The cross so strong a red, it sheds a stain
Where'er it floats, on earth, in air, or main;
Flushes the hill, and sets on fire the wood,
And turus the deep-dy'd ocean into blood.

Oh formidable GLORY! dreadful bright!
Refulgent torture to the guilty sight.
Ah turn, unwary Muse, nor dare reveal
What horrid thoughts with the polluted dwell.
Say not (to make the Sun shrink in his beam),
Dare not affirm, they wish it all a dream;
Wish, or their souls may with their limbs decay,
Or Gon be spoil'd of his eternal sway.
But rather, if thou know'st the means, unfold
How they with transport might the scene behold.
Ah! how but by repentance, by a mind
Quick, and severe its own offence to find?
By tears, and groans, and never-ceasing care,
And all the pious violence of prayer?
Thus then, with fervency till now unknown,
I cast my heart before th' eternal throne,
In this great temple, which the skies surround,
For homage to its Lord, a narrow bound.

"O Thou! whose balance does the mountains
weigh,

Whose will the wild tumultuous seas obey,
Whose breath can turn those watry worlds to flame,
That flame to tempest, and that tempest tame;
Earth's meanest son, all trembling, prostrate
"falls,

And on the boundless of thy goodness calls.

Oh! give the winds all past offence to sweep,
To scatter wide, or bury in the deep:
Thy power, my weakness, may I ever see,
And wholly dedicate my soul to thee:
Reign o'er my will; my passions ebb and flow
At thy command, nor human motive know!

If anger boil, let anger be my praise,
And sin the graceful indignation raise;
My love be warm to succour the distress'd,
And lift the burthen from the soul oppress'd.
Oh may my understanding ever read

This glorious volume, which thy wisdom made!
Who decks the maiden Spring with flowery pride?
Who calls forth Summer, like a sparkling bride?
Who joys the mother Autumn's bed to crown?
And bids old Winter lay her honours down?
Not the great Ottoman, or greater Czar,
Not Europe's arbitress of peace and war.
May sea and land, and Earth and Heaven be join'd,
To bring th' eternal Author to my mind!
When oceans roar, or awful thunders roll,
May thoughts of thy dread vengeance shake my
soul !

When Earth's in bloom, or planets proudly shine,
Adore, my heart, the MAJESTY Divine!

"Through every scene of life, or peace, or war, Plenty, or want, thy glory be my care! Shine we in arms? or sing beneath our vine? Thine is the vintage, and the conquest thine: Thy pleasure points the shaft, and bends the

Nor cease at eve, but with the setting Sun My endless worship shall be still begun.

And, oh! perinit the gloom of solemn night
To sacred thought may forcibly invite.
When this world's shut, and awful planets rise,
Call on our minds, and raise them to the skies;
Compose our souls with a less dazzling sight,
And show all Nature in a milder light;
How every boisterous thought in calms subsides!
How the smooth'd spirit into goodness glides!
O how divine! to tread the milky way,

To the bright palace of the Lord of day:
His court admire, or for his favour sue,
Or leagues of friendship with his saints renew;
Pleas'd to look down, and see the world asleep,
While I long vigils to its Founder keep!

"Canst thou not shake the centre? Oh control,
Subdue by force, the rebel in my soul:
Thou, who canst still the raging of the flood,
Restrain the various tumults of my blood;
Teach me, with equal firmness, to sustain
Alluring pleasure, and assaulting pain.
O may I pant for thee in each desire!
And with strong faith foment the holy fire!
Stretch out my soul in hope, and grasp the prize
Which in Eternity's deep bosom lies!
At the Great Day of recompense behold,
Devoid of fear, the fatal book unfold!
Then wafted upward to the blissful seat,
From age to age, my grateful song repeat;
My light, my life, my God, my Saviour see,
And rival angels in the praise of THEE.

BOOK III.

Esse quoque in fatis reminiscitur, affore tempus, Quo mare, quo tellus, correptaque regia cœli Ardeat; et mundi moles operosa laboret.

OVID. MET.

