of the rising whole,
The first, last purpose of the human soul;
And knows where Faith, Law, Morale, all began,
All end in Love of God, and Love of Man.
For him alone, Hope leads from goal to goal,
And opens still, and opens on his soul;
Till lengthen'd on to Faith, and unconfin'd,
pours the bliss that fills up all the mind.
He sees why Nature plants in Man alone
Hope of known bliss, and faith in bliss unknown
(Nature, whose dictates to no other kind
Are giv'n in vain, but what they seek they find).
Wise is her present; she connects in this
His greatest Virtue with his greatest Bliss ;
At once his own bright prospect to be blest,
And strongest motive to assist the rest.
Self-love thus push'd to social, to divine,
Gives thee to make thy neighbour's blessing
Is this too little for the boundless heart? [thine.
Extend it, let thy enemies have part:
Grasp the whole world's of Reason, Life, and
In one close system of Benevolence: [Sense,
Happier as kinder, in whate'er degree,
And height of Bliss but height of Charity.
God loves from Whole to Parts: but human
Must rise from Individual to the Whole. [soul
Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake,
As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake;
The centre mov'd, a circle straight succeeds,
Another still, and still another spreads;
Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace;
His country next; and next all human race:
Wide and more wide, th' o'erflowings of the mind
Take ev'ry creature in, of ev'ry kind;
Earth smiles around, with boundless bounty blest,
And Heav'n beholds its image in his breast.
§41. On the Eternity of the Supreme Being. Smart.
HAIL, wond'rous Being, who in pow'r su
Exists from everlasting! whose great name
Deep in the human heart, and ev'ry atom
The Air, the Earth, or azure Main contains,
In undecypher'd characters is wrote
Incomprehensible!-O what can words,
The weak interpreters of mortal thoughts,
Or what can thoughts (tho' wild of wing they rove
Thro' the vast concave of th' æthereal round)?
If to the Heav'n of Heav'ns they wing their way
Advent'rous, like the birds of night they're lost,
And delug'd in the flood of dazzling day..
May then the youthful, uninspired Bard
Presume to hymn th' Eternal? may he soar
Where Seraph and where Cherubim on high
Resound th' unceasing plaudits, and with them
In the grand chorus mix his feeble voice?
He may-if thou, who from the witless babe
Ordainest honor, glory, strength, and praise,
Uplift th' unpinion'd Muse, and deign'st to assist,
Great Poet of the Universe! his song.
Before this earthly Planet wound her course
Round Light's perennial fountain; before Light
Herself 'gan shine, and at th' inspiring word
Shot to existence in a blaze of day;
Before "the Morning-Stars together sang,"
And hail'd Thee architect of countless worlds;
Thou art-All-glorious, All-beneficent,
All Wisdom and Omnipotence Thou art.
But is the æra of Creation fix'd
At when these worlds began? Could aught retard
Goodness, that knows no bounds, from blessing
Or keep th' immense Artificer in sloth?
Avaunt the dust-directed crawling thought,
That Puissance immeasurably vast,
And Bounty inconceivable, could rest
Content, exhausted with one week of action!
No-in th' exertion of thy righteous pow'r,
Ten thousand times more active than the Sun,
Thou reign'd, and with a mighty hand compos'd
Systems innumerable, matchless all,
All stampt with thine uncounterfeited scal
But yet (if still to more stupendous heights
The Muse unblam'd her aching sense may strain)
Perhaps wrapt up in contemplation deep,
The best of Beings on the noblest theme
Might ruminate at leisure, scope immense !
The Eternal Pow'r and Godhead to explore,
And with itself th' Omniscient Mind replete.
This were enough to fill the boundless All,
This were a Sabbath worthy the Supreme!
