Deep-rooted in my heart then let her grow, That for the past the future may atone; That I may act what thou hast giv'n to know, That I may live for thee and thee alone, And justify those sweetest words from Heav'n, "That he shall love thee most to whom thou'st most forgiven."">

ON THE

ETERNITY OF THE SUPREME BEING,

A POETICAL ESSAY.

A CLAUSE OF

MR. SEATON's WILL,
Dated Oct. 8, 1738.

I GIVE my Kislingbury estate to the university of Cambridge for ever: the rents of which shall be disposed of yearly by the vice-chancellor for the time being, as he the vice-chancellor, the master of Clare-Hall, and the Greek professor for the time being, or any two of them, shall agree. Which three persons aforesaid shall give out a subject, which subject shall for the first year be one or other of the perfections or attributes of the Supreme Being, and so the succeeding years, till the subject is exhausted; and afterwards the subject shall be either Death, Judgment,' Heaven, Hell, Purity of Heart, &c. or whatever else may be judged by the vicechancellor, master of Clare-Hall, and Greek professor to be most conducive to the honour of the Supreme Being and recommendation of virtue. And they shall yearly dispose of the rent of the above estate to that master of arts, whose poem on the subject given shall be best approved by them. Which poem I ordain to be always in English, and to be printed, the expense of which shall be deducted out of the product of the estate, and the residue given as a reward for the composer of the poem, or ode, or copy of

verses.

WE the underwritten, do assign Mr. Seaton's reward to C. Smart, M. A. for this

poem on The Eternity of the Supreme Being and direct the said poem to be printed, according to the tenor of the will.

EDM. KEENE, vice-chancellor. J. WILCOX, master of Clare-Hall. March 25, 1750.

HAIL, wond'rous Being, who in pow'r supreme
Exists from everlasting, whose great name
Deep in the human heart, and every atom,
The air, the earth or azure main contains,
In undecypher'd characters is wrote-
Incomprehensible!-O what can words,
The weak interpreters of mortal thoughts,

Luke vii. 41, 42, 43.

Or what can thoughts (tho' wild of wing they rove
Thro' the vast concave of th' etherial round)
If to the Heav'n of Heavens they'd wing their way
Advent'rous, like the birds of night they're lost,
And delug'd in the flood of dazzling day.—

May then the youthful, uninspired bard Presume to hymn th' Eternal; may he soar Where seraph, and where cherubin on high Resound th' unceasing plaudits, and with them In the grand chorus mix his feeble voice?

1

He may-if thou, who from the witless babe Ordainest honour, glory, strength and praise, Uplift th' unpinion'd Muse, and deign t' assist, Great Poet of the Universe, his song.

Before this earthly planet wound her course Round Light's perennial fountain, before Light Herself 'gan shine, and at th' inspiring word Shot to existence in a blaze of day,

Before "the morning-stars together sang"
And hail'd thee Architect of countless worlds-
Thou art all glorious, all-beneficent,
All wisdom and omnipotence thou art.

But is the era of creation fix'd

As when these worlds began? Cou'd aught retard
Goodness, that knows no bounds, from blessing
Or keep th' immense Artificer in sloth? [ever,
Avaunt the dust-directed crawling thought,
That puissance immeasurably vast,
And bounty inconceivable cou'd rest
Content, exhausted with one week of action-
No-in th' exertion of thy righteous pow'r,
Ten thousand times more active than the Sun,
Thou reign'd, and with a mighty hand compos'd
Systems innumerable, matchless all,
All stampt with thine uncounterfeited seal.

