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Thy Hundred-Gated Capitals? or Those
Where Three Days Travel left us much to ride
Gazing on Miracles by Mortals wrought,
Arches triumphal, Theatres immense,
Or nodding Gardens pendent in Mid Air ?
Select Or Temples proud to meet their Gods Half-way ?
Yet Those affect us in no common Kind ;
What then the Force of such superior Scenes ?
Enter a Temple, it will strike an Awe;
What Awe from This the DEITY has built ?
A Good Man feen, tho’ filent, Counsel gives ;,
The touch'd Spectator wishes to be Wise:
In a bright Mirror His own Hands have made,
Here we see Something like the Face of GOD:
Seems it not then enough, to say, Lorenzo !
To Man abandon'd, “ Haft thou seen the Skies ?"
And yet, so thwarted Nature's kind Design,
By daring Man, he makes her sacred Awe,
That Guard from Ill, his Shelter, his Temptation
To more than common Guilt, and quite inverts
Celestial Art's Intent: The trembling Stars
See Crimes gigantic, stalking thro' the Gloom
With Front erect, that hide their Head by Day,
And making Night still darker by their Deeds :
Slumb'ring in Covert, till the Shades descend,
Rapine, and Murder, link’d, now prowl for Prey:
The Miser earths his Treasure ; and the Thief,
Watching the Mole, half-beggars him e'er Morn;
Now Plots, and foul Conspiracies, awake;
And, muffling up their Horrors from the Moon, it
Havock, and Devastation, they prepare,
And Kingdoms tott'ring in the field of Blood;
Now Sons of Riot in Mid-Revel rage :
What shall I do?- suppress it? or proclaim ?-
Why sleeps the Thunder ? Now, LORENZO ! now,
His best Friend's Couch the rank Adulterer
Ascends secure; and laughs at Gods, and Men:
Prepoft'rous Madmen, void of Fear or Shame,
Lay their Crimes bare to these chaste Eyes of Heav'n;
Yet shrink, and shudder, ataa Mortal's Sight.
Were Moon, and Stars, for Villains only made ?
To guide, yet screen them, with tenebrious Light?
No; they were made to fashion the Sublime
Of human Hearts, and wifer make the Wife.
Those Ends were anfwerd once; when Mortals liv'd
Of Stronger Wing, of Aquiline Ascent;
In Theory Sublime : O how unlike
Those Vermin of the Night, this Moment fung)
Who crawl on Earth, and on her Venom feed?
Those ancient Sages, Human Stars ! They met.
Their Brothers of the Skies, at Midnight-Hour;
Their Counsel ask'd ; and, what they ask'd, obey'd.
The Stagyrite; and Plato ; He who drank
The poison d Bowl; and He of Tufculum;
With him of Corduba (immortal Names !);
In these Unbounded, and Elysian, Walks,
An Area fit for Gods, and Godlike Men,
They took their nightly Round, thro' radiant Paths
By Seraphs trod; inftructed, chiefly, thus,
To tread in Their bright Footsteps here Below ;
To walk in Worth ftill brighter than the Skies:
There, they contracted their contempt of Eartb;
Of Hopes eternal kindled, There, the Fire ;
There, as in near Approach, they głow'd, and grew
(Great Visitants !) more intimate with GOD,
More worth to Men, more joyous to Themselves :
Thro' various Virtues, they, with Ardor, ran
The Zodiac of their learn'd, illustrious Lives.
In Chriflian Hearts, O for a Pagan Zeal!
A needful, but opprobrious Pray'r! As much
Our Ardor Less, as Greater is our Light :
How monstrous This in Moraks? Scarce more strange
Would this Phænomenon in Nature strike,
A Sun, that froze us, or a Star, that warm'd.
WHAT taught these Heroes of the Moral World ?
To These thou giv'ft thy Praise, give Credit too ;
These Doctors ne'er were penfion’d to deceive thee ;
And Pagan Tutors are thy Tafte. They taught,
That, Narrow Views betray to Misery ;
That, Wise it is to comprehend the Whole;
That, Virtue rose from Nature, ponder'd well;
The fingle Base of Virtue built to Heav'n ;
That GOD, and Nature, our Attention claim ;
That, Nature is the Glass reflecting GOD,
As, by the Sea, reflected is the Sun,
Too glorious to be gaz'd on in his Sphere;
That, Mind, immortal, loves immortal Aims;
Tbat, boundless Mind affects a boundless Space ;
That, Vaft Surveys, and the Sublime of Things,
The Soul assimilate, and make her Great ;
That, therefore, Heav'n her Glories, as a Fund
Of Inspiration, thus spreads out to Man.