THE book unfolding; the resplendent seat
Of saints and angels; the tremendous fate
Of guilty souls; the gloomy realms of woe;
And all the horrours of the world below;
I next presume to sing: what yet remains
Demands my last, but most exalted strains.
And let the Muse or now affect the sky,
Or in inglorious shades for ever lie.
She kindles, she's inflam'd so near the goal;
She mounts, she gains upon the starry pole;
The world grows less as she pursues her flight,
And the Sun darkens to her distant sight.
Heaven opening, all its sacred pomp displays,
And overwhelms her with the rushing blaze!
The triumph rings! archangels shout around!
And echoing Nature lengthens out the sound!

Ten thousand trumpets now at once advance;
Now deepest silence lulls the vast expanse :
So deep the silence, and so strong the blast,
As Nature died, when she had groan'd her last.
Nor man, nor angel, moves; the Judge on high
Looks round, and with his glory fills the sky:
Then on the fatal book his hand he lays,
Which high to view supporting seraphs raise;
In solemn form the rituals are prepar'd,
The seal is broken, and a groan is heard,

And thou, my soul, (oh fall to sudden prayer,
And let the thought sink deep!) shalt thou be there?
See on the left (for by the great command
The throng divided falls on either hand;)
How weak, how pale, how haggard, how obscene,
What more than death in every face and mien !
With what distress, and glarings of afiright,
They shock the heart, and turn away the sight!
In gloomy orbs their trembling eye-balls roll,
And tell the horrid secrets of the soul.

Each gesture mourns, each look is black with care,
And every groan is loaden with despair.
Reader, if guilty, spare the Muse, and find
A truer image pictur'd in thy mind.

Shouldst thou behold thy brother, father, wife,
And all the soft companions of thy life,
Whose blended interests level at one aim,
Whose mix'd desires sent up one common flame,
Divided far; thy wrecthed self alone

Cast on the left, of all whom thou hast known; How would it wound! What millions wouldst thou give

For one more trial, one more day to live!

Flung back in time an hour, a moment's space,
To grasp with eagerness the means of grace;
Contend for mercy with a pious rage,
And in that moment to redeem an age?
Drive back the tide, suspend a storm of air,
Arrest the Sun; but still of this despair.

Mark, on the right, how amiable a grace!
Their Maker's image fresh in every face!
What purple bloom my ravish'd soul admires,
And their eyes sparkling with immortal fires!
Triumphant beauty! charins that rise above
This world, and in blest angels kindle love!
To the Great Judge with holy pride they turn,
And dare behold th' Almighty's anger burn;
Its flash sustain, against its terrour rise,
And on the dread tribunal fix their eyes.

Are these the forms that moulder'd in the dust?
Oh the transcendent glory of the just!
Yet still some thin remains of fear and doubt
Th' infected brightness of their joy pollute.
Thus the chaste bridegroom, when the priest
draws nigh,

Beholds his blessing with a trembling eye,
Feels doubtful passions throb in every vein,
And in his cheeks are mingled joy and pain,
Lest still some intervening chance should rise,
Leap forth at once, and snatch the golden prize;
Inflame his woe, by bringing it so late,
And stab him in the crisis of his fate.

Since Adam's family, from first to last,
Now into one distinct survey is cast;
Look round, vain-glorious Muse, and you whoe'er
Devote yourselves to fame, and think her fair;
Look round, and seek the lights of human race,
Whose shining acts Time's brightest annals grace;
Who founded sects; crowns conquer'd, or resign'd;
Gave names to nations; or fam'd empires join'd;
Who rais'd the vale, and laid the mountain low;
And taught obedient rivers where to flow;
Who with vast fleets, as with a mighty chain,
Could bind the madness of the roaring main:
All lost? all undistinguish'd? no-where found?
How will this truth in Bourbon's palace sound?
That hour, on which th' Almighty King on high
From all eternity has fix'd his eye,

Whether his right-hand favour'd, or annoy'd,
Continued, alter'd, threaten'd, or destroy'd ;

Southern or eastern sceptre downward hurl'd, Gave north or west domininon o'er the world; The point of time, for which the world was built, For which the blood of God himself was spilt, That dreadful moment is arriv'd

