Where nought Substantial, but our Misery?
Where Joy (if Joy) but heightens our Distress,
So foon to perifh, and revive no more?
The greater fuch a Joy, the more it pains.
A World, where dark, myfterious Vanity
Of Good, and Ill, the diftant Colours blends,
Confounds all Reafon, and all Hope destroys;
Reason, and Hope, our fole Afylum Here!
A World, fo far from Great (and yet how Great
It fhines to Thee!) there's nothing Real in it;
Being, a Shadow! Confcioufnefs, a Dream!
A Dream, how dreadful! Univerfal Blank
Before it, and Behind! Poor Man;, a Spark
From Non-existence ftruck by Wrath divine,
Glitt❜ring a Moment, nor that Moment fure,
'Midft Upper, Nether, and furrounding Night,
His Sad, Sure, Sudden, and Eternal Tomb!
LORENZO! doft Thou feel these Arguments?
Or is there nought but Vengeance can be felt?
How haft Thou dar'd the DEITY dethrone ?
How dar'd indict Him of a World like This?
If fuch the World, Creation was a Crime;
For what is Crime, but Cause of Mifery?
Retract, Blafphemer! And unriddle This,
Of endless Arguments above, below,
Without us, and within, the fhort Refult---
"IF Man's Immortal, there's a GOD in Heaven."
But wherefore fuch Redundancy? Such Wafte Of Argument? One fets my Soul at Reft; One obvious, and at Hand, and, Oh !-at Heart. So just the Skies, PHILANDER'S Life so pain'd, His Heart so pure, that, or fucceeding Scenes Have Palms to give, or ne'er had He been born.
"What an old Tale is This !" LORENZO cries.-
I grant this Argument is old; but Truth
No Years impair; and had not This been True,
Thou never hadft defpis'd it for its Age.
Truth is Immortal as thy Soul; and Fable.
As fleeting as thy Joys: Be wife, nor make
Heav'n's highest Bleffing, Vengeance; O be wife!
Nor make a Curse of Immortality.
Say, know'ft Thou what It is? Or what Thou art? Know'ft Thou th' Importance of a Soul Immortal? Behold this Midnight Glory: Worlds on Worlds! Amazing Pomp! Redouble this Amaze;
Ten thousand add; add twice Ten thousand more; Then weigh the Whole; One Soul outweighs them All; And calls th' aftonifhing Magnificence
Of unintelligent Creation poor.
For This, believe not me; no Man believe; Trust not in Words, but Deeds; and Deeds no lefs Than thofe of the SUPREME; nor His, a Few;
Confult them All; confulted, All proclaim
Thy Soul's Importance: Tremble at Thyfelf;
For whom Omnipotence has wak'd fo long:
Has wak'd, and work'd, for Ages; from the Birth
Of Nature to this Unbelieving Hour.
In this finall Province of His vaft Domain
(All Nature bow, while I pronounce his Name !)
What has GOD done, and not for this sole End,
To rescue Souls from Death? The Soul's high Price
Is writ in all the Conduct of the Skies.
The Soul's bigh Price is the Creation's Key,
Unlocks its Mysteries, and naked lays
The genuine Caufe of ev'ry Deed divine :
That, is the Chain of Ages, which maintains
Their obvious Correfpondence, and unites
Moft diftant Periods in One bleft Defign.:
That, is the mighty Hinge, on which have turn'd
All Revolutions, whether we regard
The Natral, Civil, or Religious, World;
The Former Two, but Servants to the Third:
To That their Duty done, they both expire,
Their Mafs new-caft, forgot their Deeds renown'd ;
And Angels afk, "Where once they fhone so fair ?"
To lift us from this Abject, to Sublime;
This Flux, to Permanent; this Dark, to Day;
This Foul, to Fure; this Turbid, to Serene;
This Mean, to Mighty!-for this glorious End
Th' ALMIGHTY, rifing, his long Sabbath broke; The World was Made; was Ruin'd; was Reftor'd; Laws from the Skies were Publish'd; were Repeal'd; OnEarth Kings, Kingdoms, rofe; Kings, Kingdoms,fell; Fam'd Sages lighted up the Pagan World;
Prophets from Sion darted a keen Glance
Thro' diftant Age; Saints travell'd; Martyrs bled;
By Wonders facred Nature stood controul'd;
The Living were Tranflated, Dead were Rais'd;
Angels, and more than Angels, came from Heaven;
And, oh! for This, defcended lower still;
Gilt was Hell's Gloom; aftonifht at his Guest,
For one fhort Moment LUCIFER ador'd:
LORENZO! and wilt Thou do lefs ?-For This,
That Hallow'd Page, Fools fcoff at, was infpir'd,
Of all these Truths thrice-venerable Code!
Deifts! perform your Quarentine; and then,
Fall proftrate, ere you touch it, left you die.
Nor less intensely bent Infernal Powers
To mar, than those of Light, this End to gain.
O what a Scene is Here!LORENZO! wake ;
Rife to the Thought; exert, expand, thy Soul
To take the vaft Idea: It denies
All else the Name of Great. Two warring Worlds!
Not Europe against Afric; Warring Worlds,
Of more than Mortal! mounted on the Wing!
On ardent Wings of Energy, and Zeal,
High-hov'ring o'er this little Brand of Strife!
This fublunary Ball-But Strife, for what?
In their own Caufe conflicting? No; in Thine,
In Man's. His fingle Int'reft blows the Flame;
His the fole Stake; His Fate the Trumpet founds!
Which kindles War Immortal. How it burns!
Tumultuous Swarms of Deities in Arms!
Force Force opposing, till the Waves run high,
And tempest Nature's univerfal Sphere.
Such Oppofites Eternal, Stedfaft, Stern,
Such Foes Implacable, are Good, and Ill;
Yet Man, vain Man, would mediate Peace between them.
Think not this Fiction. "There was War in Heaven." From Heav'n's high crystal Mountain where It hung, Th' ALMIGHTY's outstretcht Arm took down his Bow: And fhot his Indignation at the Deep :
Re-thunder'd Hell, and darted all her Fires.--
And seems the Stake of little Moment still ?
And flumbers Man, who fingly caus'd the Storm?
He fleeps.-And art Thou shockt at Mysteries?
The Greateft, Thou. How dreadful to reflect,
What Ardor, Care, and Counsel, Mortals caufe
In Breafts Divine! How little in their own!
Where-e'er I turn, how new Proofs pour upon me! How happily This wond'rous View fupports My Former Argument! How strongly strikes Immortal Life's full Demonftration, Here! Why this Exertion? Why this ftrange Regard
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