And guards it with a sanction as severe As vengeance can inflict, or sinners fear: Else his own glorious rights he would disclaim, And man might safely trifle with his name. He bids him glow with unremitting love To all on earth, and to himself above; Condemns th' injurious deed, the sland'rous tongue, The thought that meditates a brother's wrong: Brings not alone the more conspicuous part, His conduct, to the test, but tries his heart.
Hark! universal nature shook and groan'd, "Twas the last trumpet-see the Judge enthron'd: Rouse all your courage at your utmost need, Now summon ev'ry virtue, stand and plead. What! silent? Is your boasting heard no more? That self-renouncing wisdom, learn'd before, Had shed immortal glories on your brow, That all your virtues cannot purchase now. All joy to the believer! He can speak- Trembling yet happy, confident yet meek.
Since the dear hour, that brought me to thy foot, And cut up all my follies by the root,
I never trusted in an arm but thine, Nor hop'd, but in thy righteousness divine: My pray'rs and alms, imperfect and defil'd, Were but the feeble efforts of a child; Howe'er perform'd, it was their brightest part, That they proceeded from a grateful heart; Cleans'd in thine own all purifying blood, Forgive their evil, and accept their good; I cast them at thy feet-my only plea Is what it was, dependence upon thee
While struggling in the vale of tears below, That never fail'd, nor shall it fail me now. Angelick gratulations rend the skies, Pride falls unpitied, never more to rise, Humility is crown'd, and Faith receives the prize.
Tantane, tam patiens, nullo certamine tolli
weeps the muse for England? What appears In England's case, to move the muse to tears? From side to side of her delightful isle Is she not cloth'd with a perpetual smile? Can Nature add a charm, or Art confer A new-found luxury not seen in her? Where under heav'n is pleasure more pursued, Or where does cold reflection less intrude? Her fields a rich expanse of wavy corn, Pour'd out from Plenty's overflowing horn; Ambrosial gardens, in which Art supplies The fervour and the force of Indian skies; Her peaceful shores, where busy Commerce waits To pour his golden tide through all her gates; Whom fiery suns, that scorch the russet spice Of eastern groves, and oceans floor'd with ice, Forbid in vain to push his daring way To darker climes, or climes of brighter day;
Whom the winds waft where'er the billows roll, From the world's girdle to the frozen pole ; The chariots bounding in her wheel-worn streets, Her vaults below, where ev'ry vintage meets; Her theatres, her revels, and her sports; The scenes to which not youth alone resorts, But age, in spite of weakness and of pain, Still haunts, in hope to dream of youth again; All speak her happy: let the muse look round From East to West, no sorrow can be found: Or only what, in cottages confin'd,
Sighs unregarded to the passing wind.
Then wherefore weep for England? What appears In England's case to move the muse to tears?
The prophet wept for Israel; wish'd his eyes Were fountains fed with infinite supplies: For Israel dealt in robbery and wrong; There were the scorner's and the sland'rer's tongue Oaths, us❜d as playthings or convenient tools, As int'rest biass'd knaves, or fashion fools; Adult'ry, neighing at his neighbour's door; Oppression, lab'ring hard to grind the poor; The partial balance, and deceitful weight; The treach❜rous smile, a mask for secret hate; Hypocrisy, formality in pray'r,
And the dull service of the lip were there, Her women, insolent and self-caress'd, By Vanity's unwearied finger dress'd, Forgot the blush, that virgin fears impart To modest cheeks, and borrow'd one from art; Were just such trifles, without worth or use, As silly pride and idleness produce;
Curl'd, scented, furbelow'd, and flounc'd around, With feet too delicate to touch the ground, They stretch'd the neck, and roll'd the wanton eye, And sigh'd for ev'ry fool that flutter'd by.
He saw his people slaves to ev'ry lust, Lewd, avaricious, arrogant, unjust; He heard the wheels of an avenging God Groan heavily along the distant road; Saw Babylon set wide her two-leav'd brass To let the military deluge pass; Jerusalem a prey, her glory soil'd,
Her princes captive, and her treasures spoil❜d; Wept till all Israel heard his bitter cry,
Stamp'd with his foot, and smote upon his thigh: But wept, and stamp'd, and smote his thigh in vain; Pleasure is deaf when told of future pain, And sounds prophetick are too rough to suit Ears long accustom❜d to the pleasing lute: They scorn'd his inspiration and his theme, Pronounc'd him frantick, and his fears a dream; With self-indulgence wing'd the fleeting hours, Till the foe found them, and down fell the tow'rs. Long time Assyria bound them in her chain, Till penitence had purg'd the publick stain, And Cyrus, with relenting pity mov'd, Return'd them happy to the land they lov❜d; There, proof against prosperity, a while They stood the test of her ensnaring smile, And had the grace in scenes of peace to show The virtue they had learn'd in scenes of woe: But man is frail, and can but ill sustain A long immunity from grief and pain;
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