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So peaceful refts, without a stone, a name, What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame. How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot;

A heap of duft alone remains of thee,

'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be !

Poets themfelves must fall, like those they fung,
Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue.
Ev'n he, whofe foul now melts in mournful lays,
Shall shortly want the gen'rous tear he pays;
Then from his clofing eyes thy form shall part,
And the last pang fhall tear thee from his heart;
Life's idle bufinefs at one gasp be o'er,
The Mufe forgot, and thou belov'd no

more

!

POPE.

CHAP. V.

MORNING HYMN.

THESE are thy glorious works, Parent of Good!

Almighty thine this univerfal frame

Thus wond'rous fair! thyfelf how wond'rous then!
Unfpeakable! who fitt'ft above these heav'ns,
To us invifible, or dimly feen

In these thy lowlieft works; yet these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine.
Speak ye who beft can tell, ye fons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with fongs
And choral fymphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heav'n,
On earth join all ye creatures to extol
Him firft, him laft, him midft, and without end,

Faireft

Faireft of ftars, laft in the train of night,

If better thou belong not to the dawn,

Sure pledge of day, that crown'd the smiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy fphere,
While day arifes, that sweet hour of prime.
Thou fun! of this great world both eye and foul,
Acknowledge him thy greater; found his praise
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'ft,
And when high noon haft gain'd, and when thou fall'f...-
Moon, that now meets the orient fun, now fly'ft
With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies;
And ye five other wand'ring fires, that move
In myftic dance not without fong, refound
His praife, who out of darkness call'd up light..
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth
Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix,

And nourish all things: let your ceafelefs change
Vary to our great Maker ftill new praise.
Ye mifts and exhalations, that now rife
From hill or ftreaming lake, dusky or grey,
Till the fun paint your fleecy fkirts with gold,
In honour to the world's great Author rise,
Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling fhowers,
Rifing or falling ftill advance his praife.

His praife, ye winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe foft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in fign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye, that warble as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Join voices all, ye living fals; ye birds,
That finging up to heaven-gate afcend,

Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk-
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness if I be filent, morn or even,

To hill or valley, fountain or fresh fhade,
Made vocal by my fong, and taught his praise.
Hail, univerfal Lord! be bounteous ftill
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd ought of evil, or conceal'd,
Disperse it, as now light difpels the dark.

MILTON.

CHAP. VI.

SATAN'S SOLILOQUY.

THOU that, with furpaffing glory crown'd,
Look'st from thy fole dominion like the god
Of this new world; at whofe fight all the stars
Hide their diminish'd heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
O fun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere;
Till pride, and worse ambition threw me down,
Warring in heav'n against heav'n's matchlefs King.
Ah, wherefore! he deferv'd no fuch return
From me, whom he created what I was
In that bright eminence, and with his good.
Upbraided none; nor was his fervice hard.
What could be lefs, than to afford him praise,
The eafieft recompenfe, and pay him thanks,

How

How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me,
And wrought but malice: lifted up so high
I 'fdain'd fubjection, and thought one step higher
Would fet me higheft, and in a moment quit
The debt immenfe of endless gratitude,
So burthenfome, ftill paying, ftill to owe;
Forgetful what from him I ftill receiv'd;
And understood not that a grateful mind
By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
Indebted and difcharged; what a burthen then
O had his pow'rful destiny ordain'd
Me fome inferior angel, I had flood

Then happy; no unbounded hope had rais'd
Ambition. Yet why not? fome other power
As great might have afpir'd, and me though mean
Drawn to his part; but other pow'rs as great
Fell not, but ftand unshaken, from within
Or from without, to all temptations arm'd.
Hadft thou the fame free will and pow'r to stand?
Thou hadft. Whom haft thou then, or what t'accufe,
But Heav'n's free love, dealt equally to all?
Be then his love accurs'd, fince love or hate,
To me alike, it deals eternal wo.

Nay, curs'd be thou! fince against his thy will
Chofe freely what it now so justly rues.
Me miferable! which way fhall I fly
Infinite wrath, and infinite defpair?
Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell!
And, in the loweft deep, a lower deep
Still threat'ning to devour me opens wide,
To which the hell I fuffer feems a heav'n..
O then at last relent: Is there no place

'Left

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?
None left but by fubmiffion; and that word
Difdain forbids me, and my dread of shame
Among the fpirits beneath, whom I feduc'd
With other promises, and other vaunts,
Than to fubmit, boafting I could subdue
Th' Omnipotent. Ah me! they little know
How dearly I abide that boast so vain,
Under what torments inwardly I groan,
While they adore me on the throne of hell:
With diadem and fceptre high advanc'd,
The lower ftill I fall, only fupreme
In mifery: fuch joy Ambition finds.
But fay I could repent, and could obtain,

By act of grace, my former ftate how foon

Would height recall high thoughts, how foon unfay
What feign'd Submiffion fwore! Ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void :

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd fo deep;
Which would but lead us to a worse relapse,
And heavier fall: fo fhould I purchase dear
Short intermiffion, bought with double fmart.
This knows my Punisher: therefore as far
From granting he, as I from begging peace:
All hope excluded thus, behold instead
Of us outcaft, exil'd, his new delight,
Mankind created, and for him this world.
So farewel Hope! and with Hope farewel Fear!
Farewel Remorfe! all good to me is loft;
Evil be thou my good: by thee at least
Divided empire with heav'n's King I hold,

By

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