A Rife in Bleffing! with the Patriarch's Joy,
Thy call I follow to the Land unknown;
I truft in Thee, and know in whom I trust;
Or Life, or Death, is equal; neither weighs,
All Weight in this-O let me live to Thee!

Tho' Nature's Terrors, thus, may be repreft;

Still frowns grim Death; Guilt points the Tyrant's
Spear.

And whence all human Guilt? from Death forgot,
Ah me! too long I fet at nought the Swarm
Of friendly Warnings, which around me flew,
And fmil'd unfmitten: Small my Cause to smile!
Death's Admonitions, like Shafts upwards shot,
More dreadful by Delay, the longer ere

They ftrike our Hearts, the deeper is their Wound.
O think how deep Lorenzo! here it ftings;
Who can appease its Anguish? how it burns?
What Hand the barb'd, envenom'd Thought can draw?
What healing Hand can pour the Balm of Peace,
And turn my Sight undaunted on the Tomb?
With Joy,-with Grief, that Healing Hand I see,
Ah! too confpicuous! It is fix'd on high.

On high? What means my Frenzy ?.I blafpheme;
Alas! how low? how far beneath the Skies?
The Skies it form'd; and now it bleeds for me-
But bleeds the Balm I want-yet ftill it bleeds;
Draw the dire Steel-Ah no !-the dreadful Bleffing
What Heart, or can fuftain, or dares, forego?
There hangs all human Hope: That Nail fupports
Our falling Universe: That gone, we drop;
Horror receives us, and the dismal Wish
Creation had been smother'd in her Birth-
Darkness His Curtain, and his Bed the Duft;

When Stars and Sun are Duft beneath his Throne!
In Heav'n itself can fuch Indulgence dwell?

O what

O what a Groan was there? A Groan not His;
He feiz'd our dreadful Right, the Load fuftain'd;
And heav'd the Mountain from a guilty World.
A thousand Worlds fo bought, were bought too.dear..
Senfations new, in Angels Bofoms rife ;

Sufpend their Song; and make a Pause in Bliss.
O for their Song to reach my lofty Theme!
Infpire me, Night! with all thy tuneful Spheres!
Much rather Thou! who doft thofe Spheres infpire ;.
Whilft I with Seraphs fhare feraphic Themes,
And shew to Men the Dignity of Man;
Left I blafpheme my Subject with my Song.
Shall Pagan Pages glow celeftial Flame,

And Chriftian languish? On our Hearts, not Heads,.
Falls the foul Infamy: My Heart! awake,
What can awake thee, unawak'd by this,
"Expended Deity on human Weal."

Feel the great Truths, which burft the tenfold Night
Of Heathen Error, with a golden Flood

Of endless Day: To feel, is to be fir'd;
And to believe, Lorenzo! is to feel.

Thou most indulgent, moft tremendous Pow'r!
Still more tremendous, for thy wond'rous Love!
That arms, with Awe more awful, thy Commands;
And foul Tranfgreffion dips in fev'nfold Night.
How our Hearts tremble at thy Love immense?
In Love immenfe, inviolably Juft!

Thou, rather than thy Juftice fhou'd be ftain'd,
Didst stain the Cross; and Work of Wonders far
The greatest, that thy Dearest far might bleed.

Bold Thought! fhall I dare fpeak it? or reprefs?. Shou'd Man more execrate, or boaft, the Guilt, Which rouz'd fuch Vengeance? which fuch Love inflam'd?

O'er Guilt (how mountainous!) with outftretch'd Arms, Stern

Stern Juftice, and foft-fmiling Love, embrace,
Supporting, in full Majefty, thy Throne,
When feem'd its Majesty to need Support,
Or that, or Man inevitably loft ?

What, but the Fathomlefs of Thought Divine,
Cou'd labour fuch Expedient from Defpair,
And rescue both? Both rescue! Both exalt !
how are both exalted by the Deed?
The wond'rous Deed; or fhall I call it more ♪
A Wonder in Omnipotence itself !

A Mystery, no lefs to Gods than Men!

Not, thus, our Infidels th' Eternal draw,
A God all o'er, confummate, abfolute,
Full-orb'd, in his whole Round of Rays compleat
They fet at odds Heav'n's jarring Attributes;
And with one Excellence another wound;
Maim Heav'n's Perfection, break its equal Beams,
Bid Mercy. triumph over---God himself,
Unedify'd by their opprobrious Praise :
A God All Mercy is a God unjust.

