their harps,

Or mountain tops, and harped upon
Their ear inclined, and held by sweet constraint
Their wing; not long, for strong desire, awaked
Of knowledge that to holy use might turn,
Still pressed them on to leave what rather seemed
Pleasure, due only when all duty's done.

And now beneath them lay the wished-for spot, The sacred bower of that renowned bard;

That ancient bard, ancient in days and song;
But in immortal vigour young, and young
In rosy health; to pensive solitude
Retiring oft, as was his wont on earth.

Fit was the place, most fit for holy musing. Upon a little mount, that gently rose,

He sat, clothed in white robes; and o'er his head
A laurel tree, of lustiest, eldest growth,

Stately and tall, and shadowing far and wide-
Not fruitless, as on earth, but bloomed, and rich
With frequent clusters, ripe to heavenly taste—
Spread its eternal boughs, and in its arms
A myrtle of unfading leaf embraced.
The rose and lily, fresh with fragrant dew,
And every flower of fairest cheek, around

Him, smiling flocked: beneath his feet, fast by
And round his sacred hill, a streamlet walked,
Warbling the holy melodies of heaven.

The hallowed zephyrs brought him incense sweet;
And out before him opened, in prospect long,
The river of life, in many a winding maze
Descending from the lofty throne of God,
That with excessive glory closed the scene.

Of Adam's race he was, and lonely sat, By chance that day, in meditation deep, Reflecting much of Time, and Earth, and Man. And now to pensive, now to cheerful notes, He touched a harp of wondrous melody;

A golden harp it was, a precious gift,

Which, at the Day of Judgment, with the crown

Of life, he had received from God's own hand,

Reward due to his service done on earth.

+

He sees their coming, and with greeting kind,

And welcome, not of hollow forged smiles,
And ceremonious compliment of phrase,

But of the heart sincere, into his bower
Invites like greeting they returned. Not bent
In low obeisancy, from creature most

Unfit to creature, but with manly form

Upright they entered in; though high his rank,
His wisdom high, and mighty his renown.
And thus, deferring all apology,

The two their new companion introduced.

Ancient in knowledge, bard of Adam's race, We bring thee one, of us inquiring what We need to learn, and with him wish to learn. His asking will direct thy answer best.

Most ancient bard, began the new-arrived, Few words will set my wonder forth, and guide Thy wisdom's light to what in me is dark.

Equipped for heaven, I left my native place : But first beyond the realms of light I bent My course; and there, in utter darkness, far Remote, I beings saw forlorn in wo,

Burning continually, yet unconsumed.

་

And there were groans that ended not, and sighs
That always sighed, and tears that ever wept
And ever fell, but not in Mercy's sight.
And still I heard these wretched beings curse
Almighty God, and curse the Lamb, and curse

The earth, the resurrection morn, and seek,
And ever vainly seek, for utter death.

And from above the thunders answered still,
"Ye knew your duty, but ye did it not."
And everywhere throughout that horrid den,
I saw a form of excellence, a form

Of beauty without spot, that nought could see
And not admire, admire and not adore.
And from its own essential beams it gave

Light to itself, that made the gloom more dark.
And every eye in that infernal pit

Beheld it still; and from its face, how fair!
O, how exceeding fair! for ever sought,
But ever vainly sought, to turn away.

That image, as I guess, was Virtue, for

Nought else hath God given countenance so fair. But why in such a place it should abide ?

What place it is? what beings there lament? Whence came they? and for what their endless groan? Why curse they God? why seek they utter death? And chief, what means the resurrection morn?

My youth expects thy reverend age to tell.

Thou rightly deem'st, fair youth, began the bard;

The form thou saw'st was Virtue, ever fair.

Virtue, like God, whose excellent majesty,
Whose glory virtue is, is omnipresent.
No being, once created rational,

Accountable, endowed with moral sense,

With sapience of right and wrong endowed,
And charged, however fallen, debased, destroyed;
However lost, forlorn, and miserable;

In guilt's dark shrouding wrapped, however thick;
However drunk, delirious, and mad,

With sin's full cup; and with whatever damned
Unnatural diligence it work and toil,

Can banish Virtue from its sight, or once
Forget that she is fair. Hides it in night,

In central night; takes it the lightning's wing,

And flies for ever on, beyond the bounds

Of all; drinks it the maddest

cup

of sin;

Dives it beneath the ocean of despair:

It dives, it drinks, it flies, it hides in vain.
For still the eternal beauty, image fair,
Once stamped upon the soul, before the eye
All lovely stands, nor will depart; so God
Ordains; and lovely to the worst she seems,
And ever seems; and as they look, and still
Must ever look upon her loveliness,