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Spread all thy purple clusters, tempting vine,
And thou, more dreaded foe, bright beauty, shine;
Shine all; in all your charms together rise;
That all, in all your charms, I may despise,
While I mount upward on a strong desire,
Borne, like Elijah, in a car of fire.

In hopes of glory to be quite involv'd!
To smile at death! to long to be dissolv'd!
From our decays a pleasure to receive !
And kindle into transport at a grave!
What equals this. And shall the victor now
Boast the proud laurels on his loaded brow?
Religion ! Oh thou cherub, heav'nly bright!
Oh joys unmix'd, and fathomless delight!
'Thou, Thou art all; nor find I in the whole
Creation aught, but God and my own soul.

For ever then, my soul, thy God adore,
Nor let the brute creation praise him more.
Shall things inanimate my conduct blame,
And flush my conscious cheek with spreading shame?
They all for him pursue, or quit, their end;
The mounting flames their burning pow'r suspend;
In solid heaps th' unfrozen billows stand,
To rest and silence aw'd by his command:
Nay, the dire monsters that infeft the flood,
By nature dreadful, and athirst for blood,
His will can calm, their favage tempers bind,
And turn to mild protectors of mankind.
Did not the prophet this great truth maintain
In the deep chambers of the gloomy main ;
When darkness round him all her horrors spread,
And the loud ocean bellow'd o'er his head ?

When now the thunder roars, the light’ning flies,
And all the warring winds tumultuous rise ;


When now the foaming surges, tost on high,
Disclose the sands beneath, and touch the sky;
When death draws near, the mariners aghaft,
Look back with terror on their actions past;
Their courage fickens into deep dismay,
Their hearts, through fear and anguish, melt away;
Nor tears, nor pray’rs, the tempeft can appease;
Now they devote their treasure to the seas;
Unload their shatter'd barque, tho' richly fraught,
And think the hopes of life are cheaply bought
With gems and gold; but oh, the storm so high!
Nor gems nor gold the hopes of life can buy.

The trembling prophet then, themselves to fave,
They headlong plunge into the briny wave;
Down he descends, and, booming o'er his head,
The billows close; he's number'd with the dead.
(Hear, O ye just! attend, ye virtuous few!
And the bright paths of piety pursue)
Lo! the great Ruler of the world, from high,
Looks smiling down with a propitious eye,
Covers his servant with his gracious hand,
And bids tempestuous nature silent stand ;
Commands the peaceful waters to give place,
Or kindly fold him in a soft embrace :
He bridles in the monsters of the deep:
The bridled monsters awful distance keep:
Forget their hunger, while they view their prey;
And guiltless gaze, and round the stranger play.

But still arise new wonders; nature's Lord
Sends forth into the deep his pow'rful word,
And calls the


leviathan: the great
Leviathan attends in all his state;
Exults for joy, and, with a mighty bound,
Makes the sea shake, and heav'n and earth resound;
Vol. I.




Blackens the waters with the rising sand,
And drives vaft billows to the distant land.

As yawns an earthquake, when imprison'd air
Struggles for vent, and lays the centre bare,
The whale expands his jaws enormous fize;
The prophet views the cavern with surprize;
Measures his monstrous teeth, afar descry'd,
And rolls his wond'ring eyes from side to side :
Then takes possession of the spacious seat,
And fails fecure within the dark retreat

Now is he pleas’d the northern blaft to hear,
And hangs on liquid mountains, void of fear ;
Or falls immers'd into the depths below,
Where the dead filent waters never flow;
To the foundations of the hills convey’d,
Dwells in the shelving mountain's dreadful shade:
Where plummet never reach'd, he draws his breath,
And glides serenely thro' the paths of death.

Two wond'rous days and nights thro' coral groves,
Thro' labyrinths of rocks and sands, he roves :
When the third morning with its level rays
The mountains gilds, and on the billows plays,
It sees the king of waters rise and pour
His sacred guest uninjur'd on the shore :
A type of that great blessing, which the muse
In her next labour ardently pursues.



D A Y.


-Έκ γαίης ελπίζομεν ες φάο- ελθείν. Λείψαν απoιχομένων· οπίσω δε Θεοί τελέθονίαι. .


i. e. -We hope, that the departed will rise again from the

duft : after which, like the gods, they will be immortal,

N Where he hus hept for ages, lifts his head >

OW Man awakes, and from his filent bed,
has ages,

lifts his head;
Shakes off the slumber of ten thousand years,
And on the borders of new worlds appears.
Whate'er the bold, the rash, adventure cost,
In wide ETERNITY I dare be loft.
The muse is wont in narrow bounds to fing,
To teach the frain, or celebrate the king.
I grasp the whole, no more to parts confin’d,
I lift my voice, and sing to human kind:

C 2

I fing

I fing to men and angels; angels join,
While such the theme, their sacred songs with mine.

Again the trumpet's intermitted found
Rolls the wide circuit of creation round,
An universal concourse to prepare
Of all that ever breath'd the vital air:
In some wide field, which active whirlwinds sweep,
Drive cities, forests, mountains, to the deep,
To smooth and lengthen out th' unbounded space,
And spread an area for all human race.

Now monuments prove faithful to their trust,
And render back their long committed dust.
Now charnels rattle; scatter'd limbs, and all
The various bones, obsequious to the call,
Self-mov'd, advance; the neck perhaps to meet
The distant head; the distant legs the feet.
Dreadful to view, see through the dulky sky
Fragments of bodies in confufion Ay,
To distant regions journeying, there to claim
Deserted members, and compleat the frame.

When the world bow'd to Rome's almighty sword,
Rome bow'd to Pompey, and confess’d her lord.
Yet one day loft, this deity below
Became the scorn and pity of his foe.
His blood a traitor's sacrifice was made,
And smok'd indignant on a ruffian's blade.
No trumpet's found, no gasping army's yell,
Bid, with due horror, his great soul farewel.
Obscure his fall ! all welt’ring in his gore,
His trunk was cast to perish on the shore !
While JULIUS frown'd the bloody monster dead,
Who brought the world in his great rival's head.
This sever'd head and trunk shall join once more,
Tho' realms now rise between, and oceans roar.


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