She fung the godlike principle of thought,
And how, from objects by the fenfes brought,
The intellectual imagery is wrought;
How the the modes of beings can discern,
A nice respect, a meer relation learn;
Can all the thin abstracted notions reach,
Which Grecian wits, or, Britain, thine can teach.
Thus has the Mufe Arove to display a part
Of thofe unnumber'd miracles of art,
Of prudence, conduct, and of wife defign,
Which to th' attentive thought confpicuous fhine,
Still, vanquifh'd Atheifts! will you keep the field,
And, hard in error, ftill refuse to yield?
See, all your broken arms lie spread around,
And ignominious rout deforms the ground;
Be wife, and once, admonish'd by a foe,
Where lics your ftrength, and where your weakness, know;
No more at Reafon's folemn bar appear,
Hardy no more fcholaftic weapons bear;
Difband your feeble forces, and decline
The war; no more in tinfel armour shine;
Nor shake your bullruth fpears, but swift repair
To your ftrong place of arms, the fcoffer's chair;
And thence, fupported with a mocking ring,
Sarcaftic darts and keen invectives fling
Against your foes, and scornful at your feafts
Religion vanquish with decifive jefts;
Arm'd with refiftlefs laughter, Heaven affail,
Relinquish Reason, and let Mirth prevail.
Good Heaven! that men, who vaunt difcerning fight,
And arrogant from wildom's diftant height
Look down on vulgar mortals, who revere
A Caufe Supreme, fhould their proud building rear
Without one prop the ponderous pile to bear!
How much the Judge, who does in Heaven prefide
Re-mocks the fcoffer, and contemns his pride!
Behold, the fad unfufferable hour
Advances near, which will his error cure;
When he compell'd shall drink the wrathful bowl,
And ruin'd feel immortal vengeance roll
Through all his veins, and drench his inmost soul.
O'erwhelm'd with horror, funk in deep defpair,
And loft for ever, will the wretch forbear
To curfe his madness, and blafpheme the power
Of his juft Sovereign, which he mock'd before?
Hail, King Supreme! of Power Immenfe Abyss!
Father of Light! Exhaustless Source of Bliss!
Thou uncreated, Self-existent Cause,
Control'd by no fuperior Being's laws,
Ere infant light effay'd to dart the ray,
Smil'd heavenly fweet, and try'd to kindle day :
Ere the wide fields of æther were display'd,
Or filver stars cœrulean spheres inlaid;
Ere yet the eldest child of Time was born,
Or verdant pride young Nature did adorn;
Thou art; and didft eternity employ
In unmolested peace, in plenitude of joy,
In its ideal frame the world, defign'd
From ages past, lay finish'd in thy mind.
Conform to this divine imagin'd plan,
With perfect art th' amazing work began.
Thy glance furvey'd the folitary plains,
Where shapeless fhade inert and filent reigns;
Then in the dark and undiftinguifh'd space,
Unfruitful, uninclos'd, and wild of face,
Thy compass for the world mark'd out the deftin'd
place.
Then didft Thou through the fields of barren Night
Go forth, collected in Creating Might.
Where Thou almighty vigour didft exert,
Which emicant did this and that
Through the black bofom of the empty space:
The gulphs confefs th' omnipotent embrace,
And, pregnant grown with elemental feed,
Unfinish'd orbs and worlds in embryo breed.
From the crude mafs, Omnifcient Architect,
Thou for each part materials didst select,
And with a master-hand thy world erect.
Labour'd by Thee, the globes, vast lucid buoys,
By Thee uplifted, float in liquid fkies:
By Thy cementing word their parts cohere,
And roll by Thy impulfive nod in air.
Thou in the vacant didft the earth fufpend,
Advance the mountains, and the vales extend;
People the plains with flocks, with beasts the wood,
And ftore with fcaly colonies the flood.
Next, Man arofe at Thy Creating Word,
Of Thy terreftial realms vicegerent lord.
His foul, more artful labour, more refin'd,
And emulous of bright Seraphic Mind,
е
Ennobled by Thy Image, fpotlefs fhone,
Prais'd Thee her author, and ador'd Thy throne:
Able to know, admire, enjoy her God,
She did her high felicity applaud.
Since Thou didst all the fpacious worlds difplay, Homage to Thee let all obedient pay.
Let glittering stars, that dance their destin❜d ring
Sublime in sky, with vocal planets fing
Confederate praise to Thee, O Great Creator King!
Let the thin diftricts of the waving air,
Conveyancers of found, Thy fki!l declare.
Let winds, the breathing creatures of the skies,
Call in each vigorous gale, that roving flies
By land or fea; then one loud triumph raise,
And all their blafts employ in fongs of praise.
While painted herald-birds Thy deeds proclaim,
And on their spreading wings convey Thy fame :
Let Eagles, which in Heaven's blue concave foar,
Scornful of earth fuperior feats explore,
And rife with breafts erect against the fun,
Be minifters to bear Thy bright renown,
And carry ardent praifes to Thy throne.
Ye fish, affume a voice; with praises fill
The hollow rock, and loud reactive hill.
Let lions with their roar their thanks express,
With acclamations fhake the wilderness.
Let thunder clouds, that float from pole to pole,
With falvos loud falute Thee as they roll.
Ye monsters of the fea, ye noify waves,
Strike with applaufe the repercuffive caves.
Let hail and rain, let meteors form'd of fire,
And lambent flames, in this bleft work confpire.
Let the high cedar and the mountain pine
Lowly to thee, Great King, their heads incline,
Let every spicy odoriferous tree
Prefent its incenfe and its balm to Thee.
And thou, Heaven's viceroy o'er this world below,
In this blest task superior ardour show:
To view thyfelf, inflect thy reason's ray,
Nature's replenish'd theatre furvey;
Then all on fire the Author's skill adore,
And in loud fongs extol Creating Power.
Degenerate minds, in mazy error loft,
May combat Heaven, and impious triumphs boaft;
But, while my veins feel animating fires,
And vital air this breathing breaft inspires,
Grateful to Heaven, I'll ftretch a pious wing,
And fing His praise, who gave me power to fing.
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