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Ten thousand worlds, ten thousand ways devout, O be a man ! and thou shalt be a God!
And half self-made !-- Ambition how divine!
O thou, ambitious of disgrace alone! Opening the solemn sources of my soul,
Still undevout? Unkindled !--Though high-taught, Since I have pour’d, like feign'd Eridanus, School'd by the skies, and pupil of the stars ; My flowing numbers o'er the faming skies, Rank coward to the fashionable world! Nor see, of fancy, or of fact, what more
Art thou asham'd to bend thy knee to Heaven? Invites the Muse. Here turn we, and review Curst fume of pride, exhal'd from deepest Hell? Our past nocturnal landscape wide :-Then say, Pride in religion is man's highe:t praise. Say, then, Lorenzo! with what burst of heart, Bent on destruction! and in love with death! The whole, at once, revolving in his thought, Not all these luminaries, quench'd at once, Must man exclainn, adoring, and aghast ?
Were half so sad, as one benighted mind, “ () what a root! O what a branch, is here! Which gropes for happiness, and meets despair. O what a father! What a family!
How, like a widow in her weeds, the night,
How sorrowful, how desolate, she weeps Great vine!! On thee, on thee the cluster bangs; Perpetual dews, and saddens Nature's scene! The filial cluster! infinitely spread
A scene more sad sin makes the darken'd soul, lo glowing globes, with various being fraught ; All comfort kills, nor leaves one spark alive. And drinks (nectareous draught !) immortal life. Though blind of heart, still open is thine eye: Or, shall I say (for who can say enough?)
Why such inagnificence in all thou seest? A constellation of ten thousand gems,
Of matter's grandeur, know, une ead is this, (And, O! of wbat dimension of what weight!) To tell the rational, who gazes on it Set in one signet, flames on the right hand
Though that immensely grea', still greater ke, Of Majesty Divine! The blazing seal,
Whose breast, capacious, can embrace, and lodge, That deeply stamps, on all created mind,
Unburthen'd, Nature's universal scheme; Indelible, his sovereign attributes,
Can grasp creation with a single thought; Omnipotence, and love! That, passing bound : Creation grasp ; and not exclude its Sire”And this, surpassing that. Nor stop we here, To tell him farther" It behoves him much For want of power in God, but thought in man. To guard th' important, yet depending, fate E'en this acknowledg'd, leaves us still in debt : Of being, brighter than a thousand suns : If greater aught, that greater all is thine,
One single ray of thought outshines the all." Dread Sire!-- Accept this miniature of thee; And if man hears obedient, soou he'll soar And pardon an attempt from mortal tho'ght, Superior heights, and on bis purple wing, In which archangels might have fail'd, unblamn'd." His purple wing bedropt with eyes of gold, How such ideas of th’ Almighty's power,
Rising, where thought is now denied to rise, And such ideas of th' Almighty's plan,
Look down iriumphant on these dazzling spheres. (Ideas not absurd) distend the thought
Why then persist?-No mortal ever livie Of feeble mortals! Nor of them alone!
But, dying, he pronounc'd (when words are true) The fulness of the Deity breaks forth
The whole that charms thee, absolutely vain; In inconceivables to men, and gods.
Vain, and far worse!-Think thou, with dying men; Think, then, I think ; nor ever drop the thoughts O condescend to think as angels think! How low must man descend, when gods adore ! O tolerate a chance for happiness! Have I not, ther:, accomplish'd my proud boast? Our nature such, ill choiee ensures ill fate; Did I not tell thee, “We would mount, Lorenzo '7, And Hell had been, thoagh there had been no God. And kindle our devotion at the stars »»
Dost thou not know, my new astronomer! And have I faild? And did I fatter thee? Earth, turning from the Sun, brings night to man? And art all adamant? And dost confute
Man, turning from his God, brings endless nigbt; All urg'd, with one irrefragable smile ?
Where thou canst read no morals, tind no friend, Lorenzo! mirth how miserable here!