But yet (if still to more stupendous heights
The Muse unblam'd her aching sense may strain)
Perhaps wrapt up in contemplation deep,
The best of beings on the noblest theme
Might ruminate at leisure, scope immense
Th' eternal Pow'r and Godhead to explore,
And with itself th' omniscient mind replete.
This were enough to fill the boundless All,
This were a sabbath worthy the Supreme!
Perhaps enthron'd amidst a choicer few,
Ofsp'rits inferior, he might greatly plan
The two prime pillars of the universe,
Creation and Redemption—and a while
Pause with the grand presentiments of glory.
Perhaps but all's conjecture here below,
All ignorance, and self-plum'd vanity-
O thou, whose ways to wonder at's distrust,

Whom to describe's presumption (all we can,d And all we may-) be glorified, be prais'd.

A day shall come when all this Earth shall perish,

Nor leave behind ev'n Chaos; it shall come
When all the armies of the elements
Shall war against themselves, and mutual rage
To make perdition triumph; it shall come,
When the capacious atmosphere above
Shall in sulphureous thunders groan, and die,
And vanish into void; the Earth beneath
Shall sever in the centre, and devour
Th' enormous blaze of the destructive flames.
Ye rocks, that mock the raving of the floods,
And proudly frown upon th' impatient deep,
Where is your grandeur now? Ye foaming waves
That all along th' immense Atlantic roar,

Ye tenants of the forest and the field!
My fellow subjects of th' eternal King,
I gladly join your matins, and with you
Confess his presence, and report his praise.

O thou, who or the lambkin, or the dove,
When offer'd by the lowly, meek, and poor,
Prefer st to pride's whole hecatomb, accept
This mean essay, nor from thy treasure-house
Of Glory' immense, the orphan's might exclude.

What tho' th' Almighty's regal throne be rais'd
High o'er yon azure Heav'n's exalted dome
By mortal eye unken'd-where East nor West
Nor South, nor blust ring North has breath to
blow;

Albeit he there with angels, and with saints
Hold conference, and to his radiant host
Ev'n face to tace stand visibly confest:
Yet know that nor in presence or in pow'r
Shines he less perfect here; 'tis man's dim eye
That makes th' obscurity. He is the sane,
Alike in all his universe the same.

Whether the mind along the spangled sky
Measure her pathless walk, studious to view
Thy works of vaster fabric, where the planets
Weave their harmonious rounds, their march di-
recting

Still faithful, still inconstant to the Sun;
Or where the comet thro' space infinite
(Tho' whirling worlds oppose, and globes of fire)
Darts, like a javelin, to his destin'd goal.
Or where in Heav'n above the Heav'n of Heav'ns
Burn brighter suns, and goodlier planets roll
With satellites more glorious-Thou art there.
Or whether on the Ocean's boist'rous back
Thou ride triumphant, and with out-stretch'd

arm

Curb the wild winds and discipline the billows,
The suppliant sailor finds thee there, his chief,
His only help-when thou rebuk'st the storm-
It ceases and the vessel gently glides
Along the glassy level of the calm.

Oh! cou'd I search the bosom of the sea, Down the great depth desceuding; there thy works

Wou'd also speak thy residence; and there
Wou'd I thy servant, like thy still profound,
Astonish'd into silence muse thy praise!
Behold! behold! th' unplanted garden round
Of vegetable coral, sea-flow'rs gay,
And shrubs, with amber, from the pearl-pav'd
bottom

Rise richly varied, where the finny race
In blithe security their gambols play:
While high above their heads Leviathan
The terrour and the glory of the main
His pastime takes with transport, proud to see
The ocean's vast dominion all his own.

Hence thro' the genial bowels of the Earth Easy may fancy pass; till at thy mines, Gani, or Raolconda, she arrive, And from the adamant's imperial blaze Form weak ideas of her maker's glory. Next to Pegu or Ceylon let me rove, Where the rich ruby (deem'd by sages old Of sovereign virtue) sparkles ev'n like Sirius And blushes into flames. Thence will I go To undermine the treasure-fertile womb Of the huge Pyrenean, to detect The agate and the deep-intrench'd gem

