He stopp'd, and madly stamp'd upon the ground

With rage infuriate, and terrific roar, Which shew'd the workings of his darken'd mind.

When Michael, seraph-like, with ardent fire Resumed the conflict thus with holy zeal.

"What thou hast said bespeaks the worst of minds,

Harden'd by sin, and deaf to all reproof.
Thy conduct 'gainst the God who rules on
high,'

Shews thy rebellion in its blackest forms.
And hadst thou power, creation then might fear
Annihilation, or, what's worse by far,

A fate like thine, which cannot be revers'd.
But what avails this strife, this argument?
This dust is sacred; touch it not, but fear
The wrath of Him who plung'd thee into night,
With all the legions who thy standard join'd.
The Lord rebuke thee, Satan; 'tis his right,
His high prerogative; I claim it not."

Then with his eyes upturn'd to heav'n he
look'd,

And cried, "Most holy, righteous, triune God,
Of this apostate, who thy name blasphem'd.
Assert thy majesty before the sight
Shew thy all-conquering might: thou Lord of
hosts,

Maintain thy sway, and let thy glorious arm
Drive this foul rebel to his curst abode."
When suddenly the presence of the Lord
Was manifested to his joyful sight
In dazzling beauty, shrouded splendidly :
For on his awful face no power create
Had ever gaz'd, insufferable blaze;
But through a veil the Eternal God was seen.
The mountain trembled at the august descent
Of the Unsearchable, who stood confest
Before the fiend, who reigns the emperor
Of Tophet's burnings, who before he fell
Rank'd high in dignity; his title was,
Son of the morning star; he held his seat
Nigh to the Infinite, whose name he lov'd.
But, sad reverse! now see him, awful sight,
A monument of wrath to Deity;
Abandon'd, outcast from those thrones of bliss;
Tremendous spectacle! beyond the power
Of speech to paint or tell. The God ador'd
By vocal companies who fill the heav'ns,
Transcending all the thoughts of earth-born sons
In their most lofty flight stand back, nor press
Too near the Godhead: reason, keep thy place,
And grant to revelation what thou want'st.

Behold yon gloomy, black, terrific imp,
In skulking attitude he shrinks away,
Thief-like, detected in his bold emprise.
He menaces in anger, but the God'
Appears before him; lo! he starts, and quakes,
Confounded in the presence of the I Am!
Oblig'd to stay, he hears the unwelcome voice
Interrogating what he said before.

Hark! how it thunders, lightnings play around,

Flash thick, and quiver on the astonish'd ground.

And Beelzebub once more had learn'd to fear,
When nature's God made his appearance there.
The voice of Him who said, Let there be light,
Assum'd at once its terrors infinite ;
Dread on the ears of Lucifer it rung,
In accents spoken with no mortal tongue.

"What! thou foul spirit, wherefore hast thou come,

From out thy dungeon, curst for evermore
By my almighty mandate? hence depart
To yon wide cavern, echoing with the shrieks
Of fallen angels, who my sway opposed.
But hear thy doom, thou fiend of misery,
Hear thy sad fortune, for thou know'st it not.
Thy bold impiety hath drawn the deeds
Of thy destruction; thy undaunted front
Hath pluck'd down vengeance on thy guilty head
Which shall accumulate, while my kingdom
stands,

When nature's fled away; sink to the depths
Of thy infernal torments, greater still

In infinite progression,' till thou liest Fast bound a captive in thy prison-hole. But mark my words, and know my sovereign

will:

The heav'n-born soul that liv'd within that shrine,

Was a clear type of Zion's holy King,
The promised Seed; who, in yon Paradise
By me foretold, should bruise thy cursed head,
And pour upon thee such a load of wo,
That through th' excruciating anguish felt,
Thou'lt wish for death to end thy loathsome
life.'