Amend no manners, and expect no peace. Swear by the stars, by bim who made them, swear, How deep the darkness ! and the groan, how loud! 'Thy heart, henceforth, shall be as pure as they : And far, how far, from lambent are the fames! Then thou, like them, shalt shine; like them, shalt Such is Lorenzo's purchase! sach his praise ! rise
The proud, the politic, Lorenzo's praise ! From low to lofty; from obscure to bright; Though in bis ear, and level'd at his heart, By due gradation, Nature's sacred law.
P've half read o'er the volume of the skies. The stars, from whence:Ak Chaoghe can tell. For think not thou hast heard all this from me; These bright temptations to idolatry,
My song but echoes what great Nature speaks. From darkness, and confusion, took their birth; What has she spoken? Thus the goddess spoke, Sons of deformity! from fluid dregs
Thus speaks for ever:--" Place, at Nature's head, Tartarean, first they rose to masses rude;
A sovereign, which o'er all things rolls bis eye, And then, to spheres opaque; then dimly shone; Extends his wing, promulgates his commands, Then brighten'd; then blaz'd out in perfect day. But, above all, diffuses endless good; Nature delights in progress; in advance
To whom, for sure redress, the wrong d may Ay; From worse to better; but, when minds ascend, The vile, for mercy; and the pain’d, for peace; Progress, in part, depends upon themselves. By whom, the various tenants of these spheres, Heaven aids exertion; greater makes the great;
Diversified in fortunes, place, and powers, The voluntary little lessens more.
Rais'd in enjoyment, as in worth they rise,
Arrive at length (if worthy such approach)
At that blest fountain-head, from which they stream;
Where conflict past redoubles present joy; Sacred to thoughts immaculate, and pare!
Perhaps, too, aid thee, when rever'd awhile,
Sad presage to vain boasters, now in bloom! Say, then, Lorenzo! (for thou know'st it well) By the long list of swift mortality, What's vice - Mere want of compass in our thought. From Adam downward to this erening knell, Religion, what ?- The proof of common-sense. Which midnight waves in fancy's startled eye; How art thou honted, where the least prevails ! And shocks her witb an hundred centuries, Is it my fault, if these truths call thee fool? Round Death's black banner throng'd, in human And thou shalt never be miscall'd by me.
thought! Can neither shame, nor terrour, stand thy friend? By thousands, now, wesigning their last breath, And art thou still an insect in the mire?
And calling ther--wert tbou so wise to hear ! How, like thy guardian angel, have I flown; By tombs o'er tombs arising; human earth Snatch'd thee from Earth; escorted thee through all Ejected, to make room for-human earth; Th'ethereal armies; walk'd thee, like a god, The monarch's tertour ! and the sexton's trade! Through splendours of first magnitude, arrang'd By pompous obsequies that shun the day, On either hand; clouds thrown beneath thy feet; The torch funereal, and the nodding plume, Close-cruis'd on the bright Paradise of God; Which makes poor man's humiliation proud ; And almost introduc'd thee to the throne !
Buast of our ruin! triumph of our dust ! And art thou still carousing, for delight,
By the damp vault that weeps o'er royal bones; Rank poison ; first ferınenting to mere froth, And the pale lamp that shows the ghastly dead, And then subsiding into final gall ?
More ghastly, through the thick incumbent glooin! To beings of sublime, immortal make,
By visits (if there are) from darker scenes, How shocking is all joy, whose end is sure! The gliding spectre ! and the groaning grare ! Such joy, more shocking still, the more it charms! By groans, and graves, and miseries that groan And dost thou choose what ends ere well-begun; For the grave's shelter! By desponding men, And infamous, as short? And dost thou choose Senseless to pains of death, from pangs of guilt! (Thou, to whose palate glory is so sweet)
By guilt's last audit! By yon Moon in blood, To wade into perdition, through contempt,
The rocking firmament, the falling stars, Not of poor bigots only, but thy own
And thunder's last discharge, great Nature's knell! For I have peep'd into thy cover'd heart,
By second chaos and eternal night"And seen it blush beneath a boastful brow; Be wise-Nor let Philander blame my charm ; For, by strong guilt's most violent assault, But own not ill discharg'd my double debt, Conscience is but disabled, not destroy'd.
