Lo! far within, and far above all height,
Where heav'n's great Sov'reign reigns in worlds of light,
Whence nature He informs, and with one ray
Shot from his eye, does all her works survey,
Creates, fupports, confounds! Where time, and place,
Matter, and form, and fortune, life, and grace,
Wait humbly at the footstool of their God,
And move obedient at his awful nod;
Whence he beholds us vagrant emmets crawl
At random on this air-fufpended ball
(Speck of creation): if he pour one breath,
The bubble breaks, and 'tis eternal death.
Thence iffuing I behold (but mortal fight
Suftains not fuch a rushing fea of light!)
I fee, on an empyreal flying throne
Sublimely rais'd, Heav'n's everlasting Son;
Crown'd with that majesty, which form'd the world,
And the grand rebel flaming downward hurl’d.
Virtue, dominion, praife, omnipotence,
Support the train of their triumphant prince.
A zone, beyond the thought of angels bright,
Around him, like the zodiac, winds its light.
Night fhades the folemn arches of his brows,
And in his cheek the purple morning glows.
Where-e'er ferene, he turns propitious eyes,
Or we expect, or find, a paradife :
But if refentment reddens their mild beams,
The Eden kindles, and the world's in flames.
On one hand, knowledge fhines in pureft light;
On one, the fword of justice fiercely bright.
Now bend the knee in fport, prefent the reed;
Now tell the scourg'd Impoftor he shall bleed!
Thus glorious thro' the courts of heav'n, the fource
Of life and death eternal bends his course;
Loud thunders round him roll, and lightnings play;
Th' angelic host is rang'd in bright array:
Some touch the ftring, some strike the founding shell,
And mingling voices in rich concert fwell;
Voices feraphic; bleft with such a strain,
Could Satan hear, he were a god again.
Triumphant King of GLORY! Soul of Blifs!
What a ftupendous turn of fate is this!
O! whither art thou rais'd above the fcorn
And indigence of him in Bethlem born;
A needless, helpless, unaccounted, gueft,
And but a fecond to the fodder'd beaft!
How chang'd from him, who meekly proftrate laid,
Vouchfaf'd to wash the feet himself had made!
From him who was betray'd, forfook, deny'd,
Wept, languish'd, pray'd, bled, thirsted, groan'd, and dy'd;
Hung pierc'd and bare, infulted by the foe,
All heav'n in tears above, earth unconcern'd below!
And was't enough to bid the Sun retire?
Why did not Nature at thy groan expire?
I fee, I hear, I feel, the pangs divine;
The world is vanish'd,-I am wholly thine.
Miftaken CAIAPHAS! Ah! which blafphem'd;
Thou, or thy Pris'ner? which shall be condemn'd?
Well might'ft thou rend thy garments, well exclaim;
Deep are the horrors of eternal flame!
But God is good! 'Tis wond'rous all! Ev'n He
Thou gav'ft to death, shame, torture, dy'd for Thee.
Now the descending triumph ftops its flight
From earth full twice a planetary height,
There all the clouds condens'd, two columns raise
Distinct with orient veins, and golden blaze.
One fix'd on earth, and one in sea, and round
Its ample foot the fwelling billows found.
These an immeasurable arch support,
The grand tribunal of this awful court.
Sheets of bright azure, from the pureft sky,
Stream from the chrystal arch, and round the columns fly. Death, wrapt in chains, low at the bafis lies,
And on the point of his own arrow dies.
Here high enthron'd th' eternal Judge is plac'd,
With all the grandeur of his Godhead grac'd;
Stars on his robes in beauteous order meet,
And the fun burns beneath his awful feet.
Now an archangel eminently bright,
From off his filver staff of wond'rous height,
Unfurls the Chriftian flag, which waving flies,
And shuts and opens more than half the skies:
The Crofs fo ftrong a red, it sheds a stain,
Where-e'er it floats, on earth, and air, and main;
Flushes the hill, and sets on fire the wood,
And turns the deep-dy'd ocean into blood.