Of kindred jasper-Nature in them both
Delights to play the mimic on herself;
And in their veins she oft pourtrays the forms
Of leaning hills, of trees erect, and streams
Now stealing softly on, now thund'ring down
In desperate cascade, with flow'rs and beasts
And all the living landscape of the vale.
In vain thy pencil, Claudio, or Poussin,
Or thine, immortal Guido, wou'd essay
Such skill to imitate-it is the hand

Of God himself—for God himself is there.
Hence with th' ascending springs let me ad-

vance,

Thro' beds of magnets, minerals and spar,
Up to the mountain's summit, there t'indulge
Th' ambition of the comprehensive eye,
That dares to call th' horizon all her own.
Behold the forest, and th' expansive verdure
Of yonder level lawn, whose smooth-shorn sod
No object interrupts, unless the oak

His lordly head uprears, and branching arms
Extends-behold in regal solitude,
And pastoral magnificence he stands
So simple! and so great! the under-wood
Of meaner rank an awful distance keep.
Yet thou art there, yet God himself is there
Ev'n on the bush (tho' not as when to Moses
He shone in burning majesty reveal'd)
Nathless conspicuous in the linnet's throat
Is his unbounded goodness-Thee her Maker,
Thee her Preserver chants she in her song;
While the all emulative vocal tribe
The grateful lesson learn-no other voice
Is heard, no other sound-for in attention
Buried, ev'n babbling Echo holds her peace.
Now from the plains, where th' unbounded
prospect

Gives liberty her utmost scope to range,
Turn we to yon enclosures, where appears
Chequer'd variety in all her forms,
Which the vague mind attract and still suspend
With sweet perplexity. What are yon tow'rs
The work of lab'ring man and clumsy art
Seen with the ring-dove's nest-on that tall beech
Her pensile house the feather'd artist builds-
The rocking winds molest her not; for see,
With such due poise the wond'rous fabric's hung,
That, like the compass in the bark, it keeps
True to itself and stedfast ev'n in storms.
Thou ideot, that assertst there is no God,
View and be dumb forever-

Go bid Vitruvious or Palladio build

The bee his mansion, or the ant her cave-
Go call Correggio, or let Titian come [cherry
To paint the hawthorn's bloom, or teach the
To blush with just vermilion-hence away-
Hence ye prophane! for God himself is here.
Vain were th' attempt, and impious to trace
Thro' all his works th' Artificer divine-
And tho' nor shining sun, nor twinkling star
Bedeck'd the crimson curtains of the sky;
Tho' neither vegetable, beast, nor bird
Were extant on the surface of this ball,
Nor lurking gem beneath; tho' the great sea
Slept in profound stagnation, and the air
Had left no thunder to pronounce its maker;
Yet man at home, within himself, might find
The Deity immense, and in that frame
So fearfully, so wonderfully made,

By sudden sickness, at his master's feet
Begs not that aid his services might claim,
But is his own physician, knows the case,
And from th' emetic herbage works his cure.
Hark, from afar the feather'd matron' screams,
And all her brood alarms, the docile crew
Accept the signal one and all, expert
In th' art of nature and unlearn'd deceit :
Along the sod, in counterfeited death,
Mute, motionless they lie; full well appriz'd,
That the rapacious adversary's near.

But who inform'd her of the approaching danger,
Who taught the cautious mother that the hawk
Was hatcht her foe, and liv'd by her destruction?
Her own prophetic soul is active in her,
And more than human providence her guard.
When Philomela, e'er the cold domain
Of crippled winter 'gins t' advance, prepares
Her annual flight, and in some poplar shade
Takes her melodious leave, who then's her pilot?
Who points her passage thro' the pathless void
To realms from us remote, to us unknown?
Her science is the science of her God.
Not the magnetic index to the north
E'er ascertains her course, nor buoy, nor beacon,
She Heav'n-taught voyager, that sails in air,
Courts nor coy west nor east, but iustant knows
What Newton, or not sought, or sought in
vain2.

