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Have pour'd my stream of panegyric down
The vale of nature, where it
Among her lovely works, with a secure
And unambitious course, reflecting clear,
If not the virtues, yet the worth of brutes.
And I am recompens'd, and deem the toils
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 sung,
Whose fire was kindled at the prophets' lamp,
The time of reft, the promis'd sabbath comes,
Six thousand years of sorrow have well-nigh
Fulfill'd their tardy and disastrous course
Over a sinful world; and what remains
Of this tempestuous state of human things,
Is merely as the working of a sea
Before a calm, that rocks itself to rest :
For He whose car the winds are, and the clouds
The dust that waits upon his sultry march,
When sin hath mov'd him, and his wrath is hot,
Shall visit earth in mercy;
Propitious, in his chariot pav'd with love,
And what his storms 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 loss,
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 some fair theme, fome theme divinely fair,
Such is the impulse and the fpur he feels
To give it praise proportion'd to its worth,
That not t' attempt it, arduous as he deems
The labor, were a talk more arduous still.
Oh scenes surpassing fable, and yet true,
Scenes of accomplish'd bliss ! which who can see,
Though but in distant prospect, 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 paft. The fruitful field
Laughs with abundance, and the land, once lean,
Or fertile only in its own disgrace,
Exults to see its thiftly curse repeal'd.
The various seasons woven into one,
And that one season 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 Aocks; all bask at noon
Together, or all gambol in the shade
Of the same grove, and drink one common stream.
Antipathies are none. No foe to man
Lurks in the serpent now: the mother sees,
And smiles to see her infant's playful hand
Stretch'd forth to dally with the crested 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 pestilence is driv'n away ;
The breath of heav'n has chas'd it. In the heart
No passion touches a discordant ftring,
But all is harmony and love. Disease
Is not: the pure and uncontaminate blood
Holds its due course, nor fears the frost of age.
One song employs all nations; and all cry,
Worthy the Lamb, for he was Nain 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 Hosanna round.
Behold the measure of the promise fillid;
See Salem built, the labor of a God!
Bright as a fun the sacred city shines;
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.
Praise is in all her gates : upon her walls,
And in her streets, and in her spacious courts,
Is heard salvation. Eastern Java there
Kneels with the native of the farthest West,
• Nebaioth and Kedar, the fons of Ishmael, and progenitors of the Arabs, in the prophetic feripture here alluded to, may be reafonably considered as representatives of the Gentiles at large.