Aloft, the seats of bliss their pomp display
Brighter than brightness, this distinguish day;
Less glorious, when of old th' eternal Son
From realms of night return'd with trophies won;
Through Heaven's high gates, when he triumphant
rode,

And shouting angels hail'd the victor God.
Horrours, beneath, darkness in darkness, Hell
Of Hell, where torments behind torments dwell;
A furnace formidable, deep, and wide,
O'er-boiling with a mad sulphureous tide,
Expands its jaws, most dreadful to survey,
And roars outrageous for the destin'd prey.
The sons of light scarce unappall'd look down,
And nearer press Heaven's everlasting throne.

;

Such is the scene; and one short moment's space Concludes the hopes and fears of human race. Proceed who dares!--I tremble as I write ; The whole creation swims before my sight: I see, I see, the Judge's frowning brow Say not, 't is distant; I behold it now; I faint, my tardy blood forgets to flow, My soul recoils at the stupendous woe; That woe, those pangs, which from the guilty breast, In these, or words like these, shall be exprest :"Who burst the barriers of my peaceful grave? Ah! cruel Death, that would no longer save, But grudg'd me e'en that narrow dark abode, And cast me out into the wrath of God; Where shrieks, the roaring flame, the rattling. chain,

And all the dreadful eloquence of pain,

Our only song; black fire's malignant light,
The sole refreshment of the blasted sight.

Must all those powers Heaven gave me to supply
My soul with pleasure, and bring-in my joy,
Rise up in arms against me, join the foe,
Sense, reason, memory, increase my woe?
And shall my voice, ordain'd on hymns to dwell,
Corrupt to groans, and blow the fires of Hell?
Oh! must I look with terrour on my gain,
And with existence only measure pain?
What! no reprieve, no least indulgence given,
No beam of hope, from any point of Heaven!
Ah Mercy! Mercy! art thou dead above?
Is Love extinguish'd in the Source of Love?
"Bold that I am, did Heaven stoop down to
Hell?

Th' expiring Lord of life ny ransom seal?
Have I not been industrious to provoke ?
From his embraces obstinately broke?
Pursued, and panted for his mortal hate,
Farn'd my destruction, labour'd out my fate?
And dare I on extinguish'd Love exclaim?
Take, take full vengeance, rouse the slackening

flame;

Just is my lot-but oh! must it transcend
The reach of time, despair a distant end?
With dreadful growth shoot forward, and arise,
Where thought can't follow, and bold fancy dies!
"NEVER! where falls the soul at that dread

sound!

Down an abyss how dark, and how profound! Down, down, (I still am falling, horrid pain!) Ten thousand thousand fathoms still remain;

My plunge but still begun-And this for sin !
Could I offend, if I had never been,
But still increas'd the senseless happy mass,
Flow'd in the stream, or shiver'd in the grass?
"Father of mercies! why from silent earth
Didst thou awake, and curse me into birth,
Tear me from quiet, ravish me from night,
And make a thankless present of thy light?
Push into being a reverse of thee,
And animate a clod with misery?

"The beasts are happy; they come forth, and keep
Short watch on Earth, and then lie down to sleep.
Pain is for man; and oh! how vast a pain
For crimes, which made the Godhead bleed in vain!
Annull'd his groans, as far as in them lay,
And flung his agonies, and death, away!
As our dire punishment for ever strong,
Our constitution too for ever young.
Curs'd with returns of vigour, still the same
Powerful to bear, and satisfy the flame:
Still to be caught, and still to be pursued!
To perish still, and still to be renew'd !

"And this, my Help! my God! at thy decree ? Nature is chang'd, and Heil should succour me. And canst thou then look down from perfect bliss, And see me plunging in the dark abyss ? Calling thee Father, in a sea of fire? Or pouring blasphemies at thy desire? With mortals' auguish wilt thou raise thy name, And by my pangs omnipotence proclaim?

"Thou, who canst toss the planets to and fro, Contract not thy great vengeance to my woe; Crush worlds; in hotter flames fall'n angels lay; On me Almighty wrath is cast away.

