The smiling Plain and fertile Vale o'erlaid,

Chok'd the green Sod, and kill'd the springing Blade;
That, chang'd by Culture, may in time be seen,
Enrich'd by golden Grain, and Pasture green;
And these fair Acres rented and enjoy'd,
May those excell by Solway-moss destroy'd. *

Still must have mourn'd the Tenant of the day,
For Hopes destroy'd, and Harvests swept away;
To him the gain of future years unknown,
The instant grief and suffering were his own:
So must I grieve for many a wounded heart,
Chili'd by those Doubts which bolder minds impart;
Truth in the end shall shine divinely clear,
But sad the Darkness till those times appear;
Contests for Truth, as Wars for Freedom, yield
Glory and Joy to those who gain the field;
But still the Christian must in pity sigh
For all who suffer and uncertain die.

Here are who all the Church maintains, approve,
But yet the Church herself they will not love;
In angry speech, they blame the carnal tye,
Which pure Religion lost her Spirit by ;
What time from prisons, flames, and tortures led,
She slumber'd careless in a royal bed;

To make, they add, the Churches' glory shine,
Should Dioclesian reign, not Constantine.

*For an account of this extraordinary and interesting event, I

refer my readers to the Journals of the Year 1772.

"In pomp," they cry, "is England's Church array'd, "Her cool Reformers wrought like men afraid; "We would have pull'd her gorgeous Temples down, "And spurn'd her Mitre, and defil'd her Gown ; "We would have trodden low both Bench and Stall, "Nor left a Tithe remaining, great or small.”

Let us be serious-Should such trials come,
Are they themselves prepar'd for Martyrdom?
It seems to us that our Reformers knew
Th' important work they undertook to do;
An equal Priesthood they were loth to try,
Lest Zeal and Care should with Ambition die;
To them it seem'd that, take the Tenth away,
Yet Priests must eat, and you must feed or pay:
Would they indeed, who hold such pay in scorn,
Put on the muzzle when they tread the Corn?
Would they all, gratis, watch and tend the Fold,
Nor take one Fleece to keep them from the cold?

Men are not equal, and 'tis meet and right
That Robes and Titles our respect excite;
Order requires it, 'tis by vulgar Pride
That such regard is censur'd and denied ;
Or by that false enthusiastic Zeal

That thinks the Spirit will the Priest reveal,
And shew to all men, by their powerful speech,
Who are appointed and inspir'd to teach :
Alas! could we the dangerous rule believe,
Whom for their teachers should the Crowd receive?
Since all the varying kinds demand respect,
All press you on to join their chosen Sect,

Although but in this single point agreed,

"Desert your Churches and adopt our Creed."

We know full well how much our Forms offend The burthen'd Papist and the simple Friend; Him, who new Robes for every Service takes, And who in Drab and Beaver sighs and shakes; He on the Priest, whom Hood and Band adorn, Looks with the sleepy eye of silent scorn; But him I would not for my Friend and Guide, Who views such things with spleen or wears with pride.

See next our several Sects,-but first behold
The Church of Rome, who here is poor and old :
Use not triumphant rail'ry, or at least

Let not thy Mother be a whore and beast;
Great was her Pride indeed, in antient times,
Yet shall we think of nothing but her Crimes ?
Exalted high above all earthly things,

She plac'd her Foot upon the Necks of Kings;
But some have deeply since aveng'd the Crown,
And thrown her Glory and her Honours down;
Nor Neck nor Ear can she of Kings command,
Nor place a Foot upon her own fair Land.

Among her Sons, with us a quiet few,
Obscure themselves, her antient State review;
And fond and melancholy glances cast
On Power insulted, and on Triumph past:

They look, they can but look, with many a sigh,

On sacred Buildings doom'd in dust to lie ;

E

"On Seats," they tell," where Priests 'mid Tapers dim "Breath'd the warm Prayer,or tun'd the midnight Hymn; "Where trembling Penitents their Guilt confess'd,

"Where Want had succour, and Contrition, rest;...

"There weary Men from Trouble found relief,

兼

"There Men in Sorrow found repose from Grief:
"To scenes like these the fainting Soul retir'd;
"Revenge and Anger in these cells expir'd ;
"By Pity sooth'd, Remorse lost half her fears,
"And soften'd Pride dropt penitential tears.

"Then Convent-Walls and Nunnery-Spires arose, "In pleasant spots which Monk or Abbot chose, "When Counts and Barons, Saints devoted fed, "And making cheap exchange, had Pray'r for Bread.

"Now all is lost, the Earth where Abbeys stood, "Is Layman's Land, the Glebe, the Stream, the Wood; "His Oxen low where Monks retir'd to eat,

"His Cows repose upon the Prior's Seat;

"And wanton Doves within the Cloisters bill,

"Where the chaste Votary warr'd with wanton Will.”

Such is the change they mourn, but they restrain The rage of Grief and passively complain.

We've Baptists old and new; forbear to ask
What the distinction-I decline the task;
This I perceive, that when a Scct grows old,
Converts are few, and the Converted cold:
First comes the hot-bed Heat, and while it glows,
The Plants spring up, and each with vigour grows;

Then comes the cooler Day, and though awhile
The Verdure prospers and the Blossoms smile,
Yet poor the Fruit and form'd by long delay,
Nor will the Profits for the Culture pay;
The skilful Gard'ner then no longer stops,
But turns to other Beds for bearing Crops.

Some Swedenborgans in our streets are found, Those wandering Walkers on enchanted Ground; Who in our World, can other Worlds survey, And speak with Spirits though confin'd in Clay : Of Bible-Mysteries they the keys possess, Assur'd themselves where wiser Men but guess: "Tis theirs to see around, about, above,How Spirits mingle thoughts and Angels move; Those whom our grosser views from us exclude, To them appear-an heavenly Multitude; While the dark Sayings, seal'd to Men like us, Their Priests interpret and their Flocks discuss.

But while these gifted Men, a favour'd Fold, New Powers exhibit and new Worlds behold; Is there not danger lest their Minds confound The Pure above them with the Gross around? May not these Phaëtons, who thus contrive "Twixt Heaven above and Earth beneath to drive, When from their flaming Chariots they descend, The Worlds they visit in their Fancies blend ? Alas! too sure on both they bring disgrace, Their Earth is crazy, and their Heaven is base.

We have, it seems, who treat, and doubtless well, Of a chastizing, not awarding Hell;