POETICAL WORKS

OF THE

REV. DR. EDWARD YOUNG.

WITH

THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.

In 4 Valenes,

VOL. III.

PHILADELPHIA.

PRINTED FOR BENJAMIN JOHNSON, JACOB

JOHNSON, & ROBERT JOHNSON.

COLLEGE
LIBRARY

aternity

THE LAST DAY.

A POEM.

IN THREE BOOKS.

Venit summa dies...................Virg.

BOOK I.

Ipse pater, media mimborum in nocte corusca Fulmina molitur dextra. Quo maxima motu Terra tremit: fugere feræ; et mortalia corda Per gentes humilis stravit pavor.................Virg.

WHILE others sing the fortune of the great Empire and arms, and all the pomp of state, With Britain's hero* set their souls on fire, And grow immortal as his deeds inspire, I draw a deeper scene; a scene that yields A louder trumpet, and more dreadful fields; The world alarm'd, both earth and heaven o'erthrown, And gasping Nature's last tremendous groan; Death's ancient sceptre broke, the teeming tomb, The righteous Judge, and man's eternal doom.

* The duke of Marlborough.

'Twixt joy and pain I view the bold design,
And ask my anxious heart if it be mine.
Whatever great or dreadful has been done
Within the sight of conscious stars or sun
Is far beneath my daring. I look down
On all the splendors of the British crown.
This globe is for my verse a narrow bound;
Attend me, all ye glorious worlds around!
O! all ye angels, howsoe'er disjoin'd,
Of ev'ry various order, place, and kind,
Hear, and assist, a feeble mortal's lays;
'Tis our eternal King I strive to praise.

But chiefly thou, great Ruler! Lord of all!
Before whose throne archangels prostrate fall,
If at thy nod, from discord, and from night,
Sprang beauty, and yon sparkling worlds of light,
Exalt e'en me; all inward tumults quell;
The clouds and darkness of my mind dispel ;
To my great subject thou my breast inspire,
And raise my lab'ring soul with equal fire.

Man bear thy brow aloft, view ev'ry grace In God's great offspring, beauteous Nature's face; See Spring's gay bloom, see golden Autumn's store, See how Earth smiles, and hear old Ocean roar, Leviathans but heave their cumbrous mail,

It makes a tide, and wind-bound navies sail,