"As Moses guided Israel through the wastes Of Sinai's desert, fraught with burning sands And noxious reptiles; so shall Jesse's Branch Be unto them the bright and morning Star; Their great deliverer. David's Son shall reign When earthly thrones are crumbled in the dust;

When monarchs, like fleeting sounds, are fled To dark oblivion; He thy force shall crush, Shall dispossess thee of thy power usurped. He, in whose hands are placed the keys of hell, With those of hades and yon sparkling heav'n,

Shall ride on conquering, till his foes shall fall Beneath his footstool, branded with the mark Of my displeasure. He, in whom I am well pleas'd,

Shall build my church upon the rock, Himself,
Against whose base thy force in vain shall dash
With rage impetuous, threatening to devoar
My saints redeem'd with Shiloh's precious
blood.

But such 'twill be, that thou and all thy strength
Combin'd with that of mortals, shall not tear
From this foundation one immortal soul
That puts its trust and confidence in Him,
Whom Balaam in prophetic vision saw,
When called by Balak to invoke his God
To poar down curses on my people's head.
But that vile seer, when Jacob's tents he
view'd,

Sought not enchantments, as at other times,
But, struck with admiration at the sight,
Desir'd to die the death the righteous do,
That his last end might be the same as theirs.
I'll bring thy gloomy empire to an end;
Thy slaves and vassals I will liberate,
Will break in sunder their detested chains,
And Judah's lion gloriously shall ride
Upon the necks of thy ignoble crew.
Weep for thyself, if thou remorse canst feel
For thy disloyalty to thy liege Lord.
In tears of blood bemoan thy punishment,
Which I'll prolong when time shall be no more,
Long as eternity shall roll along.

"Now thou hast heard it; hence, depart, nor stop

In all the plain, but to thy torments haste,
And think, when in the horrors of thy den,
This I deserve from my offended God."-
He ceased; when, summoning his courage up,
The vile deceiver thus his speech began.

"Am I to be thus treated and contemn'd By Israel's Sovereign, stamp'd with infamy, Debarr'd from comfort, not one ray of light To cheer this dark benighted soul of mine, Where passion storms, and pride her sceptre sways?

Shall I, once high enthroned in ambient light,
Be doom'd to languish an eternity
In flames of sulphur and Jehovah's wrath!
Better by far my life should be extinct,

I am immortal ; I 'can never die,'
Unhappy, wretched, still I must exist,
Still feel my misery: still yon hell endure;
Still be accursed; may I not exclaim,
With Cain of old, first-born of woman kind,→
My punishment is more than I can bear?"

No more he spoke, but inwardly he seem'd
Tortur'd with anguish for his heinous crimes,
If ought of sorrow can be said to dwell
In minds infernal, harass'd with despair;
But then, e'en then, he wildly star'd around
With envious hatred on the heavenly hosts,
Who, gorgeously array'd in purest white,
Heard silently his bold emphatic speech.

Again the God an answer deign'd to make To Tophet's monarch: "I thy word have heard,

But still must say thy punishment is just.
I'll give thee strength to suffer all the pains
Which I'll inflict with an unsparing hand.
I'll pour my wrath on thy devoted head,
Which shall convince thee of a power su
preme,

That governs righteously in all the earth,
And brings from evil good, to praise his name."

These words scarce utter'd, when the demon flew,

Swift as an antler by the hounds pursued ;
Or as the red deer o'er the Lapland snows
Bounds with agility, and glides along,
To distant cottage, o'er the icy bills,
To greet his kindred at the destin'd place;
Snuffing the air, he bends his active limbs,
And lightly scours across the lengthen'd vales,
Spread with a carpet of luxuriant white.
Rage, spite, and hatred rankling in his breast,
He roar'd tremendously, as through the air
He rush'd along, to gain his darksome hell,
To ruminate in silence on his fate,
Fix'd by the Godhead, ne'r to be eras'd
Out of the mind of the Unchangeable.

