Love only enters as a native there;
For, born in heaven, it does but fojourn here.
He that alone would wife and mighty be,
Commands that others love as well as he.
Love as he lov'd!-How can we foar fo high?
He can add wings, when he commands to fly.
Nor fhould we be with this command dismay'd;
He that examples gives, will give his aid;
For he took flefh, that, where his precepts fail,
His practice, as a pattern, may prevail.

His love at once, and dread inftruct our thought;
As Man he fuffer'd, and as God he taught.
Will for the deed he takes; we may with eafe
Obedient be; for if we love, we pleafe.
Weak though we are, to love is no hard task,
And love for love is all that Heaven does afk.
Love! that would all men just and temperate
make,

Kind to themfelves, and others for his fake.

'Tis with our minds as with a fertile ground'; Wanting this love, they must with weeds abound, Unruly paffions) whofe effects are worfe Than thorns and thiftles, fpringing from the curfe.

10

CANTO IV.

glory man, or mifery, is born;

Of his proud foe the envy or the scorn : Wretched he is, or happy, in extreme; Safe in himfelf, but great in Heaven's esteem: With love, of all created things the beft: Vithout it, more pernicious than the reft. or greedy wolves unguarded fheep devour ut while their hunger lafts, and then give o'er : Man's boundless avarice his want exceeds, And on his neighbours round about him feeds. His pride and vain ambition are so vast, That, deluge-like, they lay whole nations waste : Debauches and excefs (though with lefs noife)

great a portion of mankind destroys.

The beafts and monsters Hercules oppreft, light, in that age, fome provinces infeft; hefe more deftructive monsters are the bane

f

every age, and in all nations reign:

ut foon would vanish, if the world were blefs'd Vith facred love, by which they are reprefs'd, Impendent death, and guilt that threatens hell, re dreadful guests, which here with mortals dwell;

and a vex'd confcience, mingling with their joy 'houghts of defpair, does their whole life annoy : ut, love appearing, all thofe terrors fly; Ve live contented, and contented die. 'hey in whofe breaft this facred love has place, Death, as a paffage to their joy, embrace. louds and thick vapours, which obfcure the day, 'he fun's victorious beams may chace away; hofe which our life corrupt and darken, love The nobler ftar!) muft from the foul remove. pots are obferv'd in that which bounds the year; This brighter fan moves in a boundless sphere. of Heaven the joy, the glory, and the light; hines among Angels, and admits no night.

of gold;

Not, as they feign'd, that oaks fhould honey drop,
Or land neglected bear an unfown crop :
Love would make all things eafy, fafe, and cheap:
None for himself would either fow or reap:
Our ready help and mutual love would yield
A nobler harvest than the richeft field;
Famine and death, confin'd to certain parts,
Extended are by barrennefs of hearts.
Some pine for want, where others furfeit now;
But then we fhould the afe of plenty know.
Love would betwixt the rich and needy ftand;
And spread heaven's bounty with an equal hand;
At once the givers and receivers blefs;
Increase their joy, and make their fuffering lefs
Who for himself no miracle would make,

Difpens'd with feveral for the people's fake:
He that, long-fafting, would no wonder show,
Made loaves and fifhes, as they eat them, grow.
Of all his power, which boundless was above,
Here he us'd none, but to exprefs his love:
And fuch a love would make our joy exceed,
Not when our own, but other mouths, we feed.

Laws would be useless, which rude nature awes Love, changing nature, would prevent the law: Tigers and lions into dens we thruft;

But milder creatures with their freedom truft.
Devils are chain'd and tremble; but the Spoufe
No force but love, nor bond but bounty, knows.
Men (whom we now fo fierce and dangerous fee)
Would guardian-angels to each other be :
Such wonders can this mighty love perform;
Vultures to doves, wolves into lambs transform!
Love what Ifaiah prophefy'd can do,

Exalt the valleys, lay the mountains low;
Humble the lofty, the rejected raise,

Smooth and make straight our rough and crooked

ways.

Love, ftrong as death, and like it, levels all;
With that poffeft, the great in title fall:
Themfelves efteem but equal to the leaft,
Whom Heaven with that high character has
bleft.

This love, the centre of our union, can
Alone beftow complete repofe on man:
Tame his wild appetite, make inward peace,
And foreign ftrife among the nations cease.
No martial trumpet fhould disturb our rest,
Nor Princes arm, though to fubdue the East;
Where for the tomb fo many Heroes (taught
By thofe that guided their devotion) fought.
Thrice happy we, could we like ardour have
To gain his love, as they to win his grave!
Love as he lov'd! A love fo unconfin'd,
With arms extended, would embrace mankind,
Self-love would ceafe, or be dilated, when
We should behold as many felfs as men :
All of one family, in blood ally'd,
His precious blood, that for our ranfom dy'd!

