Nor think we fuch a charge as this dildain,
And undergo the humble task with pain.
For ev'ry part of the Almighty's will,
With eager joy, with raptures we fulfill;
But love itfelf's a pow'rful motive here,
Love makes thee to these eyes, these arms most dear.
Let's then afcend- -and thus we spread our wings,
And thus we foaradieu to earthly things.
Adieu, adieu, with joy, dear guides I go:
Adieu the naufeous fink of fin and woe.
No more fhall I thofe difmal profpects view,
Which did each day my bitter griefs renew.
No more behold the perfecutors rage,
Nor all the monftrous vices of the age.
In Mefech's curfed tents no more fhall dwell,
No more be tortur'd with the fons of hell.
No more fhall fin's foul ftain pollute my foul,
Nor earthly cares my better part controul;
No more fhall bear difeafes cruel fmart,
Nor feel death's fatal arrows wound my heart.
No, happy foul, thy tragic part is o'er,
Thy forrows all are fled, thy dangers are no more.
Pure love, triumphant peace, and high renown
Shall float around thee now, and all thy labours crown.
Happy the day that faw thee leave thy fin,
And bravely vertue's fhining race begin.
That faw thee hearken to the voice of God,
His laws obey, and tremble at his rod.
Saw thee diffolve before his flaming love,
And towards his awful throne in holy breathings move.
O had'it thou still thy darling vice purfued,
And still been like thy tempters, vain and lewd,
How wretched now had been thy certain fate!
And in what floods of tears wou'dft thou repent too late!
Thou muft, for these kind looks and arms of ours,
Have felt the fury of infernal pow'rs,
To hell's dark prison in their paws been drawn,
Where goblins stalk, snakes hiss, and monsters yawn:
Where roaring flames, and fhrieks of thofe in pains,
Mix with the yells of fiends, and clinks of chains;
Where no bright morn displays a chearful face,
But crouding horrors fill the gloomy space,
And num'rous dreadful woes all joys for ever chace.
But now thou'rt fafe---and now to heav'n we go,
To heav'n, where tides of endless glory flow,
And light's diffufive rays no limits know:
Where scenes of blifs, and charming wonders dwell,
Wonders too big for angels tongues to tell!
There fits th' Almighty thron'd in awful state,
As kind as high, as good as he is great.
From thence his eyes remotest corners pierce,
And range thro' all the spacious universe ;
From thence he scatters bleffings, and from thence
Does fov'reign rule to nuin'rous worlds dispense,
While meanest creatures feel his chearing influence.
Immortal beams his dazling throne surround,
And in his prefence all delights abound.
Seraph, and cherub bow before his feat,
And everlasting fongs of praise repeat:
Down proftrate at his feet themselves they lay,
His mighty name adore, and dread commands obey.
Thefe, and the faints, fhall thy companions be,
The faints, from all their imperfections free,
And grac'd with knowledge, love, and piety.
We all are there array'd in heav'nly light,
And all in ftricteft bonds of love unite:
And jointly all with rapt'rous ardour fing
Glad Hallelujahs to th' eternal King.
There too thou shalt thy kind Redeemer see,
Who fcorn'd his state, and left all heav'n for thee;
Shalt feel the transports of his charming face,
And dwell for ever in his dear embrace.
Thy pious friends who fought with vice below,
And stood the torrent till death's fatal blow,
In these bleft manfions thou again fhalt find,
More pure, more wife, more generous and kind.
Thy dear Palemon, dearer than thy foul,
Whose mighty lofs thou did'ft fo long condole,
Who with thee joy'd to run the glorious race,
With equal love, and with an equal pace,
Shall thee again with foft careffes meet,
And in loud welcomes thy arrival greet.
You both fhall now your facred flames improve,
Shall both diffolve in pure empyreal love;
For ever both in these bright realms remain,
In joys be delug'd, and in glory reign,
PSALM CXXXVII. paraphrased to the seventh Verse
ENEATH a reverend gloomy fhade,
Where Tygris and Euphrates cut their way,
With folded arms and heads fupinely laid,
We fat and wept out all the tedious day;
Within its banks grief could not be
Contain'd, when Sion we remember'd thee.
Our harps, with which we oft had fung
In folemn ftrains the great JEHOVAH's praife,
Our warbling harps, upon the trees we hung.
Too deep our grief to hear their pleafing lays,
Our harps were fad as well as we,
And tho' by angels touch'd would yield no harmony.
But they who forc'd us from our feat,
The happy land and sweet abode of reft,
Had one way left to be more cruel yet,
And ask'd a fong from hearts with grief oppreft;
Let's hear, fay they, upon the lyre,
One of the anthems of your Hebrew quire.
iv.
How can we frame our voice to fing
The hymns of joy, feftivity and praise,
To thofe who're aliens to our heavenly king,
And want a taste for such exalted lays?
Our harps will here refuse to found;
An holy fong is due to holy ground.
No, dearest Sion, if we can
So far forget thy melancholy state,
As now thou mourn'ft, to fing one chearful strain,
This ill be added to our ebb of fate,
Let neither harp nor voice e'er try
One hallelujah more, but ever filent lye.
WHAT a ftrange moment will it be,
My foul! how full of curiofity?
When wing'd and ready for thy eternal flight,
To th' utmost edges of thy tottering clay,
Hovering, and wifhing longer ftay,
Thou shalt advance, and have eternity in fight,
When just about to try that unknown sea,
What a strange moment will it be!
But yet how much more strange that state!
When loosen'd from th' embrace of this clofe mate,
Thou shalt at once be plung'd in liberty,
And move as fwift and active as a ray
Shot from the lucid fpring of day.
Thou who just now waft clogg'd with dull mortality,
How wilt thou bear the mighty change! how know
Whether thou'rt then the fame or no?
Then to strange manfions of the air,
And stranger company, muft thou repair;
What a new scene of things will then appear;
This world thou by degrees was taught to know,
Which leffen'd thy furprize below:
But knowledge all at once will overflow thee there.
That world, as the first man did this, thou❜lt fee
Ripe grown in full maturity.
There, with bright splendors must thou dwell,
And be what only thofe pure forms can tell;
There must thou live a while, gaze and admire,
'Till the great angel's trump this fabric shake,
And all the flumbring dead awake;
Then to thy old fogotten Rate must thou retire;
This union then will be as ftrange, or more
Than thy new liberty before.
Now for the greateft change prepare,
To fee the only Great, the only Fair:
Veil now thy feeble eyes, gaze and be bleft;
Here all thy turns and revolutions ceate,
Here's all ferenity and peace.
Thou'rt to the centre come, the native feat of reft;
There's now no further change, nor need there be
When One shall be variety.
A PINDARIC ESSAY. By Mr. POMFRET.
INCE we can die but once, and after death
Our ftate no alteration knows;
But, when we have refign'd our breath,
Th' immortal fpirit goes
To endless joys, or everlasting woes:
Wife is that man who labours to fecure
The mighty and important ftake;
And, by all methods, ftrives to make
His paffage fafe, and his reception fure.
Merely to die no man of reason fears,
For certainly we must,
As we are born, return to duft:
'Tis the last point of many lingering years.
But whither then we go,
Whither, we fain wou'd know;
But human understanding cannot. show.
This makes us tremble, and creates
Strange apprehenfions in the mind;
Fills it with restless doubts, and wild debates
Concerning what, we living, cannot find.
None know what death is, but the dead
Therefore we all by nature dying dread,
As a strange, doubtful way, we know not how to tread.
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