Love to the living; duty to the dead ! Oibou most aweful being; and most vain ! For know I'm but executor; he left 'Thy will, how frail! how glorious is thy power! This moral legacy; I make it o'er Though dread eternity has sown her seeds
By his command; Philander hear in me; Of bliss, and woe, in thy despotic breast ;
And Heaven in both.-If deaf to these, O! hear Though Heaven and Hell depend upon thy choice; Florello's tender voice; his weal depends A butterfly comes cross, and both are fed.
On thy resolve; it trembles at thy choice ; Is this the picture of a rational ?
For his sake-love thyself: example strikes This horrid image, shall it be most just ?
All human hearts; a bad example more; Lorenzo! No: it cannot, --shall not, be,
More still a father's; that ensures his ruin.
As parent of his being, wouldst thou prove
And make him curse the being which thou gavest?
Florello's father, and Philander's friend ! My solemn night-born adjuration hear;
Florello's father ruin'd, ruins him; Hear, and I'll raise thy spirit from the dust; And from Philander's friend the world expects While the stars gaze on this enchantment new, A conduct, no dishonour to the dead. Enchantment, not infernal, but divine !
Let passion do, what nobler motive should ; “ By silence, Death's peculiar attribute ; Let love, and emulation, rise in aid By darkness, guilt's inevitable doom;
To reason ; and persuade thee to be blest. By darkness, and by silence, sisters dread!
This seems not a request to be denied ; Tbat draw the curtain round Night's ebon throne, Yet (such the infatuation of mankind !) And raise ideas, solemn as the scene!
'Tis the most hopeless, man can make to man. By Night, and all of aweful, Night presents Shall I then rise, in argument, and warmth? To thought or sense (of aweful much, to both, And urge Philander's posthumous advice, The goddess brings)! By these her trembling fires, From topics yet unbroach'd ?Likc l'esta's, ever-burning; and, like hers, But Oh! I faint! My spirits fail !-Nor strange! So long on wing, and in no middle clime !
The darker matter organiz'd (the ware
Of next approach to godhead. Father fond (Wont to return with our returning peace) (Far fonder than e'er bure that name on Earth) Will pay, ere long, and bless me with repose. Of intellectual beings! beings blest Hastē, baste, sweet stranger ! from the peasant's with powers to please thee; not of passive ply cot,
To laws they know not; beings lodg'd in seats The ship-boy's hammoc, or the soldier's straw, Of well-adapted joys, in different domes Whence sorrow never chas'd thee; with thee bring, of this imperial palace for thy sons; Not hideous visions, as of late; but draughts Of this proud, populous, well-policy'd, Delicious of well-tasted, cordial, rest;
Though boundless habitation, plann'dby thee: Man's rich restorative ; his balmy bath,
Whose several clans their several climates suit; That supples, lubricates, and keeps in play And transposition, doubtless, would destroy. The various movements of this nice machine, Or, Oh! indulge, inimortal King, indulge Which asks such frequent periods of repair. A title less august indeed, but more When tir'd with vain rotations of the day,
Endearing; ah! how sweet in human ears, Sleep winds us up for the succeeding dawn; Sweet in our ears, and triumph in our hearts! Fresh we spin on, till sickness clogs our wheels, Father of immorlality to man! Or Death quite breaks the spring, and motion ends. A theme that latelyis set my soul on fire When will it end with me)
And thou the next ! yet equal! thou, by whom
.“ THOU only know'st, That blessing was convey'd; far more! was bought; Thou, whose broad eye the future, and the past, Ineffable the price! by whom all worlds Joins to the present; making one of three
Were made, and one redeem'd! illustrious light To moral thought! Thou know'st, and thou alone, From light illustrious! Thou, whose regal power, All-knowing !-all-unknown!and yet well-known! Finite in time, but infinite in space, Near, though remote! and, though unfathom’d, On more than adamantine basis fix'd, felt !