Now near the body lay a neighbouring dell
Antique in form; it seem'd a hallow'd spot,
Sacred to nature's God; far off remote
From wand'ring shepherd in his evening walk,
When trav'ling homeward, piping to his flock
In rustic harmony and dulcet sound;
Shaded by lofty trees, whose branching boughs
Thick spread with leaves; to Sol's most bril-
liant light

Denied an entrance; silence reign'd around.
It seem'd for contemplation's self design'd,
When gravely sad, or melancholy sweet.
No tuneful chorister was heard to sing
His plaintive ditties for his absent mate;
Save Philomela, when fair Cynthia rose
O'er the blue bills stretch'd far along the east,
In awful grandeur tow'ring to the skies.
Thither with care the heav'nly throng convey'd
The patriarch's body, smiling e'en in death,
Perfum'd with odours of celestial kind.
It they deposited beneath the shade,
Within the bowels of its parent earth,
To rest in peace, till from its lowly bed
The archangel's trump shall raise the slumber-
ing clay

To join its partner in the realms of day.
W. J. PIKE.
Mount-street, Manchester, 13th Feb, 1823.

More soft was her voice than Timoleon's lyre,
And sweetly serene was her look;

I felt, as she smil'd, all my bosom on fire
To read her mysterious book.

"This book is a record prophetic," she said,
"The science of sages divine,
Who drank inspiration at Truth's fountain-
head,

Then breath'd it in every line.

"But now to decipher each mystical text,
Know, mortal, I hither am sent;
The vail that for ages hath sages preplext,
From the top to the bottom I rent.'

The angel continued, and sweet was her speech,
I listen'd with holy delight;

""Tis mine to unfold what no reason can teach, However exalted and bright.

"The vision was clos'd till the time of the end,'

That mystical period is near; What seers in prophetical story have peun'd, Develop'd shall shortly appear.

"The seven-fold signet is taken away,

Who runneth the record may read ;' 'The signs of the times,' like the morning star's

O'er the field of the wide world to scatter good seed,

That truth and salvation may grow.

"Thy fair Institution,* so noble and grand, A star of Millennial day,

The Elohim Three in love's cabinet plann'd, That all may exult in the ray.

"The volume divine, is the river so clear, Which flows from the mystical throne; Its streams o'er earth's deserts shall roll far and near,

To millions in every zone.

"And many swift heralds shall run to and fro, To preach it in every tongue,

Till the green ocean isles in its radiance glow, And the waves roll the tidings along.

"A light in the east, like the blushes of morn, The varied missions dispense,

And soon shall the mountain-top handful of

"The valleys of palm, and the mountains of fir,
Shall glow in the day-star's mild rays;
The South-ocean savage no longer shall err,
Perplex'd in idolatry's maze.

"A star in the north, a bright Pleiades star,
Shall rival the light of the sun;
When oceans of ice polar avenues bar,
To Greenland glad tidings shall run.

"O'er Libyan deserts, Numidian sands,
The Cross shall in majesty shine,
In Hottentot regions and Caffra lands,
Shall blaze the Millennial sign.

REVIEW.-Journal of a Second Voyage for the Discovery of a North-West Passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific, performed in the years 1821, 1822, 1823, in His Majesty's Ships Fury and Hecla, under the orders of Capt. Wm. Ed. Parry, R.N. F.R.Š. and Commander of the Expedition. Illustrated by numerous Plates. Published by authority of the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty. London. John Murray, Publisher to the Admiralty and Board of Longitude. 1824. pp. 571.

THE intensity of interest excited by any enterprise, seems to be, most

dream,

And found that my fancy had wove A subject, that always has been my blest theme,

And shall to the end have my love.

Shrewsbury.

JOSHUA MARSDEN.

ficulty and danger attached to the undertaking. In the present instance we find the prince and the mechanic, the government and the people, all equally anxious for information from these expeditions of research and curiosity. But if a north-west pas