"Twas but to prove how quickly with a frown, He that had rais'd thee, could have pluck'd thee down. Peculiar is the grace by thee possess'd, And all from shore to shore is free beside. He found the laurel only-happier you Th' unfading laurel, and the virgin too*! Now think, if Pleasure have a thought to spare; If God himself be not beneath her care; If Business, constant as the wheels of time, Can pause an hour to read a serious rhime; If the new mail thy merchants now receive, Or expectation of the next give leave; Oh think, if chargeable with deep arrears For such indulgence gilding all thy years, How much, though long neglected, shining yet, The beams of heav'nly truth have swell'd the debt. When persecuting zeal made royal sport With tortur'd innocence in Mary's court, And Bonner, blithe as shepherd at a wake, Enjoy'd the show, and danc'd about the stake; The sacred book, it's value understood, Receiv'd the seal of martyrdom in blood. Those holy men, so full of truth and grace, Seem to reflection of a diff'rent race, Meek, modest, venerable, wise, sincere, In such a cause they could not dare to fear; *Alluding to the grant of Magna Charta, which was extorted from King John by the barons at Runnymede near Windsor. They could not purchase Earth with such a prize, Or spare a life too short to reach the skies. From them to thee convey'd along the tide, Their streaming hearts pour'd freely, when they died, Those truths, which neither use nor years impair, Invite thee, woo thee, to the bliss they share. What dotage will not vanity maintain? What web too weak to catch a modern brain? The moles and bats in full assembly find, On special search, the keen-ey'd eagle blind. And did they dream, and art thou wiser now! Prove it-if better, I submit and bow. Wisdom and goodness are twin-born, one heart Must hold both sisters, never seen apart. So then as darkness overspread the deep, Ere Nature rose from her eternal sleep, And this delightful Earth, and that fair sky, Leap'd out of nothing, call'd by the Most High; By such a change thy darkness is made light, Thy chaos order, and thy weakness might; And He, whose pow'r mere nullity obeys, Who found thee nothing, form'd thee for his praise. To praise him is to serve him, and fulfil, Doing and suff'ring, his unquestion'd will; Tis to believe what men inspir'd of old, How shall a verse impress thee? by what name If dear society be worth a thought, And if the feast of freedom cloy thee not, Reflect that these, and all that seems thine own, Held by the tenure of his will alone, Like angels in the service of their Lord, Remain with thee, or leave thee at his word; Those rights, that millions envy thee, appear, Thy glory, and thy shame if unimprov'd) |