O'er more, far more, than diadems and thrones, And, though invisible, for ever seen!
Inviolably reigns; the dread of gods! And seen in all! the great and the minute : And Oh! the friend of man! beneath whose foot, Each globe above, with its gigantic race,
And by the mandate of whose awful nod, Each flower, each leaf, with its small people swarm’d, All regions, revolution, fortunes, fates, (Those puny vouchers of Omnipotence !)
Of high, of low, of mind, and matter, roll To the first thought, that asks, * From whence ?" Through the short channels of expiring time, declare
Or shoreless ocean of eternity, Their common source. Thou fountain, running o'er Calm, or tempestuous (as thy spirit breathes), In rivers of communicated joy!
In absolute subjection !-And, O thou Who gav'st us speech for far, far bumbler themes! The glorious third ! distinct, not separate! Say, by what name shall I presume to call
Beaming from both! with both incorporate; Ilim I see burning in these countless suns,
And (strange to tell!) incorporate with dust! As Moses, in the bush? Illustrious Mind!
By condescension, as thy glory, great, The whole creation, less, far less, to thee,
Enshriu'd in man! of human hearts, if pure, Than that to the creation's ample round.
Divine inbabitant! the tie divine How shall I name thee? How my. labouring soul Of Heaven with distant Earth! by whom I trust, Heaves underneath the thought, too big for birth! (If not inspir'd) uncensur'd this address
“Great system of perfections! mighty cause To thee, to them to whom !-Mysterious power! Of causes mighty! cause uneaus'd! sole root Reveal'd—yet unreveal'd! darkness in light; Of Nature, that luxuriant growth of God! Number in unity! our joy! our dread! First Father of effects ! that progeny
The triple bolt that lays all wrong in ruin! Of endless series; where the golden chạia's Tbat animates all right, the triple sun! Last link admits a period, who can tell ?
Sun of the soul ! her never-setting sun! Father of all that is or heard, or hears!
Triune, unutterable, unconceiv'd, Father of all that is or seen, or sees!
Absconding, yet demonstrable, great God! Father of all that is, or shall arise!
Greater than greatest! Better than the best! Father of this immeasurable mass
Kinder than kindest! with soft pity's eye, Of maiter multiform; or dense, or rare;
Or (stronger still to speak it) with thine own, Opaque, or lucid; rapid, or at rest ;
From thy bright home, from that high firmament, Minute, or passing bound ! in each extreme Where thou, from all eternity, hast duelt; Of like amaze, and mystery, to man.
Beyond archangels' unassisted ken; Father of these bright millions of the night ! From far above what mortals highest call; Of which the least full godhead had proclaim'd, From elevation's pinnacle; look down, And thrown the gazer on his knee-Or, say, Through What? confounding interval ! through Is appellation higher still, thy choice? Father of matter's temporary lord !
And more than labouring fancy can conceive; Father of spirits! nobler offspring ! sparks Through radiant ranks of essences unknown; Of high paternal glory; rich endow'd
Through hierarchies from hierarchies detach'd With various measures, and with various modes Round various banners of omnipotence, Of instinct, reason, intuition ; beams More pale, or bright from day divine, to break
18 Nights the Sixth and Seventh.
Wich endless change of rapturous duties tird; Though plung'd, before, in horrours dark as Through wondrous beings interposing swarms,
might : All clustering at the call, to dwell in thee; Rich prelibation of consummate joy! Through this wide waste of worlds ! this visia vast, Nor wait we dissolution to be blest. All sanded o'er with sups; suns turn'd to night This final effort of the moral Muse, Before thy feeblest beam-Look down-down- How justly titled 20 % nor, for me alone: down
For all that read; what spirit of support, On a poor breathing particle in dust,
What heights of Consolation, crown my song ! Or, lower, an immortal in his crimes.
