There, where great emperors their heads lay down,
Tir'd with the burden of a crown;
There, where the mighty, popular, and great
Are happy in a dear retreat;

Enjoy that solid peace which here in vain,
In grots and shady walks they sought t' obtain:

None of hell's agents can or dare molest
This awful sanctuary of rest:

No prisoners' sighs, no groanings of the slave,
Disturb the quiet of the grave.

From toil and labour here they ever cease,
And keep a sabbath of sweet rest and peace.

Why then does Heaven on mortals life bestow,
When 'tis thus overtax'd with woe?
Why am I forc'd to live against my will,
When all the good is lost in ill ?

My sighs flow thick, my groans sound from afar,
Like falling waters to the traveller.

THE INFIDEL.

FAREWELL, fruition, thou grand cruel cheat, Which first our hopes dost raise, and then defeat; Farewell, thou midwife, to abortive bliss,

Thou mystery of fallacies.

Distance presents the object fair,

With charming features, and a graceful air;
But when we come to seize the inviting prey,
Like a shy ghost, it vanishes away.

So to the unthinking boy the distant sky
Seems on some mountain's surface to rely:

He with ambitious haste climbs the ascent,
Curious to touch the firmament;

But when, with an unwearied pace,
Arriv'd he is at the long-wish'd-for place,
With sighs the sad defeat he does deplore-
His heaven is still as distant as before.

And yet 'twas long e'er I could throughly see This grand impostor's frequent treachery: Though often fool'd, yet I should still dream on Of pleasure in reversion:

Though still he did my hopes deceive, His fair pretensions I would still believe. Such was my charity, that though I knew And found him false, yet I would think him true.

But now he shall no more with shows deceive,
I will no more enjoy, no more believe;
The unwary juggler has so often shown

His fallacies, that now they're known.—
Shall I trust on? the cheat is plain;
I will not be imposed upon again;
I'll view the bright appearance from afar,
But never try to catch the falling star.

THE CHOICE.

Stet quicunque volet potens
Aulæ culmine lubrico, &c.

No, I shan't envy him, whoe'er he be,
That stands upon the battlements of state!
Stand there who will for me,

I'd rather be secure than great.

Of being so high the pleasure is but small,
But long the ruin, if I chance to fall.

Let me in some sweet shade serenely lie,
Happy in leisure and obscurity!

Whilst others place their joys

In popularity and noise,

Let my soft minutes glide obscurely on,
Like subterraneous streams, unheard, unknown.

Thus, when my days are all in silence past,
A good plain countryman I'll die at last.
Death cannot choose but be

To him a mighty misery,

Who to the world was popularly known,
And dies a stranger to himself alone.

THE MEDITATION.

It must be done, my soul, but 'tis a strange,
A dismal and mysterious change,

When thou shalt leave this tenement of clay,
And to an unknown somewhere wing away;
When time shall be eternity, and thou

Shalt be thou know'st not what, and live thou know'st not how.

Amazing state! No wonder that we dread
To think of death, or view the dead.
Thou'rt all wrapp'd up in clouds, as if to thee
Our very knowledge had antipathy.

Death could not a more sad retinue find

Sickness and pain before, and darkness all behind.

Some courteous ghost, tell this great secresy,
What 'tis you are, and we must be.

You warn us of approaching death, and why
May we not know from you what 'tis to die?
But you, having shot the gulf, delight to see
Succeeding souls plunge in with like uncertainty.

When life's close knot, by writ from destiny,
Disease shall cut, or age untie;

When after some delays, some dying strife,
The soul stands shivering on the ridge of life;
With what a dreadful curiosity

Does she launch out into the sea of vast eternity!

So when the spacious globe was delug'd o'er,
And lower holds 'could save no more,

On the utmost bough the astonish'd sinners stocd,
And view'd th' advances of th' encroaching flood;
O'ertopp'd at length by th' element's increase,
With horror they resign'd to the untried abyss.

HYMN TO DARKNESS.

HAIL, thou most sacred, venerable thing!
What muse is worthy thee to sing?

Thee, from whose pregnant, universal womb
All things, even light, thy rival, first did come.
What dares he not attempt that sings of thee,
Thou first and greatest mystery ?

Who can the secrets of thy essence tell?
Thou, like the light of God, art inaccessible.

Before great Love this monument did raise,
This ample theatre of praise;
Before the folding circles of the sky
Were tun'd by him who is all harmony;
Before the morning stars their hymn began,
Before the council held for man,

Before the birth of either time or place,
Thou reign'st unquestion'd monarch in the empty
space.

Thy native lot thou didst to light resign,
But still half of the globe is thine.

Here with a quiet, but yet awful hand,
Like the best emperors thou dost command.
To thee the stars above their brightness owe,
And mortals their repose below;

To thy protection fear and sorrow flee,

And those that weary are of light, find rest in thee.

Though light and glory be the Almighty's throne,
Darkness is his pavilion;

From that his radiant beauty, but from thee
He has his terror and his majesty :

Thus, when he first proclaimed his sacred law,
And would his rebel subjects awe,

Like princes on some great solemnity,

H' appear'd in's robes of state, and clad himself with thee.

The bless'd above do thy sweet umbrage prize,

When, cloy'd with light, they veil their eyes; The vision of the Deity is made

More sweet and beatific by thy shade;
But we, poor tenants of this orb below,
Don't here thy excellencies know