TH

CANTO VI.

HOUGH the creation (fo divinely taught !)
Prints such a lively image on our thought,
That the first spark of new-created light,
From Choas ftrook, affects our present fight:
Yet the first Chriftians did esteem more bleft
The day of rifing, than the day of reft;
That every week might new occafion give,
To make his triumph in their memory live.
Then let our Muse compofe a facred charm,
To keep his blood among us ever warm:
And finging, as the Bleffed do above,
With our last breath dilate this flame of love.
But, on fo vaft a subject, who can find
Words that may reach th' ideas of his mind?
Our language fails: or, if it could supply,
What mortal thought can raise itself so high?
Despairing here, we might abandon art,
And only hope to have it in our heart.
But though we find this facred task too hard,
Yet the defign, th' endeavour, brings reward.
The contemplation does suspend our woe,
And make a truce with all the ills we know.
As Saul's afflicted spirit, from the found
Of David's harp, a prefent folace found:
So on this theme while we our Mufe engage,
No wounds are felt, of fortune or of age.
On divine love to meditate is peace,
And makes all care of meaner things to cease.

Amaz'd at once, and comforted, to find
A boundless Power so infinitely kind;
The foul contending to that light to fly
From her dark cell, we practise how to die:
Employing thus the Poet's winged art,
To reach this love, and grave it in our heart.

CANTO I.

HE fear of God is freedom, joy, and peace;

Though the word Fear some men may ill endure,
"Tis fuch a fear as only makes fecure.
Ask of no Angel to reveal thy fate;
Look in thy heart, the mirror of thy ftate.
He that invites will not th' invited mock;
Opening to all that do in earnest knock.
Our hopes are all well-grounded on this fear;
All our affurance rolls upon that sphere.
This fear, that drives all other fears away,
Shall be my fong; the morning of our day!

Where that fear is, there's nothing to be fear
It brings from heaven an Angel for a guard:
Tranquillity and peace this fear does give;

It is a beam, which he on man lets fall,
Of light; by which he made and governs all
'Tis God alone should not offended be;
But we please others, as more great than he
For a good caufe, the fufferings of man
May well be borne': 'tis more than Angels can
Man, fince his fall, in no mean ftation refts,
Above the Angels, or below the beafts.
He with true joy their hearts does only fill,
That thirst and hunger to perform his will.

here, though rich, shall in this world be vext ; d fadly live, in terror of the next.

e* world's great conqueror would his point pursue,

id wept because he could not find a new : hich had he done, yet ftill he would have cry'd, make him work, until a third he spy'd. abition, avarice, will nothing owe

Heaven itself, unless it make them grow. ough richly fed, man's care does ftill exceed: s but one mouth, yet would a thousand feed. wealth and honour, by fuch men poffeft, t encrease not, there is found no reft. I their delight is while their wifh comes in; 1 when it ftops, as there had nothing been. ftrange men fhould neglect their present store, d take no joy, but in purfuing more; though arriv'd at all the world can aim: is is the mark and glory of our frame. foul capacious of the Deity,

thing, but he that made, can fatisfy.
thoufand worlds, if we with him compare,
Is than fo many drops of water are.
en take no pleasure but in new designs:

id what they hope for what they have outfhines.
r fheep and oxen feem no more to crave;
ith full content feeding on what they have:
x not themselves for an encrease of store;
t think to-morrow we shall give them more.
hat we from day to day receive from Heaven,
ey do from us expect it should be given.
e made them not, yet they on us rely;
ore than vain men upon the Deity:

ore beasts than they! that will not understand, at we are fed from his immediate hand, an, that in him has Being, moves and lives, hat can he have or ufe but what he gives? that no bread can nourishment afford, useful be, without his Sacred Word.

CANTO II.

'ARTH praises conquerors for fhedding blood: Heaven, those that love their foes, and do them good.

is terrestrial honour to be crown'd

›r ftrowing men, like rushes, on the ground.

* Alexander.

