I'm not design'd to say who lies beneath;
Which known how useless to the dead and thee!
Whoe'er thou art, or rich, or wise, or strong,
If thy proud heart is unsubdu'd by grace,
Thou hast within thy soul's unwearied foe-
Thy condemnation to infernal shades!
Life is uncertain-at the longest short! Lo, the grave yawns-eternity's in view!
Say, wretched sinner! how wilt thou escape?
But one resource remains-To JESUS fly
With eyes full streaming, and a broken heart:
Thy stains his blood shall purge-his spirit guide
Thy feet into the way of perfect peace.
Thus ready for that dreaded, wish'd-for hour,
Thro' Death's cold shades thy soul shall fearless pass
To some bless'd region, till the awful trump
Proclaims the dawn of that eternal day,
In which with JESUS thou shalt ever reign.
VIRTUOUS AND THE WICKED
RESERVED FOR ANOTHER STATE.
Look round the world! with what a partial hand
The scale of bliss and mis'ry is sustain❜d!
Beneath the shade of cold obscurity
Pale Virtue lies; no arm supports her head,
No friendly voice speaks comfort to her soul,
Nor soft-ey'd Pity drops a melting tear;
But in their stead, Contempt and rude Disdain
Insult the banish'd wand'rer. On she goes
Neglected and forlorn: Disease, and Cold,
And Famine, worst of ills, her steps attend
Yet patient, and to Heaven's just will resign'd,
She ne'er is seen to weep, or heard to sigh.
Now turn your eyes to yon sweet-smelling bow'r, Where, flush'd with all the insolence of wealth, Sits pamper'd Vice! for him th' Arabian gale Breathes forth delicious odours; Gallia's hills For him pour nectar from the purple vine; Nor think for these he pays the tribute due
To Heaven: of Heaven he never names the name,
Save when, with imprecations dark and dire,
He points his jest obscene. Yet buxom Health
Sits on his rosy cheek; yet Honour gilds
His high exploits, and downy-pinion'd Sleep
Sheds a soft opiate o'er his peaceful couch.
Seest thou this, righteous Father! seest thou this,
And wilt thou ne'er repay? Shall good and ill
Be carry'd undistinguish'd to the land
Where all things are forgot? Ah! no; the day
Will come when Virtue from the cloud shall burst
That long obscur'd her beams; when Sin shall fly
Back to her native hell; there sink eclips'd
In penal darkness; where nor star shall rise,
Nor ever sunshine pierce th' impervious gloom.
SCEPTIC! Whoe'er thou art, who say'st the soul, That particle divine, which God's own breath Inspir'd into the mortal mass, shall rest
Annihilate, till duration has unroll'd
Her never-ending line: tell, if thou know'st,
Why ev'ry nation, ev'ry clime, though all
In laws, in rites, in manners disagree,
With one consent expect another world,
Where wickedness shall weep? Why Painim bards
Fabled Elysian plains, Tartarean lakes,
Styx and Cocytus? Tell why Hali's sons
Have feign'd a paradise of mirth and love,
Banquets and blooming nymphs? Or rather, tell,
Why on the brink of Orellana's stream,
Where never science rear'd her sacred torch,
Th' untutor❜d Indian dreams of happier worlds
Behind the cloud-topt hill? Why in each breast
Is plac'd a friendly monitor, that prompts,
Informs, directs, encourages, forbids?
Tell why on unknown evil grief attends;
Or joy on secret good? Why conscience acts
With tenfold force, when sickness, age, or pain,
Stands tottering on the precipice of death?
Or why such horror gnaws the guilty soul
Of dying sinners; while the good man sleeps
Peaceful and calm, and with a smile expires?
GOD DECLARES THE DREADFUL CONSEQUENCE OF ADAM'S SIN,
TO HIM AND HIS POSTERITY,
UNLESS SATISFACTION IS MADE TO HIS JUSTICE,
WHICH THE SON OF GOD UNDERTAKES.
Disloyal breaks his fealty, and sins
Against the high supremacy of Heaven.
Affecting Godhead, and so losing all,
To expiate his treason hath nought left,
But to destruction sacred and devote.
He, with his whole posterity, must die;
Die he or Justice must; unless for him
Some other able, and as willing, pay
The rigid satisfaction, death for death.
Say, heavenly Pow'rs, where shall we find such love?
Which of ye will be mortal to redeem
Man's mortal crime, the just, th' unjust to save? Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear?
He ask'd, but all the heav'nly choir stood mute, And silence was in Heaven: on man's behalf
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