"Suggested by my Pillow, fign'd by Fate,
"First, in Fate's Volume, at the Page of Man) "Man's fickly Soul, tho' turn'd, and tofs'd for-ever, "From Side to Side, can reft on nought but THEE; "Here, in full Truft; Hereafter, in full Joy. "On THEE, the promis'd, fure, eternal Down "Of Spirits, toil'd in Travel thro' this Vale: "Nor of that Pillow fhall my Soul defpond; "For-Love Almighty! Love Almighty! (Sing, "Exult, Creation!) Love Almighty, reigns! "That Death of Death! That Cordial of Despair! "And loud ETERNITY's triumphant Song !
"OF Whom, no more:-For, O Thou Patron"GOD!
"Thou God, and Mortal! Thence more GOD to Man! "Man's Theme eternal! Man's eternal Theme! "THOU canft not 'scape uninjur'd from our Praife. "Uninjur'd from our Praise can He escape, "Who, difembofom'd from the FATHER, bows "The Heaven of Heavens, to kiss the distant Earth! "Breathes out in Agonies a finless Soul! "Against the Cross, Death's Iron Sceptre breaks !. "From famish'd Ruin plucks her human Prey !! "Throws wide the Gates Celestial to His Foes! "Their Gratitude, for fuch a boundless Debt, Deputes their Suffering Brothers to receive! "And, if deep Human Guilt in Payment fails, "As deeper Guilt, prohibits our Despair! "Injoins it, as our Duty, to Rejoice! "And (to close All), omnipotently kind, ** Takes His Delights among the Sons of Men." WHAT Words are These?
And were they spoke to Man? To guilty Man?
What are all Myfteries to Love like This?
The Song of Angels, all the Melodies
Of Choral Gods, are wafted in the Sound;
Heal, and exhilarate, the broken Heart,
Tho' plung'd, before, in Horrors dark as-Night-
Rich Prelibation of confummate Joy !.
Nor wait we Diffolution to be bleft.
THIS. final Effort of the moral Mufe,
How justly Titled? Nor for me alone;
For all that read: What Spirit of Support,..
What Heights of CONSOLATION. crown my Song
THEN, farewel NIGHT! Of Darkness, now, no“
Joy breaks, fhines, triumphs; 'tis eternal Day.
Shall that which rifes out of Nought complain
Of a few Evils, pay'd with endless Joys?
My Soul! henceforth, in fweetest Union join
The Two Supports of Human Happiness,
Which fome, erroneous, think can never meet;
True Tafte of Life, and conftant Thought of Death ::
The Thought of Death, fole Victor of its Dread!:
Hope be thy Joy; and Probity thy Skill; -
Thy Patron, Hɛ, whose Diadem has drop'd
Yon Gems of Heaven; Eternity, thy Prize.
And leave the Racers of the World their Own,
Their Feather, and their Froth, for endless Toils;
They part with All for That which is not Bread:
They mortify, they starve, on Wealth, Fame, Power
And laugh to Scorn the Fools that aim at more.
How muft a Spirit, late efcap'd from Earth,
Suppofe Philander's, Lucia's, or Narcia's,
The Truth of Things new-blazing in its Eye,
Look back, aftonish'd, on the Ways of Men,
Whose Lives whole Drift is to forget their Graves?
And when Our prefent Privilege is past,
To scourge us with due Sense of its Abuse,.
The fame Aftonishment will feize us All.
What then must pain us, would preserve us now:
LORENZO! 'tis not yet too late: LORENZO!
Seize Wisdom, ere 'tis Torment to be Wise;
That is, Seize Wisdom, ere she feizes Thee.
For, what, my fmall Philofopher! is Hell?
"Tis nothing, but full Knowledge of the Truth,
When Truth, refifted long, is fworn our Foe;
And calls ETERNITY to do her Right.
THUS, Darkness aiding Intellectual Light,
And Sacred Silence whispering Truths Divine,
And Truths Divine converting Pain to Peace,
My Song the Midnight Raven has outwing'd,
And shot, ambitious of unbounded Scenes,.
Beyond the flaming Limits of the World,
Her gloomy Flight. But what avails the Flight.