Illustrious name, irrefragable proof Of man's vast genius, and the soaring soul! Yet what wert thou to him, who knew his works, Before creation form'd them, long before He measur'd in the hollow of his hand Th' exulting ocean, and the highest Heav'ns He comprehended with a span, and weigh'd The mighty mountains in his golden scales: Who shone supreme, who was himself the light, Ere yet Refraction learn'd her skill to paint, And bend athwart the clouds her beauteous bow. When Knowledge at her father's dread command Resign'd to Israel's king her golden key, Oh to have join'd the frequent auditors In wonder and delight, that whilom heard Great Solomon descanting on the brutes! Oh how sublimely glorious to apply To God's own honour, and good will to man, That wisdom he alone of men possess'd In plenitude so rich, and scope so rare! How did he rouse the pamper'd silken sons Of bloated ease, by placing to their view The sage industrious ant, the wisest insect, And best economist of all the field! Tho' she presumes not by the solar orb To measure time and seasons, nor consults Chaldean calculations, for a guide; Yet conscious that December's on the march Pointing with icy hand to want and woe, She waits his dire approach, and undismay'd Receives him as a welcome guest, prepar'd Against the churlish winter's fiercest blow. For when, as yet the favourable Sun Gives to the genial earth th' enlivening ray, Not the poor suffering slave, that hourly toils

The hen turkey. 2 The longitude.

To rive the groaning earth for ill-sought gold,
Endures such trouble, such fatigue, as she;
While all her subterraneous avenues,

And storm-proof cells, with management most

meet

And unexampled housewifry, she forms,
Then to the field she hies, and on her back,
Burden immense ! sbe bears the cumbrous corn.
Then many a weary step, and many a strain,
And many a grievous groan subdued, at length
Up the huge hill she hardly heaves it home:
Nor rests she here her providence, but nips
With subtle tooth the grain, lest from her garner
In mischievous fertility it steal,
And back to day-light vegetate its way.
Go to the aut, thou sluggard, learn to live,
And by her wary ways reform thine own.
But, if thy deaden'd sense, and listless thought
More glaring evidence demand; behold,
Where yon pellucid populous hive presents
A yet uncopied model to the world!
There Machiavel in the reflecting glass
May read himself a fool. The chymist there
May with astonishment invidious view
His toils outdone by each plebeian bee,
Who, at the royal mandate, on the wing
From various herbs, and from discordant flow'rs
A perfect harmony of sweets compounds.

Avaunt Conceit, Ambition take thy flight
Back to the prince of vanity and air!
Oh! tis a thought of energy most piercing,
Form'd to make pride grow humble; form'd to

force

Its weight on the reluctant mind, and give her
A true but irksome image of herself.
Woful vicissitude! when man, fall'n man,
Who first from Heav'n, from gracious God him-
self,
[brutes
Learn'd knowledge of the brutes, must know by
Instructed and reproach'd, the scale of being;
By slow degrees from lowly steps ascend,
And trace Omniscience upwards to its spring!
Yet murmur not, but praise-for tho' we stand
Of many a Godlike privilege amerc'd
By Adam's dire transgression, tho' no more
Is Paradise our home, but o'er the portal
Hangs in terrific pomp the burning blade;
Still with ten thousand beauties blooms the
Earth,

With pleasures populous, and with riches crown'd.
Still is there scope for wonder and for love
Ev'n to their last exertion-show'rs of blessings
Far more than human virtue can deserve,
Or hope expect, or gratitude return.
Then, O ye people, O ye sons of men,
Whatever be the colour of your lives,
Whatever portion of itself his wisdom
Shall deign t' allow, still patiently abide,
And praise him more and more; nor cease to
chant

All glory to the Cmniscient, and praise,
And pow'r, and domination in the height!
Aud thou, cherubic Gratitude, whose voice
To pious ears sounds silverly so sweet.
Come with thy precious incense, bring thy gifts,
And with the choicest stores the altar crown.

ΤΩ ΘΕΩ ΔΟΞΑ.