Expect not here, the known successful arts
To win attention, and command our hearts.
Fiction! be far away; let no machine,
Descending here, no fabled god, be seen;
Behold the God of gods indeed descend,
And worlds unnumber'd his approach attend!
Lo! the wide theatre, whose ample space
Must entertain the whole of human race,
At Heav'n's all-pow'rful edict is prepar'd,
And fenc'd around with an immortal guard.
Tribes, provinces, dominions, worlds, o'erflow
The mighty plain, and deluge all below,
And ev'ry age and nation pours along;
Nimrod and Bourbon mingle in the throng;
Adam salutes hs youngest son: no sign
Of all those ages which their births disoin.
How empty learning, and how vain is art!

But as it mends the life, and guides the heart!

160

170

What volumes have been swell'd, what time been spent,
To fix a hero's birth-day or descent!

What joy must it now yield, what rapture raise,
To see the glorious race of ancient days?

To greet those worthies who perhaps have stood
Illustrious on record before the flood?

Alas! a nearer care your soul demands,
Cæsar unnoted to your presence stands.

How vast the concourse! not the number more
The waves that break on the resounding shore,

180

The leaves that tremble in the shady grove,
The lamps that gild the spangled vaults above;
Those overwhelming armies, whose command
Said to one empire Fall; another Stand;

197

Whose rear lay wrapt in night, while breaking dawn
Rous'd the broad front, and call'd the battle on;
Great Xerxes' world in arms, proud Cannæ's field,
Where Carthage taught victorious Rome to yield,
(Another blow had broke the Fates' decree,
And earth had wanted her fourth monarchy)
Immortal Blenheim, fam'd Ramillia's host;
They all are here, and here they all are lost:
Their millions swell to be discern'd in vain,
Lost as a billow in th' unbounded main.

This echoing voice now rends the yielding air, "For judgment, judgment, Sons of men! prepare!" Earth shakes anew, I hear her groans profound, And Hell thro' all her trembling realms resound. Whoe'er thou art, thou greatest pow'r of earth, Bless'd with most equal planets at thy birth, Whose valour drew the most successful sword, Most realms united in one common lord, Who, on the day of triumph saidst, Be thine The skies, Jehovah, all this world is mine; Dare not to lift thine eye.--- Alas! my Muse! How art thou lost? what numbers canst thou chuse ?

A sudden blush inflames the waving sky,

And now the crimson curtains open fly;

210

Lo! far within, and far above all height,

Where heav'n's great Sov'reign reigns in worlds of
Whence Nature he informs, and with one ray, [light,
Shot from his eye, does all her works survey,
Creates, supports, confounds! where time, and place,
Matter, and form, and fortune, life, and grace,
Wait humbly at the footstool of their God,
And move obedient to his awful nod;
Whence he beholds us vagrant emmets crawl
At random on this air-suspended ball,
(Speck of creation) if he pour one breath,
The bubble breaks, and 'tis eternal death.
Thence issuing I behold, (but mortal sight
Sustains not such a rushing sea of light)

I see, on an empyreal flying throne

Sublimely rais'd, heav'n's everlasting Son,

220

230

Crown'd with that Majesty which form'd the world,
And the grand rebel flaming downward hurl'd.
Virtue, Dominion, Praise, Omnipotence,
Support the train of their triumphant Prince.
A zone, beyond the thought of angels bright,
Around him, like the zodiac, winds its light,
Night shades the solemn arches of his brows,
And in his cheek the purple morning glows.
Where'er, serene, he turns propitious eyes,
Or we expect or find a paradise;

But if resentment reddens their mild beams,
The Eden kindles, and the world's in flames.
Volume 11.

On one hand Knowledge shines in purest light;
On one the sword of Justice, fiercely bright.
Now bend the knee in sport, present the reed;
Now tell the scourg'd Impostor he shall bleed!

240

2

Thus glorious thro' the courts of heav'n the Source
Of life and death eternal bends his course;
Loud thunders round him roll, and lightnings play;
Th' angelic host is rang'd in bright array:

Some touch the string, some strike the sounding shell,
And mingling voices in rich concert swell;
Voices seraphic: bless'd with such a strain,
Could Satan bear, he were a god again.

Triumphant King of glory! Soul of Bliss!
What a stupendous turn of fate is this?
O! whither art thou rais'd above the scorn
And indigence of him in Bethle'm born;
A needless, helpless, unaccounted guest,
And but a second to the fodder'd beast ?'

250

How chang'd from him who, meekly prostrate laid,
Vouchsaf'd to wash the feet himself had made!
From him who was betray'd, forsook, deny'd,
Wept, languish'd, pray'd, bled, thirsted, groan'd, and

259

Hung pierc'd and bare, insulted by the foe,

[dy'd?

All heav'n in tears above, earth unconcern'd below?
And was 't enough to bid the sun retire?
Why did not Nature at thy groan expire?
I see, I hear, I feel, the pangs divine;
The world is vanish'd,---I am wholly thine.

Mistaken Caiaphas! ah! which blasphem'd,

Thou or thy pris'ner? which shall be condemn'd? Well might'st thou rend thy garments, well exclaim, Deep are the horrors of eternal flame!

But God is good! 'tis wondrous all! ev'n he

270

Thou gav'st to death, shame, torture, dy'd for thee.
Now the descending triumph stops its flight,
From earth full twice a planetary height:

There all the clouds condens'd, two columns raise,
Distinct with orient veins and golden blaze;
One fix'd on earth, and one in se1, and round
Its ample foot the swelling billows sound:
These an immeasurable arch support,
The grand tribunal of this awful court:

280

Sheets of bright azure, from the purest sky,

Stream from the crystal arch, and round the columns

Death, wrapt in chains, low at the basis lies,

[fly;

And on the point of his own arrow dies.

Here high enthron'd th' eternal Judge is plac'd,
With all the grandeur of his Godhead grac'd;
Stars on his robes in beauteous order meet,
And the sun burns beneath his awful feet.
Now an archangel, eminently bright,
From off his silver staff, of wondrous height,
Unfuris the Christian flag, which waving flies,
And shuts and opens more than half the skies:
The Cross so strong a red, it sheds a stain,
Where'er it floats, on earth, and air, and main ;
Young.]

cij

290