H bore. Of sixty years he seemed; and well might last To sixty more, but that he lived too fast, Refined himself to soul, to curb the sense, And made almost a sin of abstinence. Yet had his aspect nothing of severe, But such a face as promised him sincere. Nothing reserved or sullen was to see; But sweet regards, and pleasing sanctity. Mild was his accent, and his action free. With eloquence innate his tongue was armed; Though harsh the precept, yet the people charmed. For, letting down the golden chain from high, He drew his audience upward to the sky: And oft with holy hymns he charmed their ears (A music more melodious than the spheres ); For David left him, when he went to rest, His lyre; and after him he sung the best. He bore his great commission in his look; But sweetly tempered awe, and softened all he spoke. He preached the joys of heaven and pains of hell, And warned the sinner with becoming zeal; But on eternal mercy loved to dwell. He taught the gospel rather than the law; And forced himself to drive; but loved to draw. For fear but freezes minds; but love, like heat, Exhales the soul sublime, to seek her native seat. To threats the stubborn sinner oft is hard, Wrapped in his crimes, against the storm prepared ; But when the milder beams of mercy play, He melts, and throws his cumbrous cloak away. Lightning and thunder (heaven's artillery) As harbingers before the Almighty fly: Those but proclaim his style, and disap |