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And open'd' there a Font for all Mankind,
Who strive, who combat Crimes, to drink, and live :
This, only this fubdues the Fear of Death.

And what is-This?-Survey the wond'rous Curé: And at each Step, let higher Wonder rise! 66 Pardon for infinite Offence ! and Pardon “ Thro' Means that speak its Value infinite ! A Pardon bought with Blood ! with Blood Divine ! 86. With Blood Divine of Him I made my Foe! “ Perfifted to provoke! tho' woo'd, and aw'd, “ Bleft, and chastiz'd, a flagrant Rebel Atill! " A Rebel 'midst the Thunders of his Throne ! « Nor I alone! a Rebel Universe! “ My Species up in Arms! not One exempt ! 6 Yet for the fouleft of the Foul He dies. “ Most joy'd for the Redeem'd from deepest Guilt! 86 As if our Race was held of highest Rank ; " And Godhead dearer, aş more Man! Bound ev'ry Heart! and ev'ry Bofom burn! Oh what a Scale of Miracles is here! Its lowest Round, high-planted on the Skies ;: Its tow'ring Summit loft beyond the Thought Of Man, or Angel: Oh that I could climb The wonderful Afcent, with equal Praise.!. Praise! flow for ever (if Astonishment Will give thee Leave) my Praise.!- for ever flow ;; Praise Ardent, Cordial, Conftant, to High Heav'n More fragrant than Arabia facrific’d; And all her spicy Mountains in a flame.

So dear, so due to Heav'ng. Ihall Praise descend
With her soft Plume, (from plausive Angels wing.
First pluck'd by Man) to tickle mortal Ears,
Thus diving in the Pockets of the Great ?.
Is Praise the Perquisite of ev'ry Paw,,
Tho' black as Hell, that grapples well for Gold ??
Oh love of Gold! thou meanest of Amours !


Shall Praise her Odours waste on Virtue's Dead,
Embalm the Base, perfume the Stench of Guilt,
Earn dirty Bread by washing Æthiops fair,
Removing filth, or finking it from fight,
A Scavenger in Scenes, where vacant Posts,
Like Gibbets, yet untenanted, expect
Their future Ornaments ? From Courts, and Thrones
Return, apoftate Praife! Thou Vagabond!
Thou Proftitute! to thy first Love return,
Thy first, thy greatest, once unrivall’d Theme.

There flow redundant; like Meander flow
Back to thy Fountain ; to that parent Pow'r,
Who gives the Tongue to found, the Thought to foar
The Soul to Be. Men homage pay to Men,
Thoughtless beneath whose dreadful Eye they bow
In mutual Awe profound, of Clay to Clay,
Of Guilt to Guilt, and turn their Backs on Thee,
Great Sire ! whom Thrones.celestial ceaseless.fing;
To proftrate Angels an amazing Scene!
Oh the Presumption, of Man's Awe for Man'!
Man’s Author ! End! Restorer ! Law! and Judge!
Thine All; Day thine, and thine this gloom of Nights
With all her Wealth, with all her radiant Worlds :
What, Night eternal, but a Frown from Thee?
What, Heav'n's meridian Glory, but Thy Smile?
And shall not Praise be Thine? not Human Praise?
While Heay'n's high Hoft on Hallelujahs live?

I breath‘no longer than I breath My Soul in praise to Him, who gave my Soul, And all her Infinite of Prospect fair, Cut thro' the Shades of Hell, great Love! by Thea Oh most adorable! most unador'd! Where shall that Praise begin which ne'er should end? Where'er I turn, what Claim on all Applause.? How is Night's fable mantle labour'd o’er,


How richly wrought with Attributes divine?
What Wisdom shines ? what Love? This midnight

This gorgeous Arch, with golden Worlds inlay'd ;
Built with divine Ambition ! nought to Thee ;
For Others this Profufion : Thou, apart,
Above, beyond! oh tell me, mighty Mind !
Where art Thou? shall I dive into the Deep?
Call to the Sun, or ask the roaring Winds,
For their Creator? fhall I question loud
The Thunder, if in that th' Almighty dwells ?
Or holds He furious Storms in streighten'd Reins,
And bids fierce Whirlwinds wheel his rapid Car?