Such are their Doctrines; Such the Night inspir’d.
And what more True? What Truth of greater
The Soul of Man was made to walk the Skies ;
Delightful Outlet of her Prison Here!
There, disincumber'd from her Chains, the Ties
Of Toys terrestrial, she can rove at large ;
There, freely can respire, dilate, extend,
In full Proportion let loose all her Pow'rs ;
And, undeluded, grasp at something Great :
Nor, as a Stranger, does the wander There;
But, wonderful Herself, thro' Wonders ftrays;
Contemplating their Grandeur, finds her own;
Dives deep in their Oeconomy divine,
Sits high in Judgment on their various Laws,
And, like a Master, judges not amiss :
Hence, greatly pleas'd, and justly proud, the Souí
Grows conscious of her Birth celeftial; breathes
More Life, more Vigour, in her native Air ;
And feels herself at home among the Stars ;
And, feeling, emulates her Country's Praise.
What call we, then, the Firmament, LORENZO !
As Earth the Body, since, the Skies fustain
The Soul with Food, that gives immortal Life,
Call it, The noble Pasture of the Mind,
Which there expatiates, ftrengthens, and exults,
And riots thro' the Luxuries of Thought :
Call it, The Garden of the DEITY,
Blossom’d with Stars, redundant in the Growth
Of Fruit ambrosial ; moral Fruit to Man:
Call it, The Breaft-plate of the true High-Prieft,
Ardent with Gems oracular, that give,
In Points of highest Moment, right Responses
And ill-neglected, if we prize our Peace.
Tius, have we found a true Aitrology ; Thus have we found a new, and noble, Sense, In which alone Stars govern human Fates :
that the Stars (as some have feign'd) let fall Bloodshed, and Havock, on embattled Realms, And rescu'd Monarchs from so black a Guilt! BOURBON ! this With how gen'rous in a Foe? Wouldīt thou be Great, wouldst thou become a God, And stick thy deathless Name among the Stars, For mighty Conquests on a Needle's Point ? Instead of Forging Chains for Foreigners, Bafiile thy Tutor : Grandeur All thy Aim ? As yet thou know'ít not what it is : How Great, How Glorious, then, appears the Mind of Man, When in it All the Stars, and Planets, roll? And what it seems, it is : Great Objects make Great Minds, enlarging as their Views enlarge ; Those still more Godlike, as These more Divine.
And more divine than These, thou canst not fee:
Dazzled, o'erpower'd, with the delicious Draught
Of miscellaneous Splendors, how I reel
From Thought to Thought, inebriate, without End?
An Eden, This! a PARADISE un-loft!
I meet the DEITY in ev'ry View,
And tremble at my Nakedness before Him!
O that I could but reach the Tree of Life!
For Here it grows, unguarded from our Taste;
No Flaming-Sword denies our Entrance Here;
Would Man but gather, he might live for ever.
LORENZO! much of Moral hast thou feen :
Of curious Arts art thou more fond ? Then mark
The Mathematic Glories of the Skies :
In Number, Weight, and Measure, All ordain'd;
LORENZO's boasted Builders, Cbance, and Fate,
Are left to finish his aerial Tow'rs;
Wisdom, and Choice, their well-known Characters
Here deep impress; and claim it for their Own:
Tho' splendid All, no Splendor void of Use;
Use rivals Beauty ; Art contends with Pow'r ;
No wanton Walte, amid effuse Expence ;
The Great OECONOMIST adjusting All
To prudent Pomp, magnificently Wife:
How rich the Prospect ! and for ever New!
And newest to the Man that views it moft ;
For Newer still in Infinite fucceeds :
Then, These aerial Racers, O how Swift ?
How the Shaft loiters from the strongest String!
Spirit Alone can distance the Career.
Orb above Orb ascending without End !
Circle in Circle, without End, inclos'd!
Wheel within Wheel, EZEKIEL! like to Thine!
Like Thine, it seems a Vision, or a Dream;
Tho' seen, we labour to believe it true!
What Involation! What Extent! What Swarms