Then, farewel Night! of darkness, now, DO His crimes forgive! forgive his virtues, ton!
more : Those smaller faults, half-converts to the right. Joy breaks ; shines; triumphs; 't is eternal day. Nor let ine close these eyes, wbich never more Shall that which rises out of nought complain May see the Sun (though night's descending scale Of a few evils, paid with endless joys ? Now weighs up morn), unpity'd, and upblest ! My soul! henceforth, in sweetest union join In thy displeasure dwells eternal pain ;
The two supports of human bappiness, Pain, our aversion; pain, which strikes me now; Which some, erroneous, think can never meet; And, since all pain is terrible to man,
True taste of life, and constant thought of death! Though transient, terrible ; at thu good hour, The thought of death, sole victor of its dread! Gently, ah gently, lay me in my bed,
Hope, be thy joy; and probity thy shill; My clay-cold lied ! by nature now, so near; Thy patron he, whose diadem has droppd By nature, near; still nearer by d sease!
Yon gems of Heaven; elernity, thy prize : Till then, be this, an einblem of my grave:
And leave the racers of the world their own, Let it out-preach the preacher; every night Their feather, and their froth, for endless toils : Let it out-cry the boy at Philip's ear;
They part with all for that which is not bread; That tongue of death! that hcrald of the tomb ! They mortify, they starve, on wealth, fame, And when (the shelter of thy wing implur'd)
power ; My senses, sooth'd, shall sink in soft repose, And laugh to scorn the fools that aim at more. O sink this truth still deeper in my soul,
How must a spirit, late escap'd from Earth, Suggested by my pillow, sign'd by fate.
Suppose Philander's, Lucia's, or Narcissa's, First, in fate's volume, at the page of man- The truth of things new-blazing in its eye, Man's sickly soul, though turn'd and toss'd for Look back, astonish'd, on the ways of men, erer,
Wbuse lives' whole drift is to forget their graves ! From side to side, can rest on nought but thee: And when our present privilege is past, Here, in full trust; hereafter, in full joy;
To scourge us with due sense of its abuse, On thee, the promisd, sure, eternal down
The same astonishment will seize us all. Of spirits, toil'd in travel through this vale. What then must pain us, would preserve us now. Nor of that pillow shall my soul despond;
Lorenzo! 't is not yet too late; Lorenzo! For—Lore alınighty! Love almighty! (sing, Seize wisdom. ere 't is torment to be wise; Exult creation!) Love alınighty, reigns !
That is, seize wisdom, ere she seizes thee. That death of death! that cordial of despair ! For what, my small philosopber! is Hell? And loud eternity's triumphant song!
"T is nothing but full knowledge of the truth, “Of whom, no more :--For, o thou Patron- When truth, resisted long, is sworn our foe: Cod!
And calls eternity to do her right.
My song the midnight raven has outwing'd,
And shot, ambitious of unbounded scenes, The Heaven of Heavens, to kiss the distant Beyond the flaming limits of the world, Farth!
Her gloomy flight. But what avails the flight Breathes out in agonies a sinless soul!
Of fancy, when our hearts remain below? Against the cross, Death's iron sceptre breaks ! Virtue abounds in Hatteries and foes ; From famish'd ruin plucks her huinan prey! 'T is pride to praise her; penance to perform. Throws wide the gates celestial to his foes !
To more than words, to more than worth of Their gratitude, for such a boundless debt,
tongue, Deputes their suffering brothers to receive! Lorenzo! rise, at this auspicious hour; And, if deep human guilt in payınent fails ; An hour, when Heaven 's most intimate with man; As deeper guilt prohibits our despair!
When, like a falling star, the ray divine Enjoins it, as our duty, to rejoice!
Glides swift into the bosom of the just; And (to close all) omnipotently kind,
And just are all, determin'd to reclaim; Takes his delights among the sons of men 19." Which sets that title high within thy reach. What words are these-And did they come from Awake, then: thy Philander calls : awake! Heaven?