Of Fancy, when our Hearts remain below?
Virtue abounds in Flatterers, and Foes;
"Tis Pride, to praise her; Penance to perform:
To more than Words, to more than Worth of Tongue
LORENZO! rife, at this aufpicious Hour;
An Hour, when Heaven's most intimate with Man;
When, like a falling Star, the Ray Divine
Glides fwift into the Bofom of the Juft;
And Juft are All, determin'd to reclaim ;
Which fets that Title high, within thy Reach.
Awake, then: Thy PHILANDER calls: Awake!
Thou, who fhalt wake, when the Creation fleeps;
When, like a Taper, all these Suns expire;
When TIME, like Him of Gaza in his Wrath,
Plucking the Pillars that fupport the World,
In NATURE's ample Ruins lies entomb'd;
And MIDNIGHT, Universal Midnight! reigns.
Some THOUGHTS, Occafioned by the PRESENT JUNCTURE:
To His GRACE the DUKE of NEWCASTLE, One of His Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State.
TOLLES ! Immortal in far more than Fame!
Be thou Illuftrious in far more than Power. Great Things are small, when Greater rife to View. Tho' ftation'd high, and press'd with public Cares, Difdain not to peruse my serious Song ;
Which, peradventure, may push by the World;
Of a few Moments rob Britannia's Weal;
And leave Europa's Councils lefs mature:
For thou art Noble, and the Theme is Great.
NOR fhall, or Europe, or Britannia, blame
Thine abfent Ear, but gain by the Delay.
Long-vers'd in Senates, and in Cabinets,
State's intricate Demands, and high Debates!
As Thou of Use to Thofe, fo This to Thee.
And in a Point, that Empire far outweighs,
That far outweighs all Europe's Thrones in One.
Let Greatness prove its Title to be Great.
"Tis Power's fupreme Prerogative, to ftamp
On others Minds, an Image of its own.
Bend the ftrong Influence of High-Place, to ftem
The Stream, that fweeps away thy Country's Weal;
The Stygian Stream, the Torrent, of our Guilt.
Far, as Thou may'st, give Life to Virtue's Cause;
Let not the Ties of Perfonal Regard
Betray the Nation's Trufts to feeble Hands.
Let not fomented Flames of private Pique
Prey on the Vitals of the Public Good.
Let not our Streets with Blafphemy resound ;
Nor Lewdness whisper, where the Laws can reach.
Let not best Laws, the Wisdom of our Sires,
Turn Satires on their funk, degenerate Sons,
The Baftards of their Blood! and ferve no Point,
But, with more Emphafis, to call them Fools.
Let not our rank Enormities unhinge
Britannia's Welfare from DIVINE Support.
SUCH Deeds the Minifter, the Prince, adorn:
No Power is fhewn, but in fuch Deeds as Thefe ;
All, All, is Impotence, but acting Right;
And where's the Statesman, but would fhew his Power?
To Prince, and People, Thou, of equal Zeal!
Be it, henceforward, but thy Second Care
To grace thy Country, and fupport the Throne;
'Tho' This fupported, That adorn'd, fo well.
A Throne Superior our firft Homage claims;
To Cajar's Cafar our firft Tribute's, due.
A Tribute, which, unpay'd, makes Specious Wrong,
And Splendid Sacrilege, of All befide;
Illuftrious follows! we must, first, be Juft;
And what fo Juft, as awe for the SUPREME?
Lefs fear we ragged Ruffians of the North,
Than Virtue's well-clad Rebels, nearer Home;
Lefs, Loyola's difguis'd, all apeing Sons,
Than Traitors lurking in our Appetites;
Lefs, all the Legions Seine, and Tagus, fend,
Than unrein'd Passions rushing on our Peace:
Yon favage Mountaineers are tame, to These.
Against These Rioters, send forth the Laws,
And break to Reason's Yoke their wild Careers.
PRUDENCE, for all Things, points the proper Hour,
Tho' Some feem more Importunate, and Great,
Tho' Britain's generous Views, and Interefts, spread
Beyond the narrow Circle of her Shores,
And their Grand Entries make on distant Lands;
Tho' BRITAIN's Genius the wide Waves bestrides,
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