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Caught at a court; parg'd off by purer air,
And fimpler diet; gifts of rural life!

Bleft be that hand divine, which gently laid 80
My heart at rest, beneath this humble fhed.
The world 's a stately bark, on dangerous seas,
With pleasure seen, but boarded at our peril;
Here, on a fingle plank, thrown safe ashore,
I hear the tumult of the distant throng,

$ As that of seas remote, or dying storms: And meditate on fcenes, more filent still; Pursue my theme, and fight the Fear of Death. Here, like a fhepherd gazing from his hut, Touching his reed, or leaning on his staff, 90 Eager ambition's a fiery chace I fee; I see the circling hunt, of noisy men, Burst law's inclosure, leap the mounds of right, Pursuing, and pursued, each other's prey ; As wolves, for rapine ; as the fox, for wiles ; Till Death, that mighty hunter, earths them all.

Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour ? What though we wade in wealth, or foar in fame? Earth's highest station ends in, “ Here he lies,” And “ duft to dus” concludes her nobleft fong. If this song lives, pofterity ihal know One, though in Britain born, with courtiers bred, Who thought ev’n gold might come a day too late ; Nor on his fubtle death-bed plann'd his scheme For future vacancies in church or state;

103 Some avocation deeming it to die, VOL. LXI.

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Unbit by rage canine of dying rich;
Guilt's blunder! and the loudeft laugh of hel!.

O my coevals ! remnants of yourselves !
Poor human ruins, tottering o'er the grave !
Shall we, shall aged men, like aged trees,
Strike deeper their vile root, and closer cling,
Still more enamour'd of this wretched foil ?
Shall our pale, wither'd hands, be still stretch'd out,
Trembling, at once, with eagerness and age ? 115
With avarice and convulsions, grasping hard ?
Grasping at air ! for what has earth beside ?
Man wants but little ; nor that little, long ;
How soon must he resign his very duft,
Which frugal nature lent him for an hour !
Years unexperienc'd rush on numerous ills ;
And soon as man, expert from time, has found
The key of life, it opes the gates of death.

When in this vale of years I backward look, And miss such numbers, numbers too of such,

125 Firmer in health, and greener in their age, And stricter on their guard, and fitter far, To play life's subtle game, I scarce believe I still survive: and am I fond of life, Who scarce can think it possible, I live?

130 Alive by 'miracle ! or, what is next, Alive by Mead! if I am still alive, Who long have bary'd what gives life to live, Firmress of nerve, and

energy of thought. Life's iee is not more shallow, than impure,

135 And

And vapid; Sense and Reason fhew the door,
Call for my bier, and point me to the dust.

O thou great arbiter of life and death!
Nature's immortal, immaterial fun !
Whose all-prolific beam late callid me forth 140
From darkness, teeming darkness, where I lay
The worm's inferior, and, in rank, beneath
The duft I tread on, high to bear my brow,
To drink the spirit of the golden day,
And triumph in existence; and could know 145
No motive, but my bliss; and haft ordain'd
A rise in blefling! with the Patriarch's joy,
Thy call I follow to the land unknown;
I trust in thee, and know in whom I trust;
Or life, or death, is equal; neither weighs: 15
All weight in this-0 let me live to thee!

Though nature's terrors, thus, may be represt; Still frowns grim Death; guilt points the tyrant's spear. And whence all human guilt? From death forgot. Ah me! too long I set at nought the swarm 155 Of friendly warnings, which around me flew; And smild, unsmitten: small my cause to smile! Death's admonitions, like Niafts upwards shot, More dreadful by delay, the longer ere They strike our hearts, the deeper is their wound ; 160 O think how deep, Lorenzo ! here it stings: Who can appease its anguish ? how it burns ! What hand the barb’d, invenom’d, thought can draw? What healing hand can pour the balm of peace, And turn my sight undaunted on the tomb ? 165

Winn

With joy,--with grief, that healing hand I fee;
Ah! too conspicuous ! it is fix'd on high.
On high ?—What means my phrenzy ? I blafpheme;
Alas ! how low! how far beneath the fkies !
The skies it form’d; and now it bleeds for me 170
But bleeds the balm I want-Yet still it bleeds ;
Draw the dire steelmah no! the dreadful blessing
What heart or can sustain, or dares forego ?
There hangs all human hope ; that nail supports
The falling universe : that gone, we drop; 175
Horror receives us, and the dismal wish
Creation had been fmother'd in her birth
Darkness is his curtain, and his bed the duft;
When stars and fun are duft beneath his throne !
In heaven itself can such indulger dwell ?

180
O what a groan was there ! a groan not His.
He feiz'd our dreadful right; the load sustain d ;
And heav'd the mountain from a guilty world.
A thousand worlds, so bought, were bought too dear;
Sensations new in angels bosoms rise;
Suspend their song ; and make a pause in bliss.

O for their song; to reach my lofty theme !
Inspire me, Night! with all thy tuneful fpheres;
Whilft I with seraphs fhare seraphie themes,
And Thew to men the dignity of man;

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Left I blafpheme my subject with my fong.
Shall pagan pages glow celeftial Aame,
And chriftian languish? on our hearts, not heads,
Falls the foul infamy: my heart! awake.
What can awake thee, unawak'd by this, 195

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Expended deity on human weal » Feel the great truths, which burst the tenfold night Of heathen error, with a golden flood Of endless day: to feel, is to be fir'd; And to believe, Lorenzo ! is to feel.

Thou moft indulgent, most tremendous Power! Still more tremendous, for thy wondrous love! That arms, which awe more awful, thy commands ; And foul transgression dips in sevenfold night! How our hearts tremble at thy love immenfe! 205 la love immense, inviolably just!

Thou, rather than thy justice should be ftain’d, Didft ftain the Cross; and work of wonders far The greatest, that thy deareft far might bleed.

Bold thought ! shall I dare speak it, or repress i 210 Should man more execrate, or boast, the guilo Which rous’d such.vengeance? which such love inflam'd? O'er guilt (how mountainous !), with out-stretch'd arms; Stern justice and soft-smiling love embrace, Supporting, in full majesty, thy throne,

11S When seem'd its majesty to need support, Or that, or man, inevitably lost; What, but the fathomless of thought divine, Could labour such expedient from despair, And rescue both ? both rescue! both exalt ! O how are both exalted by the deed! The wondrous deed! or shall I call it more? A wonder in Omnipotence itself! A mystery no less to gods than men !

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