Have pour'd my stream of panegyric down
The vale of nature, where it creeps and winds
Among her lovely works, with a fecure
And unambitious course, reflecting clear,
If not the virtues, yet the worth of brutes.
And I am recompens'd, and deem the toils
Of
poetry not loft, if verse of mine
May stand between an animal and woe,
And teach one tyrant pity for his drudge.
The groans of nature in this nether world,
Which Heav'n has heard for ages, have an end.
Foretold by prophets, and by poets fung,
Whofe fire was kindled at the prophets' lamp,
The time of reft, the promis'd fabbath comes.
Six thousand years of forrow have well-nigh
Fulfill'd their tardy and difaftrous course
Over a finful world; and what remains
Of this tempeftuous ftate of human things,
Is merely as the working of a fea
Before a calm, that rocks itself to reft:
For He whose car the winds are, and the clouds
The duft that waits upon his fultry march,
When fin hath mov'd him, and his wrath is hot,
Shall vifit earth in mercy; fhall defcend
Propitious, in his chariot pav'd with love,
And what his ftorms have blasted and defac'd
For man's revolt, fhall with a fmile repair.
Sweet is the harp of prophecy; too sweet
Not to be wrong'd by a mere mortal touch:
Nor can the wonders it records be fung
To meaner music, and not suffer lofs,
But when a poet, or when one like me,
Happy to rove among poetic flow'rs,
Though poor in skill to rear them, lights at last
On fome fair theme, fome theme divinely fair,
Such is the impulfe and the fpur he feels
To give it praife proportion'd to its worth,
That not t' attempt it, arduous as he deems
The labor, were a task more arduous still.
Oh scenes furpaffing fable, and yet true,
Scenes of accomplish'd bliss! which who can see,
Though but in diftant profpect, and not feel
His foul refresh'd with foretaste of the joy?
Rivers of gladness water all the earth,
And clothe all climes with beauty; the reproach
Of barrenness is past. The fruitful field
Laughs with abundance, and the land, once lean,
Or fertile only in its own difgrace,
Exults to fee its thiftly curfe repeal'd.
The various seasons woven into one,
And that one feafon an eternal spring,
The garden fears no blight, and needs no fence,
For there is none to covet, all are full.
The lion, and the libbard, and the bear,
Graze with the fearless flocks; all bafk at noon
Together, or all gambol in the fhade
Of the fame grove, and drink one common stream. No foe to man
Lurks in the ferpent now: the mother fees,
And smiles to fee her infant's playful hand
Stretch'd forth to dally with the crefted worm,
To stroke his azure neck, or to receive
The lambent homage of his arrowy tongue.
All creatures worship man, and all mankind
One Lord, one Father. Error has no place :
That creeping peftilence is driv'n away;
The breath of heav'n has chas'd it. In the heart
No paffion touches a difcordant ftring,
But all is harmony and love. Disease
Is not the pure and uncontaminate blood
Holds its due course, nor fears the froft of age.
One fong employs all nations; and all cry,
Worthy the Lamb, for he was flain for us!" The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other, and the mountain tops From diftant mountains catch the flying joy,
Till nation after nation taught the strain,
Earth rolls the rapturous Hofanna round.
Behold the measure of the promise fill'd;
See Salem built, the labor of a God!
Bright as a fun the facred city fhines;
All kingdoms and all princes of the earth
Flock to that light; the glory of all lands
Flows into her; unbounded is her joy,
And endless her encrease. Thy rams are there
*Nebaioth, and the flocks of Kedar there;
The looms of Ormus, and the mines of Ind,
And Saba's spicy groves, pay tribute there.
Praife is in all her gates: upon her walls,
And in her streets, and in her fpacious courts,
Is heard falvation. Eastern Java there
Kneels with the native of the fartheft Weft,
* Nebaioth and Kedar, the fons of Ishmael, and progenitors of the Arabs, in the prophetic fcripture here alluded to, may be reafonably confidered as representatives of the Gentiles at large.
|