Ye brainless Wits! ye baptiz'd Infidels!
Ye worse for mending! wafh'd to fouler Stains!"
The Ranfom was paid down; the Fund of Heav'n,
Heav'n's inexhaustible, exhausted Fund,

Amazing, and amaz'd, pour'd forth the Price,
All Price beyond: Tho' curious to compute,
Archangels fail'd to caft the mighty Sum:
Its Value vast ungrafp'd by Minds Create
For ever hides, and glows, in the Supreme.
And was the Ransom paid? It was: and paid
(What can exalt the Bounty more ?) for You.
The Sun beheld it-No, the shocking Scene
Drove back his Chariot; Midnight veil'd his Face ;.
Not fuch as This; not fuch as Nature makes;
A Midnight Nature fhudder'd to behold ;.

A

A Midnight new! a dread Eclipse (without
Oppofing Spheres) from her Creator's Frown!
Sun! didst thou fly thy Maker's Pain? or start
At that enormous Load of human Guilt,

Which bow'd his bleffed Head; o'erwhelm'd his Crofs;
Made groan
the Center; burft Earth's marble Womb
With Pangs, ftrange Pangs! deliver'd of her Dead;
Hell howl'd; and Heav'n that Hour let fall a Tear;
Heav'n wept, that Men might fmile! Heav'n bled,
that Man

Might never die!

And is Devotion Virtue? "Tis compell'd;

What Heart of Stone, but glows at Thoughts like
Thefe ?

Such Contemplations mount us; and fhou'd mount
The Mind ftill higher; nor ever glance on Man,
Unraptur'd, uninflam'd.-Where roll my Thoughts
To reft from Wonders? other Wonders rife,
And strike where'er they roll: My Soul is caught;
Heav'n's fov'reign Bleffings cluft'ring from the Crofs,
Rush on her in a Throng, and close her round,
The Pris'ner of Amaze !---In his bleft Life,
I fee the Path, and in his Death, the Price,
And in his great Afcent, the Proof Supreme
Of Immortality.----And did he rife ...
Hear, O ye Nations! hear it, O ye Dead!
He rofe! he rofe! he burft the Bars of Death!
Lift up your Heads, ye everlasting Gates!
And give the King of Glory to come in.
Who is the King of Glory? He who left
His Throne of Glory, for the Pang of Death:
Lift up your Heads, ye everlasting Gates!
And give the King of Glory to come in.
Who is the King of Glory? He who flew

The rav'nous Foe, that gorg'd all human Race!

The

The King of Glory, He, whofe Glory fill'd
Heav'n with Amazement at his Love to Man;
And with Divine Complacency beheld

Pow'rs moft illumin'd wilder'd in the Theme.

The Theme, the Joy, how then shall Man sustain ? Oh the burst Gates! crufh'd Sting! demolish'd Throne ! Laft Gafp of Vanquish'd Death. Shout Earth and Heav'n!

This Sum of Good, to Man: Whofe Nature, then,
Took Wing, and mounted with Him from the Tomb.
Then, then I rofe; then firft Humanity
Triumphant paft the Chrystal Ports of Light,
(Stupendous Guefts!) and feiz'd eternal Youth,
Seiz'd in our Name. E'er fince, 'tis blafphemous
To call Man mortal. Man's Mortality-

Was, then, transfer'd to Death; and Heav'n's Du ration

Unalienably feal'd to this frail Frame,

This Child of Duft.-Man, all-immortal! Hail;
Hail, Heav'n all-lavish of ftrange Gifts to Man!
Thine all the Glory; Man's the boundless Blifs.

Where am I rapt by this triumphant Theme,
On Christian Joy's exulting wing, above
Th' Aonian Mount ?—Alas, fmall Cause for Joy!
What if to Pain immortal? If Extent

Of Being, to preclude a Close of Woe?
Where, then, my boaft of Immortality ?--
I boast it ftill, tho' cover'd o'er with Guilt
For Guilt, not Innocence, His Life He pour'd;
'Tis Guilt alone can justify His Death
Nor that, unless His Death can justify
Relenting Guilt in Heav'n's indulgent Sight.
If fick of Folly, I relent; He writes
My Name in Heav'n, with that inverted Spear
(A Spear deep-dipt in Blood!) which pierc'd his Side,

And