True glory 'tis to rise above them all,
Without th' advantage taken by their fall.
He that in fight diminishes mankind,
Does no addition to his ftature find:
But he that does a noble nature show,
Obliging others, ftill does higher grow.
For virtue practis'd fuch an habit gives,
That among men he like an Angel lives.
Humbly he doth, and without envy, dwell;
Lov'd and admir'd by those he does excell.
Fools anger fhew, which politicians hide:
Bleft with this fear, men let it not abide.
The humble man, when he receives a wrong,
Refers revenge to whom it doth belong.
Nor fees he reason why he should engage,
Or vex his fpirit, for another's rage.
Plac'd on a rock, vain men he pities, toft
On raging waves, and in the tempeft loft.
The rolling planets and the glorious fun
Still keep that order which they first begun :
They their first leffon conftantly repeat,
Which their Creator, as a law, did set.
Above, below, exactly all obey:

But wretched men have found another way;
Knowledge of good and evil, as at first,
(That vain persuasion!) keeps them still accurft!
The Sacred Word refufing as a guide,
Slaves they become to luxury and pride.
As clocks, remaining in the skilful hand
Of fome great mafter, at the figure stand;
But when abroad, neglected they do go,
At random ftrike, and the falfe hour do fhow:
So from our Maker wandering, we ftray,
Like birds that know not to their nefts the way.
In him we dwelt before our exile here;
And may, returning, find contentment there;
True joy may find, perfection of delight;
Behold his face, and shun eternal night.

Silence, my Mufe! make not these jewels cheap,
Expofing to the world too large an heap.
Of all we read, the Sacred Writ is beft;
Where great truths are in feweft words expreft.
Wrestling with death, thefe lines I did indite;
No other theme could give my foul delight.
O, that my youth had thus employ'd my pen!
Or that I now could write as well as then!
But 'tis of grace, if sickness, age, and pain,
Are felt as throes, when we are born again :
Timely they come to wean us from this earth;
As pangs that wait upon a second birth.

TWO

POETS

CANTO I.

we prize, when in their verfe we find
Some great employment of a worthy mind.
Angels have been inquifitive to know
The fecret, which this oracle does fhow.
What was to come, Ifaiah did declare;
Which the defcribes, as if she had been there ;-
Had feen the wounds, which to the reader's view
She draws fo lively, that they bleed anew.
As ivy thrives, which on the oak takes hold,
So, with the Prophet's, may her lines grow old!
If they should die, who can the world forgive,
(Such pious lines!) when wanton Sappho's live?
Who with his breath his image did infpire,
Expects it fhould foment a nobler fire;

Not love which brutes, as well as men may know;
But love like his, to whom that breath we owe.
Verfe fo defign'd, on that high subject wrote,
Is the perfection of an ardent thought;
The smoke which we from burning incenfe raife,
When we complete the facrifice of praise.
In boundless verfe the fancy foars too high
For any object but the Deity.

What mortal can with Heaven pretend to share
In the fuperlative of wife and fair!
A meaner fubject when with these we grace,
A giant's habit on a dwarf we place.
Sacred should be the product of our Mufe,
Like that sweet oil, above all private use;
On pain of death forbidden to be made,
But when it should be on the altar laid.
Verfe fhews a rich inestimable vein,

When, dropp'd from heaven, 'tis thither fent again.

Of bounty 'tis that he admits our praise, Which does not him, but us that 'yield it, raise. For, as that Angel up to heaven did rife, Borne on the flame of Manoah's facrifice; So, wing'd with praise, we penetrate the sky, Teach clouds, and stars, to praise him as we fly; The whole creation by our fall made groan! His praise to echo, and fufpend their moan. For that he reigns all creatures should rejoice; And we with songs supply their want of voice. The Church triumphant, and the Church below, In fongs of praise their prefent union show:

E that did firft this way of writing g

He Convers d with the Almighty face to fa

Wonders he did in facred verse unfold,

When he had more than eighty winters tel:
The writer feels no dire effect of age;
Nor verfe, that flows from fo divine a rage.
Eldest of Poets, he beheld the light,
When first it triumph'd o'er eternal night:
Chaos he faw; and could diftin&tly tell
How that confusion into order fell:
As if confulted with, he has expreft
The work of the Creator, and his reft:
How the flood drown'd the first offending rack,
Which might the figure of our globe deface.
For new-made earth, fo even and fo fair,
Lefs equal now, uncertain makes the air:
Surpriz'd with heat and unexpected cold,
Early distempers make our youth look old:
Our days fo evil, and fo few, may tell
That on the ruins of that world we dwell.
Strong as the oaks that nourish'd them, and high,
That long-liv'd race did on their force rely,
Neglecting heaven. But we, of shorter date!
Should be more mindful of impending Fate.
To worms, that crawl upon this rubbish here,
This fpan of life may yet too long appear:
Enough to humble, and to make us great,
If it prepare us for a nobler feat.