What mean these Questions !--trembling I retract;
My proftrate Soul adores the present God;
Praise I a distant Deity ? He tunes
My Voice (if tun'd ;) the Nerve, that writes, sustains;
Wrap'd in his Being I refound his Praise :
But tho paft All diffus’d, without a Shore,
His Essence ; local is His Throne, (as meet)
To gather the Dispers’d (as Standards call

The Lifted from afar) to fix a Point,
A central Point, collective of his Sons,
Since finite ev'ry Nature, but his own.

The nameless He, whose Nod is Nature's Birth;
And Nature's Shield the Shadow of his Hand;
Her Diffolution, his suspended Smile;
The great First-last! pavilion'd high he fits
In Darkness, from excessive Splendor, born,
By Gods unseen, unless through Luftre loft.
His Glory to created Glory bright,
As that to central Horrors; He looks down
On all that soars ; and spans Immensity.

Tho' Night unnumber'd Worlds unfolds to view,
Boundless Creation ! what art thou ? a Beam,



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A meer

A meer Efluvium of his Majesty :
And shall an Atom of this Atom-World,
Mutter in Duft, and Sin, the Theme of Heav'n?
Down to the Center Thou'd I send my Thought,
Thro' Beds of g litt’ring Ore, and glowing Gems,
Their beggar'd Blaze wants Luftre for my Lay ;
Goes out in Darkness : If, on tow'ring Wing,
I send it thro' the boundless Vault of Stars ;
The Stars, tho' rich, what Dross their Gold to Thee,
Great! Good! Wife ! Wonderful! Eternal King?
If to those conscious Stars thy Throne around,
Praise ever-pouring, and imbibing Bliss,
And ask their Strain ; They want it, more they want ;
Poor their Abundance, humble their Sublime,
Languid their Energy, their Ardor cold,
Indebted ftill, their highest Rapture burns ;
Short of its Mark, Defective, tho' Divine.

Still more-This Theme is Man's, and Man's alone;
Their vast Appointments reach it not; They see
On Earth a Bounty, not indulg'd on high ;
And downward look for Heav'n's superior Praise !
Firft-born of Æther! high in Fields of Light!
View Man, to see the Glory of your God!
Cou'd Angels envy, they had envy'd here;
And some did envy ; and the rest, tho' Gods,
Yet ftill Gods unredeem'd, (there triumphs Man,
Tempted to weigh the Dust against the Skies)
They less wou'd feel, tho' more adorn, my Theme.
They sung Creation, (for in that they shar'd)
How rose in Melody, the Child of Love ?
Creation's great Superior, Man! is thine ;
Thine is Redemption; They just gave the Key,
'Tis thine to raise, and eternize, the Song;
Tho' human, yet divine ; for shou'd not this
Raise Man o'er Man, and kindle Seraphs bere?

Redemption !

Redemption! 'twas Creation more Sublime;
Redemption ! 'twas the Labour of the Skies:
Far more than Labour-It was Death in Heav'ne
A Truth so strange! 'twere bold to think it true ;
If not far bolder still, to disbelieve.
Here pause, and ponder: Was there Death in Hea-

What then on Earth? On Earth which struck the Blow!
Who struck it? Who 1-0 how is Man enlarg'd
Seen thro’this Medium ? How the Pigmy tow'rs?
How counterpois'd his Origin from Duft?
How counterpois'd, to Duft his fad Return?
How voided his vaft Distance from the Skies?
How near he presses on the Seraph's Wing?
Which is the Seraph ? Which the Born of Clay?
How This demonftrates, thro’ the thickest Cloud
Of Guilt, and Clay condens'd, the Son of Heav'n?
The double Son; the Made, and the Re-made;
And shall Heav'n's double Property be lost?
Man's double Madness only can destroy.
To Man the bleeding Cross has promis'd all ;
The bleeding Cross has sworn eternal Grace ;
Who gave his Life, what Grace shall he deny ?
O ye! who from this Rock of Ages leap
Disdainful, plunging headlong in the Deep!
What cordial Joy, what Confolation strong
Whatever Winds arise, or Billows roll,
Our Inter’ft in the Master of the Storm ?
Cling there, and in wreck?d.Nature's Ruins smile;
While vile Apoftates tremble in a Calm.

Man! Know thyself; all Wisdom centers there:
To none Man seems ignoble, but to Man ;
Angels that Grandeur, Men o'erlook, admire;
How long shall Human Nature be Their Book,
Degén’rate Mortal ! and unread by Thee?


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