Oh formidable GLORY! dreadful bright!
Refulgent torture to the guilty fight.
Ah turn, unwary mufe, nor dare reveal
What horrid thoughts with the polluted dwell.
Say not, (to make the Sun fhrink in his beam)
Dare not affirm, they wish it all a dream;
Wish, or their fouls may with their limbs decay,
Or God be spoil'd of his eternal sway.
But rather, if thou know'ft the means, unfold
How they with transport might the scene behold.
Ah how! but by Repentance, by a mind
Quick, and fevere its own offence to find?
By tears, and groans, and never-ceafing care,
And all the pious violence of Pray'r ?
Thus then, with fervency till now unknown,
I caft my heart before th' eternal throne,
In this great temple, which the skies surround,
For homage to its Lord, a narrow bound.
"O Thou! whose balance does the mountains weigh, "Whose will the wild tumultuous seas obey,
"Whose breath can turn those watʼry worlds to flame, "That flame to tempeft, and that tempeft tame; "Earth's meaneft fon, all trembling, proftrate falls, "And on the boundless of thy goodness calls. "Oh! give the winds all past offence to sweep, "To scatter wide, or bury in the deep:
Thy pow'r, my weakness, may I ever fee, "And wholly dedicate my foul to Thee:
Reign o'er my will; my paffions ebb and flow "At thy command, nor human motive know! « If anger boil, let anger be my praise, "And fin the graceful indignation raise.
My love be warm to fuccour the distress'd, "And lift the burden from the foul opprefs'd. "Oh may my understanding ever read
"This glorious volume, which Thy wisdom made!
"Who decks the maiden Spring with flow'ry pride!
"Who calls forth Summer, like a sparkling bride ?
"Who joys the mother Autumn's bed to crown?
"And bids old, Winter lay her honours down?
"Not the Great OTTOMAN, or Greater Czak,
"Not Europe's arbitress of peace and war.
"May sea and land, and earth and heav'n be join'd,
"To bring th' eternal Author to my mind!
“When oceans roar, or awful thunders roll,
May thoughts of Thy dread vengeance shake my foul! "When earth's in bloom, or planets proudly fhine,
"Adore, my heart, the MAJESTY Divine !
"Thro' ev'ry scene of life, or peace, or war,
Plenty, or want, Thy glory be my care!
"Shine we in arms? or fing beneath our vine?
“Thine is the vintage, and the conquest Thine:
"Thy pleasure points the fhaft, and bends the bow;
“The cluster blasts, or bids it brightly glow:
« "Tis thou that lead'ft our pow'rful armies forth,
And giv'ft Great ANNE Thy fceptre o'er the north.
« Grant I may ever, at the Morning-Ray,
"Open with Pray'r the confecrated day;
"Tune Thy great praise, and bid my foul arife,
"And with the mounting fun afcend the skies:
"As that advances, let my zeal improve,
"And glow with ardour of confummate love;
"Nor cease at eve, but with the Setting Sun
My endless worship shall be still begun.
"And, oh! permit the gloom of folemn night "To facred thought may forcibly invite.
"When this world's fhut, and awful planets rise,
"Call on our minds, and raise them to the skies;
Compose our fouls with a lefs dazzling fight,
"And fhew all nature in a milder light;
"How every boisterous thought in calms fubfides!
"How the fmooth'd spirit into goodness glides !
"O how divine! to tread the milky way,
"To the bright palace of the Lord of day;
"His court admire, or for his favour fue,
"Or leagues of friendship with his faints renew;
"Pleas'd to look down, and fee the World afleep,
"While I long vigils to its Founder keep!
"Can't Thou not shake the centre? Oh! controul,
"Subdue by force, the rebel in my foul:
"Thou, who canft ftill the raging of the flood,
"Reftrain the various tumults of my blood;
"Teach me, with equal firmness, to sustain
Alluring pleasure, and affaulting pain.
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