Mofes

Which well obferving, he, in numerous lines,
Taught wretched man how faft his life declines:
In whom he dwelt, before the world was made;
And may again retire, when that shall fade.
The lafting Iliads have not liv'd so long,
As his and Deborah's triumphant fong.
Delphos unknown, no Muse could them inspire,
But that which governs the celestial choir.
Heaven to the pious did this art reveal;
And from their store succeeding Poets fteal:
Homer's Scamander for the Trojans fought,
And fwell'd fo high, by her old Kishon taught:
His river fcarce could fierce Achilles stay;
Her's, more fuccefsful, fwept her foes away.
The host of heaven, his Phœbus and his Mars,
He arms; inftructed by her fighting stars,
She led them all against the common foe:
But he (mif-led by what he faw below!)
The Powers above, like wretched men, divides,
And breaks their union into different fides.
The nobleft parts which in his Heroes fhine,
May be but copies of that Heroine,
Homer himself, and Agamemnon fhe
The writer could, and the commander, be.
Truth fhe relates, in a fublimer strain

Than all the tales the boldest Greeks could feign:
For what the fung, that Spirit did indite,
Which gave her courage and fuccefs in fight.
A double garland crowns the matchless dame;
From Heaven her Poem and her conqueft came,
Though of the Jews fhe merit most esteem;
Yet here the Christian has the greater theme:
Her martial fong defcribes how Sifera fell;
This fings our triumph over death and heil.
The rifing light employ'd the facred breath
Of the bleft Virgin and Elizabeth.
In fongs of joy the Angels fung his birth:
Here, how he treated was upon the earth,
Trembling we read! th' affliction and the fcorn,
Which, for our guilt, fo patiently was borne !
Conception, birth, and fuffering, all belong
(Though various parts) to one celeftial fong:
And fhe, well ufing fo divine an art,
Has, in this concert, fung the tragic part.

As Hannah's feed was vow'd to facred ufe, So here this Lady confecrates her Mufe: With like reward may Heaven her bed adorn, With fruit as fair, as by her Muse is born!

WRITTEN BY MRS. WHARTON.

A devout rapture! fo divine a hymn,
It may become the highest Seraphim!
For they, like her, in that celestial choir,
Sing only what the Spirit does infpire.
Taught by our Lord, and theirs, with us they may
For all, but pardon for offences, pray.

SOME REFLECTIONS OF HIS UPON THE SEVERAL PETITIONS IN THE SAME PRAYER.

I.

H'

IS facred name, with reverence profound, Should mention'd be, and trembling at the found!

It was Jehovah; 'tis our Father now;

So low to us does Heaven vouch:afe to bow! *
He brought it down, that taught us how to pray;
And did fo dearly for our ranfom pay.

II. His kingdom come. For this we pray in vain,
Unless he does in our affections reign:
Abfurd it were to wifh for fuch a King,
And not obedience to his fceptre bring;
Whofe yoke is eafy, and his burthen light;
His fervice freedom, and his judgments right.

III. His will be done. In fact 'tis always done;
But, as in heaven, it must be made our own:
His will should all our inclinations fway,
Whom nature and the universe obey.
Happy the man! whose wishes are confin'd
To what has been eternally defign'd:
Referring all to his paternal care,

To whom more dear, than to ourfelves, we are.
IV. It is not what our avarice hoards up;
"Tis he that feeds us, and that fills our cup;
Like new-born babes, depending on the breast,
From day to day, we on his bounty feast.
Nor fhould the foul expect above a day,
To dwell in her frail tenement of clay :
The fetting fun fhould feem to bound our race,
And the new day a gift of special grace.

V. That be fhould all our trefpaffes forgive,
While we in hatred with our neighbours live;
Though fo to pray may feem an easy task,
We curfe ourselves when thus inclin'd we afk.
This prayer to ufe, we ought with equal care
Our fouls, as to the Sacrament, prepare.
The nobleft worship of the Power above,
Is to extol, to imitate, his love:
Not to forgive our enemies alone,
But ufe our bounty that they may be won.

VI. Guard us from all temptations of the foe:
And those we may in feveral flations know:
The rich and poor in flippery places ftand:
Give us enough! but with a fparing hand!
Not ill-perfuading want; nor wanting wealth;
But what proportion'd is to life and health.
For not the dead, but living, fing thy praife;
Exalt thy kingdom, and thy glory raise.

"Favete linguis! * *
"Virginibus puerifque canto."

*Pfalm xviii. 9.

HORAT.