Whose shape would make them, had they bulk and fize,
More hideous foes than fancy can devife;
With helmet heads, and dragon fcales adorned,
The mighty myriads, now fecurely fcorned,
Would mock the majefty of man's high birth,
Defpife his bulwarks, and unpeople earth :
Then with a glance of fancy to furvey,
Far as the faculty can ftretch away,

Ten thousand rivers poured at his command
From urns, that never fail, through every land;
Thefe like a deluge with impetuous force,
Those winding modeftly a filent course;

The cloud-furmounting alps, the fruitful vales;
Seas, on which every nation spreads her fails;
The fun, a world whence other worlds drink light,
The crefcent moon, the diadem of night;
Stars countless, each in his appointed place,
Faft-anchored in the deep abyss of space-
At fuch a fight to catch the poet's flame,
And with a rapture like his own exclaim,
'These are thy glorious works, thou source of good,
How dimly seen, how faintly understood!
Thine, and upheld by thy paternal care,
This univerfal frame, thus wondrous fair;
Thy power divine, and bounty beyond thought,
Adored and praised in all that thou haft wrought.

Abforbed in that immenfity I fee,

I shrink abafed, and yet afpire to thee;
Inftruct me, guide me to that heavenly day,

Thy words, more clearly than thy works, display,
That, while thy truths my groffer thoughts refine,
I may resemble thee and call thee mine.

Oh bleft proficiency! furpaffing all
That men erroneously their glory call,
The recompenfe that arts or arms can yield,
The bar, the fenate, or the tented field.
Compared with this fublimeft life below,

Ye kings and rulers, what have courts to fhow?
Thus ftudied, used and confecrated thus,

On earth what is, feems formed indeed for us;
Not as the plaything of a froward child,
Fretful unless diverted and beguiled,
Much lefs to feed and fan the fatal fires
Of pride, ambition, or impure defires,
But as a fcale, by which the foul afcends
From mighty means to more important ends,
Securely, though by steps but rarely trod,
Mounts from inferior beings up to God,
And fees, by no fallacious light or dim,
Earth made for man, and man himself for him.
Not that I mean to approve, or would enforce,
A fuperftitious and monaftic course:

Truth is not local, God alike pervades
And fills the world of traffic and the fhades,
And may be feared amidst the busiest scenes,
Or fcorned where butinefs never intervenes.
But 'tis not easy with a mind like our's,
Conscious of weakness in its nobleft powers,
And in a world where, other ills apart,
The roving eye misleads the careless heart,
To limit thought, by nature prone to stray
Wherever freakish fancy points the way;
To bid the pleadings of felf-love be still,
Refign our own and feek our Maker's will;
To spread the page of fcripture, and compare
Our conduct with the laws engraven there;
To measure all that paffes in the breast,
Faithfully, fairly, by that facred teft;
To dive into the fecret deeps within,
To fpare no paffion and no favourite fin,
And fearch the themes, important above all,
Ourselves and our recovery from our fall.
But leifure, filence, and a mind released

From anxious thoughts how wealth may be increased,
How to fecure, in fome propitious hour,

The point of intereft or the post of power,
A foul ferene, and equally retired

From objects too much dreaded or defired,

Safe from the clamours of perverse dispute,
At least are friendly to the great pursuit.
Opening the map of God's extenfive plan,
We find a little ifle, this life of man;
Eternity's unknown expanfe appears
Circling around and limiting his years.
The bufy race examine, and explore

Each creek and cavern of the dangerous fhore,
With care collect what in their eyes excels,
Some fhining pebbles, and fome weeds and shells;
Thus laden, dream that they are rich and great,
And happiest he that groans beneath his weight:
The waves overtake them in their serious play,
And every hour sweeps multitudes away;
They fhriek and fink, furvivors ftart and weep,
Pursue their sport, and follow to the deep.
A few forfake the throng; with lifted eyes
Afk wealth of heaven, and gain a real prize,
Truth, wisdom, grace, and peace like that above,
Sealed with his fignet, whom they serve and love;
Scorned by the reft, with patient hope they wait
A kind release from their imperfect ftate,
And unregretted are foon fnatched away
From scenes of forrow into glorious day.

Nor these alone prefer a life reclufe,
Who feek retirement for its proper use

The love of change, that lives in every breast,
Genius, and temper, and defire of reft,
Difcordant motives in one centre meet,
And each inclines its votary to retreat.
Some minds by nature are averse to noise,
And hate the tumult half the world enjoys,
The lure of avarice, or the pompous prize,
That courts difplay before ambitious eyes;
The fruits that hang on pleasure's flowery ftem,
Whatever enchants them, are no fnares to them.
To them the deep recefs of dusky groves,
Or foreft, where the deer fecurely roves,

The fall of waters, and the fong of birds,
And hills that echo to the diftant herds,
Are luxuries excelling all the glare

The world can boast, and her chief favourites share.
With eager ftep, and carelessly arrayed,

For fuch a cause the poet feeks the shade,
From all he fees he catches new delight,
Pleafed fancy claps her pinions at the fight,
The rifing or the fetting orb of day,
The clouds that flit, or flowly float away,
Nature in all the various fhapes she wears,
Frowning in ftorms, or breathing gentle airs,
The fnowy robe her wintry ftate affumes,
Her fummer heats, her fruits, and her perfumes,