Our house, our land, our shadowy grove,
The very mistress of our love,
Ah, me; we soon must leave!
Of all our trees, the hated boughs
Of cypress shall alone diffuse
Their fragrance o'er our grave.
To others shall we, then, resign
The num'rous casks of sparkling wine
Which frugal now we store?
With them a more deserving heir
(Is this our labour, this our care?)
Shall stain the stucco floor.
"Is there a God?" the Sceptic cries, Profanely daring, and absurdly wise.
Ask the loud thunder! Ask the lightning's glare! When terror, riding on his fiery car,
Flashing thro' the blue profound,
Shakes the vaulted heav'ns around
Or ask the troubled deep,
When o'er the surge the dire tornados sweep,
Bid the vext surface into mountains rise,
And wild confusion mingles waves, and skies;
While the poor Pilot, pale with dread,
Sees ghastly death hang foaming o'er his head ;-
Trembling she'll tell what awful pow'r presides
To sink, or swell to rage, her hoarse resounding
tides.
Ask of the skies, who form'd their shining frame;
Who rang'd the starry legions in array;
Who thro' the void elanc'd the comet's flame,
And from its golden fountain pour'd the day?
Who bends the concave of the sev'n-fold bow?
Who gives the rising morn its roseat glow?
In tenfold darkness now involves the sphere;
While stalk terrific thro' the dreadful night
Rav'ning Death, and pale Affright,
And shake the shiv'ring heart with frantic fear?
Are proofs of POWER too weak? behold around
BOUNTY profuse, and LOVE, that knows no bound;;
For thee ungrateful man! his fav'rite care,
He shed a thousand charms on Nature's face,
All sweetly blended-the sublime, the fair,
Order divine, and soul enchanting grace;
Cloth'd the gay pastures with enliv'ning green,
Arch'd with embouring shades the sylvan scene;
Swell'd the high mountain with majestic pride,
Slop'd the deep vale, and down its winding side
Bid many a fresh rill flow, that marm'ring strays Most musical in many a waving maze.
For thee his vernal Zephyrs play,
And in rich colours blooms the flow'ry May; For thee his handmaid Nature show'rs around Her ample stores, and loads the gladden'd ground; For thee his Moons their silver beams unfold, And Suns with regal grandeur blaze in gold.
Yet Man, with reason blind, perverse of will,
Caprice his guide, and lust his law,
Still prone to interdicted ill,
Nor Love can melt, nor Pow'r can awe;
Of Heav'n's unnumber'd bounties while possestThe goodness he blasphemes, that makes him blest: Weak reptile! dares with impious pride Oppose th' Omnipotent's command,
Nor suffers his uplifted hand.
To lay the vengeful bolt aside.
Insatiate Famine, flame-ey'd War,
Foul Disease's ghastly train,
And pining Grief, and agonizing Pain,
Outrageous Frenzy, sullen:ey'd Despair,
Whose hand determin'd grasps the dart
To drive it to her heart,
Pale cheek'd Anxiety, that knows no rest,
And fell Remorse with snaky tresses crown'd
With all her thousand Fiends of horror round,
That pierce with guilty pangs the secret breast;
And that dread voice, that dogs the godless crew,
Which silent long, at length with awful roll,
Like thunder pealing thro' the shudd'ring Soul,
Compels it to believe and tremble too :
All at his footstool wait his dread command,
Grim-visag'd Vengeance heads the grisly band,
Arm'd with his iron rod,
With all the flames and thunders of her God,
Her host of marshall'd Ills she leads below,
And deals around variety of woe.
Hail Greatest! Wisest! Best!
While peal thy thunders and thy lightnings glow,
Let the bold tremble, and the haughty bow,
And thrilling terrots chill the Tyrant's breast!
But blest the pious, gentle, gen'rous, Race,
On whom imprest in many a lovely line,
The beamings of thy beauty shrine,
With full reflected grace!
Theirs is heartchearing Hope of eye serene,
Mild as some smiling Angel's placid mien;
Theirs is strong-pinion'd Faith, that dares the sky,
Theirs Peace etherial ever calm and even;
Theirs the rapt Seraph's soul-entrancing joy;
Theirs the fair dawning of the day of Heaven.
To them thy flaming bolts no terrors hear,
While in their dread Almighty King they view
The tender Father too,
Joy in thy love and trust thy faithful care.
Thus some bright Cherub stands before thy shrine,
Fearless his Maker's awful form surveys,
Securely sees his dreadful glories shine,
And in his lightning's livid flashes plays.
Praise to God, immortal praise,】
For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous source of ev'ry joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employ;
For the blessings of the field,
For the stores the gardens yield,
For the vine's exalted juice,
For the gen'rous olive's use.
Flocks that whiten all the plain,
Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grain,
Clouds that drop their fatt'ning dews,
Suns that temp'rate warmth diffuse :
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