Perhaps enthron'd amidst a choicer few
Of spirits inferior, he might greatly plan
The two prime Pillars of the Universe,
Creation and Redemption-and awhile
Pause-with the grand presentiments of glory,
Perhaps but all 's conjecture here below,
All ignorance, and self-plum'd vanity--
Thou, whose ways to wonder at 's distrust,
Whom to describe 's presumption (all we can,
And all we may), be glorified, be prais'd. [rish,
A day shall come when all this earth shall pe-
Nor leave behind ev'n Chaos; it shall come,
When all the armies of the elements
Shall war against themselves, and mutual rage,
To make Perdition triumph; it shall come,
When the capacious atmosphere above
Shall in sulphureous thunders groan, and die,
And vanish into void; the earth beneath
Shall sever to the centre, and devour
Th'enormous blaze of the destructive flames.
Ye rocks that mock the ravings of the floods,
And proudly frown upon th' impatient deep,
Where is yourgrandeur now? Yefoaming waves,
That all along th' immense Atlantic roar,
In vain ye swell; with a few drops suffice
To quench the inextinguishable fire?
Ye mountains, on whose cloud-crown'd tops the
Are lessen'd into shrubs, magnific piles,
That prop the painted chamber of the heavens,
And fix the earth continual; Athos, where?
Where, Tenerif, 's thy stateliness to-day?
What, tua, are thy flames to these? No more
Than the poor glow-worm to the golden sun.
Nor shall the verdant valleys then remain
Safe in their meck submission; they the debt
Of nature and of justice too must pay.
Yet I must weep for you, ye rival fair,
Arno and Andalusia; but for thee
More largely, and with filial tears must weep,
O Albion! O my country! Thou must join,
In vain dissever'd from the rest, must join
The terrors of th' inevitable ruin.
Nor thou, illustrious monarch of the day;
Nor thou, fair queen of night; nor you, ye stars,
Tho' million leagues and million still remote,
Shall yet survive that day; ye must submit,
Sharers, not bright spectators of the scene.
But tho' the Earth shall to the centre perish,
Nor leave behind ev'n Chaos; tho' the air
With all the elements must pass away,
Vain as an idiot's dream; tho' the huge rocks,
That brandish the tall cedars on their tops,
With humbler vales must to perdition yield;
Tho' the gilt sun, and silver tressed-moon,
With all her bright retinue, must be lost:
Yet thou, Great Father of the world, surviv'st
Eternal, as thou wert. Yet still survives
The soul of man immortal, perfect now,
And candidate for unexpiring joys.
He comes! he comes! the awful trump I hear;
The flaming sword's intolerable blaze
I see! He comes! th' Archangel from above.
"Arise, ye tenants of the silent grave,
"Awake incorruptible, and arise :
"From east to west, ftom the Antarctic pole
"To regions Hyperborean, all ye sons,
"Ye sons of Adam, and ye heirs of heaven-
"Arise, ye tenants of the silent grave,
Awake incorruptible, and arise."
'Tis then, nor sooner, that the restless mind Shall find itself at home; and like the ark, Fix'd on the mountain top, shall look aloft
O'er the vague passage of precarious life;
And winds and waves, and rocks and tempests,
Enjoy the everlasting calm of Heaven: [past,
'Tis then, nor sooner, that the deathless soul
Shall justly know its nature and its rise:
Tis then the humantongue, new-tun'd, shall give
Praises more worthy the Eternal ear.
Yet what wecan, weought;-and therefore Thou,
Purge Thou my heart, Omnipotent and good!
Purge Thoumy heart with hyssop, lest, like Cain,
I offer fruitless sacrifice, and with gifts
Offend, and not propitiate the Ador'd.
Tho' Gratitude were blest with all the powers
Her bursting heart could long for; tho' the swift,
The fiery wing'd Imagination soar'd
Beyond Ambition's wish-yet all were vain
To speak him as he is, who is ineffable.
Yet still let Reason thro' the eye of Faith
View him withfearful love; let Truth pronounce,
And Adoration on her bended knee,
With heav'n-directed hands, confess his reign,
And let the angelic, archangelic band,
With all the hosts of Heaven, cherubic forms,
And forms seraphic, with their silver trump
And golden lyres attend :-- For thon art holy,
"For thou art one, th' Eternal. who alone
"Exerts all goodness, and transcends all praise!"
§ 42. On the Immensity of the Supreme Being.
