Imagens da página
PDF
ePub

;

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

Tho' Nature's Terrors, thus, may be repreft ;
Still frowns grim Deatb; Guilt points the Tyrant's

Spear. And whence all human Guilt ? from Death forgot, Ah me! too long I set at nought the Swarm Of friendly Warnings, which around me flew, And smil'd unsmitten : Small my Cause to smile ! Death's Admonitions, like Shafts upwards shot, More dreadful by Delay, the longer ere They strike our Hearts, the deeper is their Wound. O think how deep Lorenzo! here it stings ; Who can appease its Anguilh ? 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 fee, Ah! too conspicuous ! It is fix'd on higha On high-What means my Frenzy ?.I blaspheme; 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 still it bleeds ; Draw the dire Steel-Ah no !--the dreadful Blessing What Heart, or can sustain, or dares. forego ? There hangs all human Hope: That Nail supports 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 Dust; When Stars and Sun are Duft beneath his Thronet In Heav'n itself can fuch Indulgence dwell?

O what

O what a Groan was there? A Groan not His ;
He seiz'd our dreadful Right, the Load sustain’d;
And heav'd the Mountain from a guilty World.
A thousand Worlds so bought, were bought too. dear..
Sensations new, in Angels Bosoms rise ;
Suspend their Song ; and make a Pause in Bliss. .

O for their Song to reach my lofty. Theme !
Inspire me, Night! with all thy tuneful Spheres !
Much rather Tbou ! who dost those Spheres inspire ;,
Whilft I with Seraphs share seraphic Themes,
And shew to Men the Dignity of Man ;
Left I blafpheme my Subject with my Song.
Shall Pagan Pages glow celestial Flame,
And Christian 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, most tremendous Pow'r !
Still more tremendous, for thy wond'rous Love!
That arms, with Awe more awful, thy Commands ;
And foul Tranfgreflion dips in sev'nfold Night.
How our Hearts tremble at thy Love immense ?
In Love immense, inviolably Juft!
Thou, rather than thy Justice shou'd be stain'd,
Didit stain the Cross; and Work of Wonders far
The greatest, that thy Dearest far might bleed.

Bold Thought ! shall I dare speak it? or repress?
Shou'd Man more execrate, or boast, the Guilt,
Which rouz'd such Vengeance? which such Love

inflam'd? O'er Guilt (how mountainous!) with outstretch'd Arms,

Stern)

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

Stern Justice, and soft-smiling Love, embrace,
Supporting, in full Majesty, thy Throne,
When feem'd its Majesty to need Support,
Or that, or Man inevitably loft ?
What, but the Fathomless of Thought Divine,
Cou'd labour fuch Expedient from Despair,
And rescue both ? Both rescue! Both exalt!:

how are both exalted by the Deeda:
The wond'rous Deed; or shall I call it more?
A Wonder in Omnipotence itself !
A Mystery, no less to Gods than Men!

Not, thus, our Infidels th’ Eternal draw,
A God all o'er, consummate, absolute,
Full-orb'd, in his whole Round of Rays compleat :
They set at odds Heav'n's järring 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 unjuft.

Ye brainless Wits! ye baptiz'd Infidels!
Ye worse før mending ! walh'd to fouler Stains !
The Ransom was paid down; the Fund of Heaving
Heav'n's inexhaustible, exhaufted Fund,
Amazing, and amaz'd, pour'd forth the Price,
All Price beyond: Tho' curious to compute,
Archangels fail'd to cast the mighty Sum:
Its Value vaft ungrasp'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 such as This; not such 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! didft thou fly thy Maker's Pain? or start
At that enormous Load of human Guilt,
Which bow'd his blessed Head; o'erwhelm'd his Cross ;
Made

groan the Center ; burst Earth's marble Wombs With Pangs, ftrange Pangs I deliver'à of her Dead; Hell howl'd; and Heav'n that Hour let fall a Tear ; Heav'n wept, that Men might smile ! Heav'n bled,

that Man Might never die!

And is Devotion Virtuc? 'Tis compell"d; What Heart of Stone, but glows at Thoughts like

Thefe ? Such Contempłations mount us; and fou'd mount The Mind still higher ; nor ever glance on Man, Unraptur'd, uninflam'd. - Where roll my Thoughts To reft from Wonders ? other Wonders rise, And strike where'er they roll: My Soul is caught; Heav'n's fov'reign Blekiings clust'ring from the Cross, Rush on her in a Throng, and close her round, The Pris'ner of Amaze !--- In his bleft Life, I see the Path, and in his Death, the Price, And in his great Afcent, the Proof Supreme Of Immortality ----And did he rise? Hear, Oye Nations ! hear it, Oye Dead ! He rose ! he rose! 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, whose Glory fillid
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! crush'd Sting! demolish'd Throne ! Laft Gasp of Vanquilh d Death. Shout Earth and

Heav'n!
This Sum of Good, to Man : Whose Nature, then,
Took Wing, and mounted with Him from the Tomb.
Then, then I rose; then first Humanity
Triumphant paft the Chryftal Ports of Light,
(Stupendous Guests !) and seiz'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, ail-immortal! Hail;
Hail, Heav'nl all-lavish of ftrange Gifts to Man!
Thine all the Glory; Man's the boundless Bliss.

Where am I rapt by this triumphant Theme,
On Christian Joy's exulting wing, above
Thi Aonian Mount ? --Alas, small Cause for Joy !
What if to Pain immortal ? If Extent
Of Being, to preclude a Close of Woe?
Where, then, my boast of Immortality ?--
I boast it still, tho' cover'd o'er with Guilt ;
For Guilt, not Innocence, His Life He pour'd;
"Tis Guilt alone can juftify 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

« AnteriorContinuar »