O for their song to reach my lofty theme!
Inspire me, Night! with all thy tuneful spheres,
Much rather thou who dost these spheres inspire!
Whilst I with seraphs share seraphic themes,
And shew to men the dignity of man,
Lest I blaspheme my subject with my song.
Shall Pagan pages glow celestial flame,
And Christian languish? On our hearts, not heads,
Falls the foul-infamy. My heart, awake:
What can awake thee, unwak'd by this,
"Expended Deity on human weal?"

Feel the great truths which burst the tenfold night
Of heathen error, with a golden flood
Of endless day. To feel is to be fir'd;
And to believe, Lorenzo, is to feel.

Thou most indulgent, most tremendous Pow'r!
Still more tremendous for thy wond'rous love;
That arms with awe more awful thy commands,
And foul transgression dips in sevenfold guilt;
How our hearts tremble at thy love immense !
In love immense, inviolably just!

Thou, rather than thy justice should be stain'd,
Didst stain the cross; and, work of wonders far
The greatest, that thy dearest far might bleed.

Bold thought! shall I dare speak it or repress?
Should man more execrate or boast the guilt
Which rous'd such vengeance? which such love inflam'd!
O'er guilt (how mountainous!) with outstretch'd arms
Stern Justice, and soft-smiling Love, embrace,
Supporting, in full majesty, thy throne,
When seem'd its majesty to need support,
Or that, or man, inevitably lost:

What but the fathomless of thought divine
Could labour such expedient from despair,
And rescue both? Both rescue! both exalt!
O how are both exalted by the deed?
The wond'rous deed! or shall I call it more?
A wonder in Omnipotence itself!
A mystery, no less to gods than men!

Not thus our infidels th' Eternal draw,
A God all o'er consummate, absolute,
Full orb'd, in his whole round of rays complete :

They set at odds Heav'n's jarring attributes,
And with one excellence, another wound;
Maim heav'n's perfection, break its equal beams,
Bid mercy triumph over-God himself,
Undeify'd by their opprobrious praise:
A God all mercy is a God unjust.

Ye brainless wits! ye baptiz'd infidels!

Ye worse for mending! wash'd to fouler stains!
'The ransom was paid down; the fund of heav'n,
Heav'n's inexhaustible, exhausted fund,
Amazing and amaz'd, pour'd forth the price,
All price beyond: tho' curious to compute,
Archangels fail'd to cast the mighty sum:
Its value vast ungrasp'd by minds create,
For ever hides and glows in the Suprême.
And was the ransom paid? It was; and paid
(What can exalt the bounty more?) for you.
The sun beheld it-No, the shocking scene
Drove back his chariot: Midnight veil'd his face;
-Not such as this, not such as Nature makes:
A midnight Nature shudder'd to behold;
A midnight new! a dread eclipse (without
Opposing spheres) from her Creator's frown!
Sun! didst thou fly thy Maker's pain? or start
At that enormous load of human guilt

Which bow'd his blessed head, o'erwhelm'd his cross;
Made groan the centre, burst earth's marble womb
With pangs, strange pangs! deliver'd of her dead?
Hell howl'd; and heav'n that hourlet fall a tear:
Heav'n wept, that man might smile! Heav'n bled, that
Might never die!

[man

And is devotion virtue? "Tis compell❜d. What heart of stone but glows at thoughts like these? Such contemplations mount us, and should mount The mind still higher, nor e'er glance on man Unraptur'd, uninflam'd.-Where roll my thoughts To rest from wonders! other wonders rise; And strike where'er they roll: my soul is caught: Heav'n's sov'reign blessings clust'ring from the cross, Rush on her in a throng, and close her round The pris'ner of amaze!-In his blest life I see the path, and in his death the price,

And in his great ascent the proof supreme
Of immortality. And did he rise?
Hear, O ye Natious! Hear it, O ye Dead!
He rose,
he rose! he burst the bars of death.
Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates,
And give the King of Glory to come in.
Who is the King of Glory? He who left
His throne of glory for the pang of death.
Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates,
And give the King of Glory to come in.
Who is the King of Glory? He who slew
The rav'nous foe that gorg'd all human race!
The King of Glory he, whose glory fill'd
Heav'n with amazement at his love to man;
And with divine complacency behield
Pow'rs most illumin'd wilder'd in the theme.