Thou, who shalt wake, when the creation sleeps; And were they spoke to man? to guilty man? When, like a taper, all these suns expire; What are all mysteries to love like this?
When Time, like him of Gaza in his wrath, The songs of angels, all the melodies
Plucking the pillars that support the world, Of choral gods, are wafted in the sound;
In Nature's ample ruins lies intomb'd ; Heal and exhilarate the broken heart;
And midnight, universal midnight! reigns. 19 Prov. chap. viij,
20 The Consolation
And with them dy'd my joys; the grave
Has broken Nature's laws;
And clos'd, against this feeble frame,
Its partial cruel jaws;
dcloud impairs my sight;
Psalm Ixiii. 6.
My weak hand disobeys my will,
And trembles as I write.
What shall I write? Thalia, tell;
Say, long-abandovid Muse! This was not intended for the public, there were What field of fancy shall I range? many and strong reasons against it; and are so still;
What subject shall I chvose? but some extracts of it, fron the few copies which were given away, being got into the printed papers,
A choice of moment high inspire,
And rescue me from shame, it was thought necessary to publish something, Jest a copy still more imperfect than this should
Por doting on thy charms so late, fall into the press : and it is hoped, that this un
By grandeur in my theme. welcome occasion of publication may be some ex- Beyond the themes, which most admire, cuse for it.
Which dazzle, or amaze, As for the following stanzas, God Almighty's in- Beyond renown'd exploits of war, finite power, and marvellous goodness to man, is Bright charms, or empire's blaze, dwelt on, as the most just and cogent reason for
Are themes, which, in a world of woe, our cheerful and absolute resignation to his will;
Can best appease our pain; nor are any of those topics declined, which have a
And, in an age of gaudy guilt, just tendency to promote that supreme virtue:
Gay folly's flood restrain ; such as the vanity of this life, the value of the next, the approach of death, &c.
Amidst the storms of life support
A calm uvshaken mind;
And with unfading laurels crown
The brow of the resign’d.
O Resignation ! yet unsung, Of man's too rapid race!
Untouch'd by former strains ; Each leaving, as it swiftly fies,
Though claiming every Muse's smile, A shorter in its place.
And every poet's pains, They who the longest lease enjoy,
Beneath life's evening, solemn shade, Have told us with a sigh,
I dedicate my page That to be born seems little more,
To thee, thou safest guard of youth! Than to begin to die.
Thou sole support of age ! Numbers there are who feel this truth
All other duties crescents are With fears alarm'd; and yet,
Of virtue faintly bright, In life's delusions lull'd asleep,
The glorious consummation, thon! This weighty truth forget :
Which fills her orb with light: And am not I to these akin?
How rarely fill'd! the love divine Age slumbers o'er the quill;
In evils to discern, Its honour blots, whate'er it writes,
This the first lesson which we want, And am I writing still?
The latest, which we learn; Conscious of nature in decline,
A melancholy 'ruth! for know, And languor ju my thougbts;
Could our proud hearts resign, To soften censure, and abate
The distance greatly would decrease Its rigour on my faults ;
"Twixt human and divine, Permit me, madam! ere to you
But though full noble is my theme, The promis’d verse I pay,
Full urgent is my call To touch on felt infirmity,
To soften sorrow, and forbid Sad sister of decay.
The burs' ing tear to fall : One world deceas'd, another born,
The task I dread; dare I to leave
Of humble prose the shore,
What throngs have sunk before !
How proud the poet's billow swells ! His second world to see :
The God! the God! his boast : My second world, though gay the scene,
A boast how vain! What wrecks abound ! Can boast no charms for me.
Dead bards stench every coast. To me this brilliant age appears
What then am I? Shall I presume, With desolation spread ;
On such a moulten wing, Near all with whom I liv'd, and smil'd,
Above the general wreck to rise, Whilst life was life, are dead;
And in my winter, sing i