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, too 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! O thou cherub, heavenly bright!
O 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 thee 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 infest the flood,
By nature dreadful, and athirst for blood,
His will can calm, their savage 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 bis head?
When now the thunder roars, the lightning 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 aghast,
Look back with terror on their actions past:
Their courage sickens into deep dismay,
Their hearts, through fear and anguish, melt away;
Nor tears, nor prayers, the tempest can appease:
Now they devote their treasure to the seas;
Unload their shatter'd bark, tho' richly fraught,
And think the hopes of life are cheaply bought
With gems and gold: but O! the storm so high!
Nor gems, nor gold, the hopes of life can buy.
The trembling prophet then, themselves to save, 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 on 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 powerful word;
And calls the great Leviathan: the great
Leviathan attends in all his state :
Exults for joy, and with a mighty bound
Makes the sea shake, and heaven and earth resound;
Blackens the water with the rising sand,
And drives vast 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 size,
The prophet views the cavern with surprise;
Measures his monstrous teeth afar descry'd,
And rolls his wand'ring eyes from side to side:
Then takes possession of the spacious seat,
And sails secure within the dark retreat.
Now is he pleas'd the northern blast to hear, And hangs on liquid mountains, void of fear; Or falls immers'd into the depths below, Where the dead silent 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 mountain 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.
Now man awakes, and from his silent bed, Where he has slept for ages, lifts his head; Shakes off the slumber of ten thousand years, And on the borders of new worlds appears.
Again the trumpet's intermitted sound
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 dusky sky
Fragments of bodies in confusion fly,
To distant regions, journeying there to claim.
Deserted members, and complete the frame.
So swarming bees that on a summer's day, In airy rings, and wild meanders play,
Charm'd with the brazen sound, their wand'rings end,
And, gently circling, on a bough descend.
The body thus renew'd, the conscious soul, Which has perhaps been flutt'ring near the pole, Or 'midst the burning planets wond'ring stray'd, Or hover'd o'er where her pale corpse was laid:
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