'Tis resignation's full reverse, Most wrong, as it implies Errour most fatal in our choice, Detachment from the skies. By closing with the skies, we make We scarce believe ourselves below! The Lord, the soul, and source of all, Whilst man enjoys his ease, Is executing human will, In earth, and air, and seas; This, the sublime of man! "All, that the Sun surveys, subdued, How grand! most true; yet far beneath To more than kingdoms, more than worlds, Its matchless empire could have kept Great Cato's pride in awe; Transfix'd his noble breast; Had left to Heaven the rest; It wonders can perform ; That powerful charm, "Thy will be done," Come, Resignation! then, from fields, Who is it calls thee? one whose need In front he stands, the brink he treads Of an eternal state; How dreadful his appointed post! His threatening foe! what shadows deep Haste, then, O Resignation! haste, My foe, and me; at thy approach, O! for that summit of my wish, A glorious smile in death: What sight, Heaven's azure arch beneath, At Death's arrival they shall smile, Serious and frequent thought send out My gay coevals! (such there are) The fear of death is truly wise, Till wisdom can rise higher; And, arm'd with pious fortitude, Death dreaded once, desire: Grand climacteric vanities The vainest will despise; Shock'd, when beneath the snow of age But am not I myself the man? What cause to blush at home? In life's decline, when men relapse His trembling voice attempt to sing, My fault who, partly, shares, What more becomes our years; You will not disapprove a just In youth, Voltaire! our foibles plead When heads are white, their thoughts and aims How are you cheated by your wit! By Nature's law, a mind discreet, A mighty change is wrought by years, In age 'tis honour to lie hid, 'Tis praise to be forgot; The wise, as flowers, which spread at noon, When evening damps and shades descend, What though your Muse has nobly sear'd, Is that our true sublime? Ours, hoary friend! is to prefer Why close a life so justly fam'd With such bold trash as this 6? This for renown? yes, such as makes Obscurity a bliss: Your trash, with mine, at open war, Is obstinately bent 7, Like wits below, to sow your tares Why dash with pain our pleasure? why Your Helicon with Styx? Your works in our divided minds Repugnant passions raise, From a black bag of poison spun, Mean as it is, if this is read Nor would deplore his fate; To perish by your parts: "But great your name"-To feed on air, Can fame your carcase from the worm But fame you lose; good sense alone Nor boast your genius, talents bright; If in your western beams is miss'd Your taste too fails; what most excels Sound heads salvation's helmet seek 8, 6 Candide. 7 Second Part. * Ephes. vi. 17. May this enable couch'd Voltaire If so, all's well: who much have err'd, I speak with joy, with joy he'll hear, Its marvellous of love extends Or dwell on their distress; The God as present, by plain steps I behold passing through my life; But where the trees, or where the clouds, Naked the centre to that eye, To which the Sun is night. As yonder glittering lamps on high My soul, which reads his hand as clear As in his ample manuscript Of Sun, and Moon, and stars; A world, that shall survive the fall Yon matter gross, how bright it shines! Sure spirit and eternity Far risher glories share; Let those our hearts impress, on those On those my thoughts how justly thrown, When backward with attentive mind I find him far myself beyond Through all the crooked paths I trod, Due resignation home to press Which his romance ridicules. How many foes in ambush laid So little mortals know!) I rarely plann'd, but cause I found It turn'd to my success. And is not this the gloomy path, Which you are treading now? He kindly cur'd with sovereign draughts Pain'd sense from fancy'd tyranny A thousand miseries we feel, Cloy'd with a glut of all we wish, Is ruin'd by success : Sometimes he led me near to death, To raise my thoughts beyond where worlds My soul's delight resign. We to ourselves, but through the means In this my fate can you descry And if you can, let that excuse A record, modesty forbids, Or to small bound confines: In grief why deep ingulf'd? You see When streams flow backward to their source, But human prudence too must cease, The pang most poignant of my life Now heightens my delight; I see a fair creation rise From chaos, and old night: From what seem'd horrour, and despair, The richest harvest rose; And gave me in the nod divine An absolute repose. Of all the plunders of mankind, But whither points all this parade? A book, perhaps, yet unperus'd, Self-knowledge, which from Heaven itself Would they consult their own contents, Enter your bosom; there you'll meet A revelation personal; Which none can read