ONCE more I dare to rouse the sounding string,
The Poet of iny God-Awake, my glory,
Awake, my lute and harp-myself shall wake,
Soon as the stately night-exploding bird
In lively lay sings welcome to the dawn.
List ye! how Naturewith ten thousand tongues
Begins the grand thanksgiving, Hail, all hail,
Ye tenants of the forest and the field!
My fellow subjects of th' Eternal King,
I gladly join your matins, and with you
Confess his presence, and report his praise.
O Thou, who or the lambkin, or the dove,
When offer'd by the lowly, meek and poor,
Prefer'st to pride's whole hecatomb, accept
This mean Essay, nor from thy treasure-house
Of glory immense the Orphan's mite exclude
What tho' the Almighty's regal throne be rais'd
High o'er yon azure Heaven's exalted dome,
By mortal eye unkenn'd-where East nor West,
Nor South nor blustering North has breath to
Albeit He therewith angels andwith saints [blow;
Hold conference, and to his radiant host
Ev'n face to face stands visibly confest;
Yet know, that nor in presence or in power
Shines he less perfect here; 'tis man's dim eye
That makes th' obscurity. He is the same;
Alike in all his universe the same.
(Tho' whirling worlds oppose in globes of fire)
Darts, like a javelin, to his distant goal; [vens
Or where in Heaven above, the Heaven of Hea-
Burn brighter suns, and goodlier planets roll
With satellites more glorious-Thou art there.
Or whether on the ocean's boisterous back
Thou ride triumphant, and with outstretch'd arm
Curb the wild winds and discipline the billows,
The suppliant sailor finds Thee there, his chief,
His only help-When Thoa rebuk'st the storm,
It ceases-and the vessel gently glides
Along the glossy level of the calm.
O! could I search the bosom of the sea,
Downthegreat depth descending, there thy works
Would also speak thy residence! and there
Would I, thy servant, like the still profound,
Astonish'd into silence muse thy praise!
Behold! behold! th' unplanted garden round
Of vegetable coral, sea-flowers gay, [tom,
And shrubs of amber from the pearl pav'd bos-
Rise richly varied, where the finny race
In blithe security their gambols play:
While high upon their heads Leviathan,
The terror and the glory of the main,
His pastime takes with transport, proud to see
The ocean's vast dominion all his own.
Hence thro' the genial bowels of the earth
Easy may fancy pass; till at thy mines,
Gani or Raolconda, she arrive,
And from the adamant's imperial blaze
Form weak ideas of her Maker's glory.
Next to Pegu or Ceylon let me rove,
Where the rich ruby (deem'd by sages old
Of sov'reign virtue) sparkles ev'n like Sirus,
And blushics into flames. Thence will I go
To undermine the treasure-fertile womb
Of the huge Pyrenean, to detect
The agate and the deep-intrenched gem
Of kindred jasper-Nature in them both
Delights to play the mimic on herself;
And in their veins she oft pourtrays the forms
Of leaning hills, of trees crect, and streams
Now stealing softly on, now thundering down
In desperate cascade, with flowers and beasts,
And all the living landskip of the vale :
In vain thy pencil, Claudio or Poussin,
Or thine, iminortal Guido, would essay
Such skill to immitate-it is the hand
Of God himself-for God himselfis there.[vance
Hence with th' ascending springs det ine ad-
Thro' beds of magnets, minerals, and spar,
Up to the mountain's summit, there t''indulge
Th' ambition of the comprehensive eye,
That dares to call th' horizon all her own.
Behold the forest, and th' expansive verdure
Of yonder level lawn, whose smooth-shorn sod
No object interrupts, unless the oak
His lordly head uprears, and branching arms
Extends Behold in regal solitude,
And pastoral magnificence, he stands
So simple, and so great, the under-wood
Of meaner rank an awful distance keep.
di-Yet Thou art there, y' God himself is there,
Ev'n on the bush (tho' not as when to Moses
He shone in burning majesty reveal'd.)
Whether the mind along the spangled sky Measures her pathless walk, studious to view The works of vaster fabric, where the planets Weave their harmonious rounds, their march Still faithful, still inconstant, to the sun; [recting Or where the comet, thro' space infinite