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TWO CANTOS.

Occafioned upon fight of the fifty-third chapter of Isciab turned into verfe by Mrs. Wharton.

CANTO I.

POSTS we prize, when in their verse 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 the had been there;

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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! IO
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; 15
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 raise,
When we complete the facrifice of praise.

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In boundless verse the fancy foars too high
For any object but the Deity.

What mortal can with Heav'n pretend to share
In the fuperlatives 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 Muse,
Like that sweet oil, above all private ufe,
On pain of death forbidden to be made,
But when it should be on the altar laid.
Verfe fhews a rich ineftimable vein,

When dropp'd from heav'n 't is thither fent again.

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Of bounty 't is that he admits our praise,

Which does not him, but us that yield it, raise :
For as that angel up to heav'n did rise,
Borne on the flame of Manoah's facrifice;
So, wing'd with praife, we penetratethe 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 fongs fupply their want of voice.
The church triumphant, and the church below,
In fongs of praise their present union show;
Their joys are full; our expectation long;
In life we differ, but we join in song.
Angels and we, affifted by this art,
May fing together, tho' we dwell apart.
Volume 11.

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Thus we reach heav'n, while vainer poems muft No higher rife than winds may lift the duft. From that they spring; this from his breath that gave, To the first duft, th' immortal soul we have His praise well fung, (our great endeavour here) Shakes off the dust, and makes that breath appear. 54

CANTO II.

He that did first this way of writing grace*,
Convers'd with the Almighty face to face:
Wonders he did in facred verse unfold,
When he had more than eighty winters told.
The writer feels no dire effect of age,
Nor verfe that flows from fo divine a rage.
Eldeft of poets, he beheld the light,
When first it triumph'd o'er eternal night :
Chaos he faw, and could diftinctly tell
How that confufion into order fell.
As if confulted with, he has expreft

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The work of the Creator, and his reft;

How the flood drown'd the first offending race,
Which might the figure of our globe deface.
For new-made earth, fo even and so fair,
Lefs equal now, uncertain makes the air ;
Surpris'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.
* Mofes.

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Strong as the oaks that nourish'd them, and high,
That long-liv'd race did on their force rely,
Neglecting Heav'n; but we of fhorter date!
Should be more mindful of impendent fate.
To worms that crawl upon this rubbish here,
This fpan of life may yet too long appear:
Enough to hunible, and to make us great,
If it prepare us for a nobler feat.

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Which well obferving, he, in numerous lines,
Taught wretched man how fast his life declines: 30
In whom he dwelt before the world was made,
And may again retire when that fhall fade. :
The lafting Iliads have not liv'd fo long
As his and Deborah's triumphant fong.
Delphos unknown, no Muse could them infpire 35
But that which governs the celestial choir.
Heav'n to the pious did this art revealy
And from their fore fucceeding poets steal.
Homer's Scamander for the Trojans fought,
And fwell'd fo high, by her old Kifhon taught, 40
His river scarce could fierce Achilles flay;
Her's, more fuccessful, swept her foes away.
The hoft of heav'n, his Phoebus and his Mars,
He arms, inftructed by her fighting stars.
She led them all against the common foe;
But he (mifled by what he saw below!)
The pow'rs above, like wretched men, divides,
And breaks their union into diff 'rent fides.

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The nobleft parts which in his heroes shine,
May be but copies of that heroine.

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Homer himself, and Agamemnon, she

The writer could, and the commander, be.
Truth the relates in a fublimer strain,

Thap all the tales the boldest Greeks could feign;
For what the fung that spirit did endite,
Which gave her courage and success in fight.
A double garland crowns the matchless dame;
From Heav'n her poem and her conquest came.

Tho' of the Jews the merit most eftcem,
Yet here the Christian has the greater theme :.
Her martial fong defcribes how Sis'ra fell:
This fings our triumph over death and hell.
The rising light employ'd the facred breath
Of the bleft Virgin and Elisabeth.

In fongs of joy the angels fung his birth:
Here how he treated was upon the earth
Trembling we read! th' affliction and the scorn,
Which for our guilt fo patiently was borne!
Conception, birth, and fuff`ring, all belong,
(Tho' various parts) to one celestial fong;
And fhe, well using so divine an art,
Has in this confort fung the tragick part.

As Hannah's feed was vow'd to facred use,

So here this lady confecrates her Muse.
With like reward may Heav'n her bed adorn,
With fruit as fair as by her Muse is born!

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