but you. A mighty Being! and in him A father, brother, spouse; no dread Who such a matchless friend embrace, My short advice to you may sound Though 't is the best that man can give,"E'en be content with God," Through love he gave you the deceas'd, Though murmur'd at by sense. This friend, far past the kindest kind, His eye, this instant, reads your heart; Dispute you this? O! stand in awe, And twice ten thousand hence, if you Your temper reconcile To reason's bound, will be behold Your guilt (for guilt it is to mourn Whence burst those dismal sighs? They from the throbbing breast of one (Strange truth!) most happy rise; Not angels (hear it, and exult!) Enjoy a larger share As all had been but one. And is he then so near! so kind!- That riddle, man! O! let me gaze His fate, who yesterday did crawl And shall, with brother-worms, beneath How mean! And yet, if well obey'd His mighty Master's call, Too small the whole creation deem'd The power, in exquisite extremes, Give him Earth's empire (if no more) He's beggar'd, and undone ! Imprison'd in unbounded space! Benighted by the Sun! For what the Sun's meridian blaze To the most feeble ray Which glimmers from the distant dawn 'Tis not the poet's rapture feign'd They warm e'en me.-I dare not say, Not to bless only, but confound, And yet so frightful what, or kind, As that the rending rock, And are we darker than that Sun? Than rocks more hard, and blind? In agonies resign'd. Yes, e'en in agonies forbear Is mercy from above; What most imbitters time, that most And thus, by plunging in distress, Joy's fountain head! where bliss o'er bliss, And an Omnipotence prepares Its banquet for the wise: Ambrosial banquet! rich in wines What transports sparkle from the stream, Fountain profuse of every bliss! Man's line can't fathom its profound; Thy love and might, by what they know, They ask a drop, how deep the sea! Of thy exuberant good-will, The thousandth part who comprehends, How yonder ample azure field With radiant worlds is sown! How tubes astonish us with those More deep in ether thrown! Nor thy indulgence less ; Since man, quite impotent and blind, Say, what is resignation? 'Tis Let rash repiners stand appall'd, For man to murmur, or repine At what by thee is done, No less absurd, than to complain Of darkness in the Sun. Who would not, with an heart at ease, Nay, peace beyond, no small degree What, though I'm swallow'd in the deep? Thy will is welcome, let it wear Its most tremendous form; Roar, waves; rage, winds! I know that thou Caust save me by a storm. Meandering streams below: Not less compell'd by reason's call, To thee our souls aspire, Than to thy skies, by Nature's law, To thee aspiring they exult, I feel myself thy son, and pant Since ardent thirst of future good, And generous sense of past, To thee man's prudence strongly ties, Since great thy love, and great our want, Resign'd through duty, interest, shame; When (wondrous truth!) in Heaven itself And pain for me! for me was drain'd And shall one drop to murmur bold Provoke my guilty soul? If pardon'd this, what cause, what crime Can indignation raise? The Sun was lighted up to shine, And man was born to praise; And when to praise the man shall cease, ▲ cloud dishonours both; but man's For oh! ingratitude how black! With most profound amaze At love, which man belov'd o'erlooks, Praise cheers, and warms, like generous wine; Prayer points our ready path to Heaven; Praise is already there. Let plausive resignation rise, And banish all complaint; All virtues thronging into one, It finishes the saint; Makes the man bless'd, as man can be ; Life's labours renders light; Darts beams through fate's incumbent gloom, 'Tis Nature's brightest ornament, Of rapture 't will impart ; Know, madam! when your heart 's in Heaven, "All Heaven is in your heart." But who to Heaven their hearts can raise ? Denied divine support, All virtue dies; support divine The wise with ardour court: When prayer partakes the seraph's fire, 'Tis mounted on his wing, Bursts through Heaven's crystal gates, and gains The labouring soul from sore distress I see you far advanc'd in peace; How on that posture has the beam An humble heart, God's other seat 10! And stoops Omnipotence so low! Well pleas'd, in such a cell? Let self-will die: resign. The dismal human groan: When Earth's dark maxims poison shed On our polluted souls, Our hearts and interests fly as far Asunder, as the poles; Like princes in a cottage nurs'd, Of moral powers possess'd, From thought whence we descend; From far above the glorious Sun To this dim scene we came : Let that bright beam on reason rous'd Earth's giant-ills are dwarf'd at once, And all disquiet dies. Earth's glories too their splendour lose, And Indian mines are poor: 10 Isaiah wii. 15. |