When brighter flames fhall cut a darker night;
When thefe ftrong demonstrations of a God
Shall hide their heads, or tumble from their spheres,
And one eternal curtain cover all !
Struck at that thought, as new awak'd, I lift
A more enlighten'd eye, and read the stars
To man ftill more propitious; and their aid
(Though guiltlefs of idolatry) implore;
Nor longer rob them of their noblest name.
ye Dividers of my Time! Ye bright
Accomptants of my days, and months, and
In your fair Kalendar diftinctly mark'd!
Since that authentic, radiant register,
Though man infpects it not, ftands good against him;
Since You, and years, roll on, though man stands still;
Teach me my days to number, and apply
My trembling heart to Wisdom; now beyond
All fhadow of excufe for fooling on.
Age fmooths our path to prudence; fweeps afide
The fnares keen Appetite, and paffion, spread
To catch ftray fouls; and woe to that grey head,
Whofe Folly would undo what Age has done!
Aid then, aid, all ye stars !-Much rather, Thou,
Great Artift! Thou, whofe finger fet aright
This exquifite Machine, with all its Wheels,
Though intervolv'd, exact; and pointing out
Life's rapid and irrevocable flight,
With fuch an Index fair as none can mifs,
Who lifts an eye, nor fleeps till it is clos'd.
Open mine eye, dread Deity! to read
The tacit doctrine of thy works; to fee
Things as they are, un-alter'd through the glass 1330 Of worldly wishes. Time, Eternity!
('Tis thefe, mif-measur'd, ruin all mankind)
Set them before me; let me lay them both
In equal fcale, and learn their various weight.
Let Time appear a Moment, as it is;
And let Eternity's full orb, at once,
Turn on my foul, and strike it into heaven.
When fhall I fee far more than charms me now?
Gaze on creation's model in Thy breast
Unveil'd, nor wonder at the tranfcript more?
When this vile, foreign, duft, which smothers all
That travel Earth's deep vale, shall I shake off?
When fhall my foul her incarnation quit,
And, re-adopted to thy bleft embrace,
Obtain her Apotheofis in Thee?
Doft think, Lorenzo, this is wandering wide?
No, 'tis directly ftriking at the mark;
And how I blefs night's confecrating shades,
Which to a temple turn an universe;
To wake thy dead devotion was my point;
Fill us with great ideas, full of heaven,
And antidote the peftilential earth!
In every storm, that either frowns, or falls,
What an afylum has the foul in prayer!
And what a fane is this, in which to pray!
And what a God muft dwell in fuch a fane!
O what a genius muft inform the skies!
And is Lorenzo's falamander-heart
Cold, and untouch'd, amid these facred fires?
O ye-nocturnal sparks! ye glowing embers,
On heaven's broad hearth! who burn, or burn no more,
Who blaze, or die, as Great Jehovah's breath
Or blows you, or forbears; affift my song;
Pour your whole influence; exorcife his heart,
So long poffeft; and bring him back to man.
And is Lorenzo a demurrer fill?
Pride in thy parts provokes thee to contest
Truths, which, contested, put thy parts to shame.
Nor fhame they more Lorenzo's bead than heart,
A faithlefs heart, how despicably small!
Too ftreight, aught great, or generous, to receive!
Fill'd with an atom! fill'd, and foul'd, with Self!
And felf-mistaken felf, that lafts an hour!
Inftincts and passions, of the nobler kind,
Lie fuffocated there ; or they alone,
Reafon apart, would wake high hope; and open,
To ravish'd thought, that intellectual sphere,
Where, order, wisdem, goodness, providence,
Their endless miracles of love display,
And promife all the truly-great defire.
The mind that would be happy, must be great;
Great, in its wishes; great, in its furveys,
Extended views a narrow mind extend;
Push out its corrugate, expanfive make,
Which, ere long, more than planets fhall embrace. 1385
A man of compass makes a man of worth;
Divine contemplate, and become divine.
As man was made for glory, and for bliss, All littleness is in approach to woe;
Open thy bofom, fet thy wishes wide,
And let in manhood; let in happiness ;
Admit the boundless theatre of thought
From nothing, up to God; which makes à man.
Take God from nature, nothing great is left;
Man's mind is in a pit, and nothing fees
Man's heart is in a jakes, and loves the mirė.
Emerge from thy profound; erect thine eye;
See thy diftrefs! how close art thou befieg'd!
Befieg'd by nature, the proud fceptic's foe!
Inclos'd by thefe innumerable worlds,
Sparkling conviction on the darkest mind,
As in a golden net of Providence.
How art thou caught, fure captive of belief!
From this thy bleft captivity, what art,
What blafphemy to reason, sets thee free !
This fcene is heaven's indulgent violence :
Canft thou bear up against this tide of glory?
What is earth bofom'd in these ambient orbs,
But, faith in God impos'd, and press'd on man?
Dar't thou ftill litigate thy desperate caufe,
Spite of these numerous, awful, witnesses,
And doubt the depofition of the skies?
O how laborious is thy way to ruin!
Laborious! 'tis impracticable quite;
To fink beyond a doubt, in this debate,
With all his weight of wisdom and of will,
And crime flagitious, I defy a fool.
Some with they did; but no man difbelieves.
God is a Spirit; Spirit cannot strike
Thefe grofs, material organs; God by man
As much is feen, as man a God can see,
In thefe astonishing exploits of power.
What order, beauty, motion, distance, size!
Concertion of design, how exquisite!
How complicate, in their divine police!
Apt means! great ends! confent to general good!—
Each attribute of these material gods,
So long (and that with fpecious pleas) ador'd,
A feparate conqueft gains o'er rebel thought;
And leads in triumph the whole mind of man.
Lorenzo! this may feem harangue to thee;
Such all is apt to seem, that thwarts our will.
And doft thou, then, demand a fimple proof
Of this great mafter moral of the skies,
Unskill'd, or dif-inclin'd, to read it there?
Since 'tis the bafis, and all drops without it,
Take it, in one compact, unbroken chain.
Such proof infifts on an attentive ear;
'Twill not make one amid a mob of thoughts,
And, for thy notice, struggle with the world.
Retire; the world fhut out;-thy thoughts call
Imagination's airy wing reprefs;---
Lock up thy fenfes ;-let no paffion tir;-
Wake all to reafon ;-let her reign alone;
Then, in thy foul's deep filence, and the depth
Of Nature's filence, midnight, thus inquire,
As I have done; and fhall inquire no more.
VOL. III.
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