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
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 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.
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 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 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,
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