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Exalt, O Jacob's sacred race,
The God of gods, the God of grace;
FROM JOB. A SPIRIT passed before me: I beheld The face of Immortality unveiledDeep sleep came down on every eye save mine, “And there it stood, -all formless—but divine : Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake; And as my damp hair stiffen'd, thus it spake:
Is man more just than God? Is man more pure Than he who deems even seraphs insecure ? Creatures of clay! vain dwellers in the dust! The moth survives you, and are ye more just? Things of a day! you wither ere the night, Heedless and blind to wisdom's wasted light!
PART OF THE
FOURTEENTH CHAPTER OF ISAIAH
Paraphrased. Now has the Almighty Father, seated high In ambient glories, from the eternal throne Vouchsafed compassion; and the afflictive power Has broke, whose iron sceptre long had bruised The groaning nations. Now returning Peace, Dove-eyed and robed in white, the blissful land Deigns to revisit; whilst beneath her steps
The soil, with civil slaughter oft manured,
When, vehicled in flame, thou slow didst pass Prone through the gates of Night, the dreary
realms With loud acclaim received thee. Tyrants old (Gigantic forms, with human blood besmear'd) Rose from their thrones; for thrones they still
possess, Their penance and their guilt: "Art thou,'they cry, • O emulous of our crimes, here doom'd to reign Associate of our woe Nor comest thou girt With liveried slaves, or bands of warrior-knights, Which erst before thee stood, a flattering crowd, Observant of thy brow; nor hireling quires, Attempering to the harp their warbled airs, Thy panegyric chant; but, hush'd in death, Like us thou liest unwept; a corse obscene With dust, and preying worms, bare and despoild Of ill got pomp.
We hail thée our compeer! How art thou with diminish'd glory fallen From thy proud zenith, swift as meteors glide Aslope a summer eve! Of all the stars, Titled the first and fairest, thou didst hope To share divinity, or haply more, Elated as supreme, when o'er the North Thy bloody banners stream’d, to rightful kings Portending ruinous downfal; wondrous low, Opprobrious and detested, art thou thrown, Disrobed of all thy splendours : round thee stand
The swarming populace, and with fix'd regard
• In solemn state the bones of pious kings,
A PARAPHRASE ON I COR, CHAP. XIII,
Did sweeter sounds adorn my flowing tongue
Did Shadrach's zeal my glowing breast inspire,
Charity! decent, modest, easy, kind,
Each other gift which God on man bestows,
As through the artist's intervening glass
So whilst our mind its knowledge would improve
But soon the mediate clouds shall be dispell’d,
Then constant Faith and holy Hope shall die, One lost in certainty, and one in joy; Whilst thou, more happy power, fair Charity, Triumphant sister, greatest of the three, Thy office and thy nature still the same, Lasting thy lamp, and unconsumed thy flame, Shalt still survive Shalt stand before the host of Heaven confess'd, For ever blessing, and for ever bless’d.
THE ORACLE CONCERNING BABYLON.
High on a mountain's stately brow
The sanguine streaming banner rear; Wave the stretch'd hand to realms below;
Loud swell the voice, that all may hear; And through the gates of princes ride
In close array and martial pride. My chiefs enroll’d to vengeance I command, And, glorying in my might, in arms my warriors
stard. VOL. I.