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But I'll retire beneath the cross:
Saviour, at thy dear feet I lie;
And the keen fword that justice draws,
Seeking a divine Calm in a restless World.
"O Mens, quæ ftabili fata Regis vice, &c."
Cafimire, Book III. Od. 28.
ETERNAL mind, who rul'ft the fates
Of dying realms, and rising states, With one unchang'd decree;
While we admire thy vaft affairs,
Say, can our little trifling cares
Afford a fmile to thee?
Thou scattereft honours, crowns, and gold:
The bubbles and the oar:
Here a vain man his fceptre breaks,
Plunder'd and fnatch'd from hand to hand,
As power decays or grows.
Earth's but an atom: Greedy fwords
Let greedy fwords ftill fight and flay,
"HOW meanly dwells th' immortal mind t
"How vile thefe bodies are!
Why was a clod of earth design'd "T'enclose a heavenly star?
"Weak cottage where our fouls refide!
"This flesh a tottering wall;
"With frightful breaches gaping wide "The building bends to fall.
"All round it ftorms of trouble blow,
"And waves of forrow roll;
"Cold waves and winter ftorms beat through,
“And pain the tenant-soul.
"Alas! how frail our ftate !" faid I:
And thus went mourning on,
Till sudden from the cleaving sky
My foul all felt the glory come,
And breath'd her native air
Then the remember'd heaven her home,
And the a prifoner here.
Straight she began to change her key,
And joyful in her pains,
She fung the frailty of her clay
In pleasurable ftrains.
"How weak the prifon is where I dwell !
"Flesh but a tottering wall,
"The breaches chearfully foretel,
"No more, my friends, fhall I complain,
"Now let the tempeft blow all round,
"And beat this houfe of bondage down, "To let the ftranger fly.
"I have a manfion built above
By the Eternal Hand;
"And thould the earth's old bafis move,
"My heavenly house must stand.
"Yes, for 'tis there my Saviour reigns, "(I long to fee the God)
"And his immortal ftrength futains
Hark, from on high my Saviour calls:
LAUNCHING into ETERNITY.
T was a brave attempt! adventurous He,
I fee the furging brine: the tempeft raves :
Such is the foul that leaves this mortal land
(Her faith can govern death) fhe spreads her wings
And lofes by degrees the fight of mortal things.
She floats on the broad deep with infinite delight,
A Prospect of the RESURRECTION.
OW long shall death the tyrant reign
And triumph o'er the juft,
While the rich blood of martyrs flain
When shall the tedious night be
When will our Lord appear?
Our fond defires would pray him down,
Our love embrace him here.
Let faith arife, and climb the hills,
How diftant are his chariot-wheels,
Lo, I behold the scattering shades,
I see the Lord of glory come,
I hear the voice, "Ye dead, arise !"