Call back thy thunders, Lord, hold-in thy rage,
Nor with a speck of wretchedness engage :
Forget me quite, nor stoop a worm to blame;
But lose me in the greatness of thy name.
Thou art all love, all mercy, all divine,
And shall I make those glories cease to shine?
Shall sinful man grow great by his offence,
And from its course turn back Omnipotence?
"Forbid it! and oh! grant, Great God, at least
This one, this slender, almost no request;
When I have wept a thousand lives away,
When Torment is grown weary of its prey,
When I have rav'd ten thousand years in fire,
Ten thousand thousand, let me then expire."
Deep anguish! but too late; the hopeless soul
Bound to the bottom of the burning pool,
Though loth, and ever loud blaspheming, owns
He's justly doom'd to pour eternal groans;
Enclos'd with horrours, and transfix'd with pain,
Rolling in vengeance, struggling with his chain:
To talk to fiery tempests; to implore
The raging flame to give its burnings o'er;
To toss, to writhe, to pant beneath his load,
And bear the weight of an offended Gov.

The favour'd of their Judge in triumph move,
To take possession of their thrones above;
Satan's accurs'd desertion to supply,
And fill the vacant stations of the sky;
Again to kindle long-extinguish'd rays,
And with new lights dilate the heavenly blaze;
To crop the roses of immortal youth,
And drink the fountain-head of sacred truth;
To swim in seas of bliss, to strike the string,
And lift the voice to their Almighty KING;
To lose eternity in grateful lays,

And fill Heaven's wide circumference with praise,

But I attempt the wondrous height in vain,
And leave unfinish'd the too lofty strain:
What boldly I begin, let others end;
My strength exhausted, fainting I descend,
Aud choose a less, but no ignoble theme,
Dissolving elements, and worlds, in flame.

The fatal period, the great hour, is come,
And Nature shrinks at her approaching doom;
Loud peals of thunder give the sign, and all
Heaven's terrours in array surround the ball;

| Sharp lightnings with the meteor's blaze conspire,
And, darted downward, set the world on fire;
Black rising clouds the thicken'd ether choke,
And spiry flames dart through the rolling smoke,
With keen vibrations cut the sullen night,
And strike the darken'd sky with dreadful light;
From Heaven's four regions, with immortal force,
Angels drive on the wind's impetuous course,
T'enrage the flame: It spreads, it soars on high,
Swells in the storm, and billows through the sky :
Here winding pyramids of fire ascend,
Cities and deserts in one ruin blend;
Here blazing volumes wafted, overwhelm
The spacious face of a far distant realm;
There, undermin'd, down rush eternal hills,
The neighbouring vales the vast destruction fills.
Hear'st thou that dreadful crack? that sound which
broke

Like peals of thunder, and the centre shook ?
What wonders must that groan of Nature tell!
Olympus there, and mightier Atlas, fell;
Which seem'd above the reach of Fate to stand,
A towering monument of God's right hand;
Now dust and smoke, whose brow, so lately, spread
O'er shelter'd countries its diffusive shade.

Show me that celebrated spot, where all
The various rulers of the sever'd ball

Have humbly sought wealth, honour, and re

dress,

That land which Heaven seem'd diligent to bless,
Once call'd Britannia. Can her glories end?
And can't surrounding seas her realms defend?
Alas! in flames behold surrounding seas!
Like oil, their waters but augment the blaze.

Some angel, say where ran proud Asia's bound ? Or where with fruits was fair Europa crown'd? Where stretch'd waste Libya? Where did India's

store

Sparkle in diamonds, and her golden ore?
Each lost in each, their mingling kingdoms glow,
And all dissolv'd, one fiery deluge flow:
Thus Earth's contending monarchies are join'd,
And a full period of ambition find.

And now whate'er or swims, or walks, or flies,
Inhabitants of sea, or earth, or skies;
All on whom Adam's wisdom fix'd a name,
All plunge, and perish in the conquering flame.
This globe alone would but defraud the fire,
Starve its devouring rage: the flakes aspire,
And catch the clouds, and make the Heavens their