So peaceful rests, without a stone, a name, What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame. How lov’d, how honour'd once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot; . A heap of duft alone remains of thee, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud thall be! . - Poets themselves must fall, like those they sung, Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue. Ev'n he, whose foul now melts in mournful lays, Shall shortly want the gen'rous tear he pays; Then from his closing eyes thy form shall part, And the last pang shall tear thee from his heart; Life's idle bufiness at one gasp be o’er, The Muse forgot, and thou belov'd no more!
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THESE are thy glorious work, Parent of good!
Almighty! thine this universal frame, Thus wond'rous fair! thyself how wondrous then! Unspeakable! who fitt'st above these heav'ns, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowlieft works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine, Speak ye who best can tell, ye fons of light, Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heav'n, On earth join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him laft, him midit, and without end.
Fairefi
Fairest of stars, laft in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'd the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou fun, of this great world both eye and soul, Acknowledge him thy greater; found his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'it, And when high noon haft gain'd, and when thou fall'it. Moon that now meets the orient fun, now fly'it With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies; And ye five other wand'ring fires, that move In myitic dance not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix, And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise From hill or itreaming lakė, duky or grey, Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honcur to the world's great Author rise, . Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky, Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, Breath soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines, With every plant, in sign of worship wave. Fountains, and ye, that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices all ye living fouls ; ye birds,
That singing up to heaven-gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep; Witness if I be filent, morn or even, To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Hail, universal Lord; be bounteous still To give us only good; and if the night Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceald, Disperse it, as now light difpels the dark.
MILTON,
CH A P. VI. SATAN'S SOLILOQU Y.
THOU that, with surpassing glory crown'd,
Look’it from thy sole dominion like the god Of this new world ; al whose fight all the stars Hide their diminish'd heads; to thee I call, But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, O fun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere; Till pride, and worse ambition threw me down, " Warring in heav'n against heav'ns matchless King. Ah, wherefore ? he deserv’d no such return From me, whom he created what I was In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none; nor was his service hard. What could be less, than to afford him praise, The easiest recompence, and pay him, thanks, '.;. ,
* How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me, And wrought but malice : lifted up so high I'ldain’d subjection, and thought ane step higher Would set me high'ft, and in a moment quit The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burdensome, ftill paying, still to owe; Forgetful what from him I still receiv’d; And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharged; what burthen then? O had his pow'rful destiny ordain'd Me some inferior angel, I had stood Then happy; no unbounded hope had rais’d Ambition. Yet why not? some other power As great might have aspir'd, and me though mean Drawn to his part; but other pow'rs as great Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within Or from without, to all temptations arm’d. Hadst thou the same free will and pow'r to stand ? Thou hadít. Whom haft thou then, or what t'accuse, But Heav'n's free love, dealt equally to all ? Be then his love accurs’d, since love or hate, To me alike, it deals eternal woe. Nay curs'd be thou ; fince against his thy will Chose freely what it now so justly rues. Me miserable! which way shall I Ay Infinite wrath, and infinite despair? Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell; And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep Still threat’ning to devour me opens wide, To which the hell I suffer feems a heaven. O then at last relent: is there no place
Left
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Left for repentance, none for pardon left ?. None left but by submission; and that word Disdain forbids me, and my dread of thame Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduc'd With other promises, and other vaunts, Than to submit, boasting I could subdue Th’Omnipotent. Ah me, they little know How dearly I abide that boast so vain, Under, what torments inwardly I groan, While they adore me on the throne of hell : With diadem and fceptre high advanc'd,, The lower itill I fall, only supreme In misery: such joy ambition finds., But say. I could repent, and could obtain, By act of grace, my former state ; how foon Would height recall high thoughts, how.soon unsay What feign’d submiffion swore ! ease would recant. Vows made in pain, as violent and void ; For never can true reconcilement grow Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep Which would but lead us to a worse relapse, And heavier fall: fo should I purchase dear Short intermission, bought with double smart. This knows my punisher : therefore as far From granting he, as I from begging peace : All hope excluded thus, behold instead Of us outcast, exil'd, his new delight, Mankind created, and for him this world. So farewel hope, and with hope farewel fear, Farewel remorse ; all good to me is loft; Evil be thou my good : by thee at least Divided empire with heav'n's King I hold,
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