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Before the pilgrims part, the younger crept
Confus'd, and struck with silence at the deed,
Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair;
Tho' loud at first the pilgrim's passion grew,
Thy pray'r, thy praise, thy life to vice unknown, In sweet memorial rise before the throne: These charms, success in our bright region find, And force an angel down, to calm thy mind; For this commission'd, I forsook the sky, Nay, cease to kneel—Thy fellow-servant I.
Then know the truth of government divine, And let these scruples be no longer thine.
The Maker justly claims that world he made, In this the right of Providence is laid; Its sacred majesty through all depends On using second means to work his ends:
'Tis thus, withdrawn in state from human eye,
What strange events can strike with more surprize Than those which lately struck thy wond'ring eyes?
Yet taught by these, confess th' Almighty just, . And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust!
The great vain man, who far’d on costly food, Whose life was too luxurious to be good; Who made his iv'ry stands with goblets shine, And forc'd his guests to morning draughts of wine, Has, with the cup, this graceless custom lost, And still be welcomes, but with less of cost.
The mean, suspicious wretch, whose bolted door Ne'er mov'd in pity to the wand'ring poor; With him I left the cup, to teach his mind That Heav'n can bless, if mortals will be kind. Conscious of wanting worth, he views the bowl, And feels compassion touch his grateful soul. Thus artists melt the sullen ore of lead, With heaping coals of fire upon its head; In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow, And, loose from dross, the silver runs below.
Long had our pious friend in virtue trod, But now the child half wean'd his heart from GOD; (Child of his age) for him he liv'd in pain, And measur'd back his steps to earth again. To what excesses had his dotage run! But GOD, to save the father, took the son. To all but thee, in fits he seem'd to go, (And 'twas my ministry to deal the blow) The poor fond parent humbled in the dust, Now owns, in tears, the punishment was just.
But how had all his fortune felt a wrack, Had that false servant sped in safety back! This night his treasur'd heaps he meant to steal, Then what a fund of charity would fail!
Thus Heav'n instructs thy mind: this trial o'er, Depart in peace, resign, and sin no more.
On sounding pinions here the youth withdrew, The sage stood wond'ring as the seraph flew. Thùs look'd Elisha when to mount on high, His master took the chariot of the sky: The fiery pomp ascending, left the view; The prophet gaz’d, and wish'd to follow too. The bending hermit here a pray'r begun, Lord! as in heav’non earth thy will be done. Then gladly turning, sought his ancient place, And pass'd a life of piety and peace.
NIGHT-PIECE ON DEATH.
By the blue taper's trembling light,
How deep yon azure dyes the sky! Where orbs of gold unnumber'd lie, While through their ranks in silver pride The nether crescent seems to glide. The slumb’ring breeze forgets to breathe, The lake is smooth and clear beneath, Where once again the spangled show Descends to meet our eyes below. The grounds which on the right aspire, In aimness from the view retire: The left presents a place of graves, Whose walls the silent water laves.