The

DYING CHRISTIAN

To his SOUL.

ODE2.

I.

ITAL fpark of heav'nly flame,
Quit, oh quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,
Oh the pain, the blifs of dying!
Ceafe, fond Nature, cease thy ftrife,
And let me languish into life.

II.

Hark! they whisper; Angels say,
Sifter Spirit, come away.

What is this absorbs me quite?

Steals my fenfes, fhuts my fight,

Drowns my fpirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death?

NOTES.

a This Ode was written in imitation of the famous fonnet of Hadrian to his departing foul; but as much fuperior to his original, in fenfe and fublimity, as the Chriftian Religion is to the Pagan.

III.

The world reeedes; it disappears!
Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears
With founds. feraphic rings:
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O Grave! where is thy victory?
→ Death! where is thy Sting?

FINIS.