1

The theme, the joy, how then shall man sustain ? Oh, the burst gates! crush'd sting! demolish'd throne! Last gasp! of vanquish d death. Shout, earth and heav'ny This sum of good to man! whose nature then Took wing, and mounted with him from the tomb Then, then, I rose; then first humanity Triumphant pass'd the crystal ports of light, (Stupendous guest!) and seiz'd eternal youth, Seiz'd in our name. E'er since 'tis blasphemous To call man mortal. Man's mortality

1

Was then transfer'd to death; and heav'n's duration
Unalienably seal'd to this frail frame,

This child of dust-Man, all-immortal! hail;
Hail, Heav'n, all lavish of strange gifts to man!
Thine all the glory, man's the boundless bliss.
Where am I wrapt by this triumphant theme,
On Christian joy's exulting wing, above
Th' Aonian mount!--Alas, small cause for joy!
What if to pain immortal? if extent
Of being, to preclude a close of woe?
Where, then, my boast of immortality?
I boast it still, tho' cover'd o'er with guilt;
For guilt, not innocence, his life he pour'd
Tis guilt alone can justify his death;
Not that, unless his death can justify
Relenting guilt in heav'n's indulgent sighte

If, sick of folly, I relent, he writes

My name in heav'n with that inverted spear

(A spear deep-dip'd in blood!) which pierc'd his side, And open'd there a font for all mankind,

cure,

Who strive, who combat crimes, to drink and live: This, only this, subdues the fear of death. And what is this?-survey the wondrous And at each step let higher wonder rise! "Pardon for infinite offence! and pardon "Thro' means that speak its value infinite! "A pardon bought with blood! with blood divine! "With blood divine of him I made my foe! "Persisted to provoke! tho' woo'd and aw'd, "Bless'd and chastis'd, a flagrant rebel still; "A rebel 'midst the thunders of his throne! "Nor I alone! a rebel universe!

My species up in arms! not one exempt! "Yet for the foulest of the foul he dies;

"Most joy'd for the redeem'd from deepest guilt!
"As if our race were held of highest rank,
And Godhead dearer as more kind to man!"
Bound ev'ry heart, and every bosom burn!
O what a scale of miracles is here!

Its lowest round high planted on the skies;
Its tow'ring summit lost beyond the thought
Of man or angel! Oh that I could climb
The wonderful ascent with equal praise!
Praise! flow for ever (if astonishment
Will give thee leave) my praise for ever flow;
Praise ardent, cordial, constant, to high heav'n
More fragrant than Arabia sacrific'd,

And all her spicy mountains in a flame.

So dear, so due to Heav'n, shall praise descend With her soft plume (from plausive angels wing First pluck'd by man) to tickle mortal ears, Thus diving in the pockets of the great? Is praise the perquisite of ev'ry paw, Tho' black as hell, that grapples well for gold? Oh love of gold, thou meanest of amours! Shall praise her odours waste on virtue's dead; Embalm the base, perfume the stench of guilt, Earn dirty bread by washing Ethiops fair;

Removing filth, or sinking it from sight,
A scavenger in scenes, where vacant posts
Like gibbets yet untenanted, expect

Their future ornaments? From courts and thrones
Return, apostate Praise! thou vagabond!
Thou prostitute! to thy first love return;
Thy first, thy greatest, once unrival'd theme.
There flow redundant, like Meander flow.
Back to thy fountain, to that parent pow'r
Who gives the tongue to sound, the thought to soar,
The soul to be. Men homage pay to men;
Thoughtless beneath whose dreadful eye they bow,
In mutual awe profound, of clay to clay,

Of guilt to guilt, and turn their backs on thee,
Great Sire! whom thrones celestial ceaseless sing,
To prostrate angels an amazing scene!

O the presumption of man's awe for man!--
Man's Author, End, Restorer, Law, and Judge!
Thine, all; day thine, and thine this gloom of night,
With all her wealth, with all her radiant worlds,
What, night eternal, but a frown from thee?
What heav'n's meridian glory but thy smile?
And shall not praise be thine, nor human praise,
While heav'n's high host on hallelujah's live?
O may I breathe no longer than I breathe
My soul in praise to HIM who gave my soul,
And all her infinite of prospect fair,

Cut thro' the shades of hell, great Love! by thee
Oh most adorable! most unador'd!

Where shall that praise begin which ne'er should end?
Where'er I turn, what claim on all applause!

How is Night's sable mantle labour'd o'er,
How richly wrought with attributes divine!

What wisdom shines! what love! This midnight pomp,
This gorgeous arch, with golden worlds inlaid!
Built with divine ambition! nought to thee;
For others this profusion. Thou, apart,
Above, beyond, Oh tell me, mighty Mind!
Where art thou? shall I dive into the deep?
Call to the sun? or ask the roaring winds
For their Creator? Shall I question loud
The thunder, if in that th' Almighty dwells