To work by twilight were to work too late,
And age is twilight to the night of fate.
To will alone, is but to mean delay,

To work at prefent, is the ufe of day,

For man's employ much thought and deed remain,
High thoughts the foul, hard deeds the body ftrain,
And mysteries ask believing, which to view,
Like the fair fun, are plain, but dazzling too.

Be Truth, fo found, with facred heed poffeft,
Not kings have power to tear it from thy breaft.
By no blank charters harm they where they hate,
Nor are they vicars, but the hands of fate..
Ah! fool and wretch, who lett'ft thy foul be ty'd
To human laws! or muft it fo be try'd?

Or will it boot thee, at the latest day,

When Judgment fits, and Juftice afks thy plea,
That Philip that, or Gregory taught thee this,
Or John or Martin? All may teach amifs :
For every contrary in each extreme

This holds alike, and each may plead the fame.
Wouldst thou to power a proper duty shew?
'Tis thy first task the bounds of power to know;
The bounds once past, it holds the fame no more,
Its nature alters, which it own'd before,
Nor were fubmiffion humbleness exprest,
But all a low idolatry at best.

Power from above, fubordinately fpread,

Streams like a fountain from th' eternal head;
There, calm and pure, the living waters flow,
But roars a torrent or a flood below,

Each flower ordain'd the margins to adorn,
Each native beauty, from its roots is torn,
And left on deferts, rocks and fands, are toft,
All the long travel, and in ocean loft.

So fares the foul, which more that power reveres,
Man claims from God, than what in God inheres..

THE GIFT OF POETRY.

ROM realms of never-interrupted peace,

FROM

From thy fair station near the throne of Grace,
From choirs of angels, joys in endless round,
And endless harmony's enchanting found,
Charm'd with a zeal the Maker's praife to fhew,
Bright Gift of Verfe defcend, and here below
My ravish'd heart with rais'd affection fill,
And warbling o'er the foul incline my will.
Among thy pomp, let rich expreffion wait,
Let ranging numbers form thy train compleat,
While at thy motions over all the sky
Sweet founds, and echoes fweet, refounding fly
And where thy feet with gliding beauty tread,
Let Fancy's flowery spring erect its head.

It comes, it comes, with unaccustom'd light,
The tracts of airy thought grow wondrous bright,
Its notions ancient Memory reviews,

And young Invention new defigns purfues.
To fome attempt my will and wishes prefs,
And pleasure, rais'd in hope, forebodes fuccefs.
My God, from whom proceed the gifts divine,
My God! I think I feel the gift is thine.

Be

Be this no vain illufion which I find,
Nor nature's impulfe on the paffive mind,
But reafon's act, produc'd by good defire,
By grace enliven'd with Celestial Fire;
While bafe conceits, like misty sons of night,
Before fuch beams of glory take their flight,
And frail affections, born of earth, decay,
Like weeds that wither in the warmer ray.

I thank thee, Father! with a grateful mind.
Man 's undeferving, and thy Mercy kind..
I now perceive, I long to fing thy praise,
I now perceive, I long to find my lays
The fweet incentives of another's love,
And fure fuch longings have their rife above.
My resolution stands confirm'd within,
My lines afpiring eagerly begin;

Begin, my lines, to fuch a subject due,

That aids our labours, and rewards them too!
Begin, while Canaan opens to mine eyes,
Where fouls and fongs, divinely form'd, arife.
As one whom o'er the fweetly-vary'd meads
Intire, recefs and lonely pleasure leads,

To verdur'd banks, to paths adorn'd with flowers,
To fhady trees, to clofely-waving bowers,
To bubbling fountains, and aside the stream
That foftly gliding fooths a waking dream,
Or bears the thought inspir'd with heat along,
And with fair images improves a fong;
Through facred anthems, fo may fancy range,
So ftill from beauty, ftill to beauty change,

To

To feel delights in all the radiant way,
And, with fweet numbers, what it feels repay.
For this I call that ancient Time appear,
And bring his rolls to ferve in method here;
His rolls which acts, that endless honour claim,
Have rank'd in order for the voice of fame.

My call is favour'd: Time from first to last
Unwinds his years, the prefent fees the past;
I view their circles as he turns them o'er,
And fix my footsteps where he went before.

The page unfolding would a top disclose,
Where founds melodious in their birth arofe.
Where firft the Morning-ftars together fung,
Where first their harps the Sons of Glory ftrung,
With fhouts of joy while Hallelujahs rife
To prove the chorus of eternal skies.

Rich sparkling ftrokes the letters doubly gild,
And all 's with love and admiration fill'd.

TO grace thofe lines, which next appear to fight, The pencil fhone, with more abated light; Yet ftill the pencil fhone, the lines were fair, And awful Mofes ftands recorded there; Let his, replete with flames and praise divine, Let his, the first-remember'd fong be mine, Then rife my thought, and in thy prophet find What joy fhould warm thee, for the work defign'd.

To

To that great, act, which rais'd his heart, repair,
And find a portion of his spirit there.

A Nation helpless and unarm'd I view,

Whom strong revengeful troops of war purfue,
Seas stop their flight, their camp must prove their grave,
Ah! what can fave them? God alone can fave.
God's wondrous voice proclaims his high command,
He bids their leader wave the facred wand,
And where the billows flow'd, they flow no more,
A road lies naked, and they march it o'er.
Safe may the fons of Jacob travel through,
But why will hard'ned Egypt venture too?
Vain in thy rage, to think those waters flee
And rife like walls, on either hand, for thee.
The night comes on, the feason for furprize,
Yet fear not, Ifrael, God directs thine eyes.
A fiery cloud I fee thine angel ride,

His chariot is thy light, and he thy guide.
The day comes on, and half thy fuccours fail,
Yet fear not, Ifrael, God will still prevail.
I see thine angel from before thee go,
To make the wheels of venturous Egypt flow,
His rolling cloud inwraps its beams of light,
And what fupply'd thy day, prolongs their night.
At length the dangers of the deep are run,
The further brink is past, the bank is won;
The leader turns to view the foes behind,
Then waves his folemn wand within the wind,
Oh Nation freed by wonders, cease thy fear,
And ftand, and fee the Lord's Salvation here.

Ye