And bade his slaves his chariot lead
To Academus' sacred shade.

The trembling grove confess'd its fright,
The wood-nymphs started at the sight;
The muses drop their learned lyre,
And to their inmost shales retire.

3 How'er, the youth, with forward air,
Bows to the sage, and mounts the car.
The lash resounds, the coursers spring,
The chariot marks the rolling ring ;
And gath'ring crowds, with eager eyes,
And shouts, pursue him as he flies.
4 Triumphant to the goal return'd,
With nobler thirst his bosom burn'd;
And now along th' indented plain
The self-same track he marks again,
Pursues with care the nice design,
Nor ever deviates from the line.
Amazement seiz'd the circling crowd
The youths with emulation glow'd;
Ev'n bearded sages hail'd the boy;
And all but Plato gaz'd with joy.
5 For he, deep-judging sage, beheld
With pain the triumphs of the field,
And when the charioteer drew nigh,
And, flush'd with hope, had caught his eye-
"Alas! unhappy youth," he cry'd,

66

Expect no praise from me," (and sigh'd.`

6" With indignation I survey

Such skill and judgment thrown away :
The time profusely squander'd there,
On vulgar arts beneath thy care,
If well employ'd, at less expense,
Had taught thee honour, virtue, sense;
And rais'd thee from a coachman's fate,

To govern men, and guide the state."-WHITEHEAD.

SECTION V.

Discourse between Adam and Eve, retiring to rest. NOW came still ev'ning on, and twilight gray Had in her sober liv'ry all things clad. Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,

Were sunk; all but the wakeful nightingale.
She all night long her am'rous descant sung;
Silence was pleased. Now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length,
Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her sil-er-mantle threw.

When Adam thus to Ev. "Fair consort, th' hour
Of night, and all things now retired to rest,
Mind us of like repose; since God hath set
Labour and rest, as day and night, to men
Successive; and the timely dew of sleep,
Now falling with soft slumb'rous weight, inclines
Our eye-lids. Other creatures all day long
Rove idle unemployed, and less need rest;
Man hath his daily work of body or of mind
Appointed, which declares his dignity,
And the regard of heav'n on all his way
While other animals unactive range,
And of their doings God takes no account.

3 To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east
With first approach of light, we must be risen,
And at our pleasant labour; to reform
Yon flow'ry arbours, yonder alleys green,
Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown,

That mock our scant manuring, and require

More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth.
Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums,
That lic bestrown, unsightly and unsmooth,
Ask riddance, if we mean to read with ease.
Mean while, as nature wills, night bids us rest.”
4 To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorn'd:
"My author and disposer, what thou bid'st
Unargued I obey; so God ordains.

With thee conversing, I forget all time;
All seasons and their change, all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flow'r,
Glist'ning with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft show'rs; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful ev'ring mild; then sleut right,

With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heav'n, her starry train :
5 But neither breath of morn, when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flow'r,
Glist'ring with dew; nor fragrance after show'rs ;
Nor grateful ev'ning mild; nor silent night,
With this her solemn bird; nor walk by moon,
Or glittering star-light-without thee is sweet.
But wherefore all night long shine these? for whom
This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut al eyes?
6 To whom our gen'ral ancestor reply'd :

"Daughter of God and man, accomplish'd Eve!
These have their course to finish round the earth,
By morrow evening: and from land to land,
In order, though to nations yet unborn,
Minist'ring light prepar'd, they set and rise ;
Lest total darkness should by night regain
Her old possession, and extinguish life
In nature and all things; which these soft fires
Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat
Of various influence, foment and warm,
Temper or nourish; or in part shed down
Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow
On earth, made hereby apter to receive
Perfectior from the sun's more potent ray,

7 These, then, though unbeheld in deep of night,
Shine nct in vain; nor think, though men were none
That heav'n would want spectators, God want praise
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth
Unseen both when we wake and when we sleep.
All these with ceaseless praise his works behold,
Both day and night. How often from the steep
Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard
Celestial voices to the midnight air,
Sole or responsive each to others' note,
Singing their great Creator? Oft in bands,
While they kept watch, or nightly rounding walls
With heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds,
In fuil harmonic number in'd their congs,
Divide the night and lift our thoughts to heaven.
8 Thus talking, hand in hand, alone they passed
On to their blissful bower-

-There arriv'd, both stood,

Both turn'd; and under open sky ador'd

The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heav'n,
Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe,
And starry pole."Thou also mad'st the night,
Maker Omnipotent, and thou the day,
Which we, in our appointed work employ'd,
Have finish'd, happy in our mutual help,
And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss
Ordained by thee; and this delicious place,
For us too large, where thy abundance wants
Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground
But thou hast promis'd from us two a race,
To fill the earth, who shall with us extol
Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake,
And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep."

SECTION VI.

Religion and Death.

LO: a form divinely bright,
Descends, and bursts upon my sight;
A seraph of illustrious birth!
(Religion was her name on earth;)
Supremely sweet her radiant face,
And blooming with celestial grace!
Three shining cherubs form'd her train,
Wav'd their light wings, and reach'd the plain:
Faith, with sublime and piercing eye,
And pinions flutt'ring for the sky;
Here Hope, that smiling angel, stands,
And golden anchors grace her hands;
There Charity in robes of white,
Fairest and fav'rite maid of light.
The seraph spoke-"Tis Reason's part
To govern and to guard the heart;
To lull the wayward soul to rest,
When hopes and fears distract the breast.
Reason may calm this doubtful strife,
And steer thy bark through various life:
But when the storms of death are nigh,
And midnight darkness veils the sky,
Shall Reason then direct thy sail,
Disperse the clouds, or sink the gale?

MILTON

Stranger, this skill alone is mine,
Skill that transcends his scanty line.
3" Revere thyself--thou'rt near allied
To angels on thy better side.
How various e'er their ranks or kinds,
Angels are but unbodied minds:
When the partition-walls decay,
Men emerge angels from their clay.
Yes, when the frailer body dies,
The soul asserts her kindred skies,
But minds, though sprung from heav'nly race,
Must first be tutor'd for the place:
The joys above are understood,
And relish'd only by the good.
Who shall assume this guardian care;
Who shall secure their birth-right there?
Souls are my charge--to me 'tis giv'n
To train them for their native heav'n."
"Know then-who bow the early knee,
And give the willing heart to me;
Who wisely, when Temptation waits,
Elude her frauds, and spurn
her baits;
Who dare to own my injur'd cause,
Though fools deride my sacred laws;
Or scorn to deviate to the wrong,
Though persecution lifts her thong;
Though all the sons of hell conspire
To raise the stake and light the fire;
Know that for such superior souls,
There lies a bliss beyond the poles;
Where spirits shine with purer ray,
And brighten to meridian day;

Where love, where boundless friendship rules
(No friends that change, no love that cools;)
Where rising floods of knowledge roll,
And pour, and pour, upon the soul!

5 "But where's the passage to the skies?
The road through death's black valley lies,
Nay, do not shudder at my tale:

Though dark the shade, yet safe the vale.
This path the best of men have trod :
And who'd decline the road to God!
Oh! 'tis a glorious boon to die!
This favour can't be priz'd too high.”