Inward a glowing heat I feel,

A fpark of heavenly day;

But earthly vapours damp my zeal,

And heavy flesh drags me the downward way.
Faint are the efforts of my will,

And mortal paffion charms my foul aftray.
Shine, thou fweet hour of dear release,
Shine, from the sky,

And call me high

To mingle with the choirs of glory and of blifs.
Devotion there begins the flight,

Awakes the fong, and guides the way;

There love and zeal divine and bright

Trace out new regions in the world of light,

And scarce the boldest Muse can follow or obey.

I'm in a dream, and Fancy reigns,
She spreads her gay delufive fcenes ;

Or is the vifion true?

Behold Religion on her throne,

In awful state descending down.

[view.

And her dominions vaft and bright within my spacious She fmiles, and with a courteous hand

She beckons me away;

I feel mine airy powers loofe from the cumbrous clay,

And with a joyful hafte obey

Religion's high command.

What lengths and heights and depths unknown !
Broad fields with blooming glory fown,

And feas, and fkies, and ftars her own,

In an unmeafur'd sphere!

What heavens of joy, and light ferene,
Which nor the rolling fun has feen,
Where nor the roving Mufe has been
That greater traveller !

A long farewell to all below,
Farewell to all that fenfe can show,
To golden scenes, and flowery fields,
To all the worlds that fancy builds,
And all that Poets know.

Now the fwift tranfports of the mind

Leave the fluttering Muse behind,

[wind.

A thousand loofe Pindaric plumes fly fcattering down the

Amongst the clouds I lose my breath,

The rapture grows too strong:
The feeble powers that nature gave
Faint and drop downward to the grave;
Receive their fall, thou treafurer of death;

I will no more demand my tongue,

Till the grofs organ well refin'd

Can trace the boundless flights of an unfetter'd mind, And raife an equal fong.

The

The following Poems of this Book are peculiarly dedicated to Divine Love*.

The Hazard of loving the Creatures.
HERE-E'ER my flattering paffions rove,
I find a lurking fnare;

WH

'Tis dangerous to let loose our love

Beneath th' Eternal Fair.

Souls whom the tie of friendship binds,

And partners of our blood,

Seize a large portion of our minds,

And leave the lefs for God.

Nature has foft but powerful bands,

And reafon fhe controls;

While children with their little hands

Hang clofeft to our fouls.

Thoughtless they act th' old ferpent's part;

What tempting things they be!

Lord, how they twine about our heart,

And draw it off from thee !

Our hafty wills ruh blindly on

Where rifing paffion rolls,

And thus we make our fetters ftrong

To bind our flavifh fouls.

* Different ages have their different airs and fafhions of writing. It was much more the fashion of the age, when thefe poems were written, to treat of divine fubjects in the ftyle of Solomon's Song than it is at this day, which will afford fome apology for the writer, in younger years.

his

K 2

Dear

Dear Sovereign, break thefe fetters off,

And fet our fpirits free;.

God in himself is blifs enough,
For we have all in Thee.

Defiring to love CHRIST.

COME, let me love: or is thy mind

Harden'd to ftone, or froze to ice?

I fee the bleffed Fair-one bend

And ftoop t' embrace me from the skies!

O'tis a thought would melt a rock,
And make a heart of iron move,

That thofe fweet lips, that heavenly look,
Should feek and with a mortal love!

I was a traitor doom'd to fire,
Bound to fuftain eternal pains;
He flew on wings of strong desire,
Affum'd my guilt, and took my chains.

Infinite grace! Almighty charms!
Stand in amaze, ye whirling fkies!
Jefus the God, with naked arms,
Hangs on a Crofs of Love, and dies.

Did pity ever stoop so low,

Drefs'd in divinity and blood?
Was ever rebel courted fo

Again he lives; and fpreads his hands,
Hands that were nail'd to torturing smart;
By thefe dear wounds, fays he; and stands
And prays to clafp me to his heart.

Sure I must love; or are my ears
Still deaf, nor will my passion move?
Then let me melt this heart to tears;
This heart fhall yield to death or love.

IF

The HEAR T given away.

there are paffions in my foul, (And paffions fure they be) Now they are all at thy control, My Jefus, all for Thee.

If love, that pleafing power, can rest
In hearts fo hard as mine,

Come, gentle Saviour, to my breast,
For all my love is thine.

Let the gay world, with treacherous art
Allure my eyes in vain :

I have convey'd away my heart,
Ne'er to return again.

I feel my warmest paffions dead

To all that earth can boast; This foul of mine was never made

For vanity and dust.