Stop, (faid a fifth), thefe notes forbear, "Lo! I'm the greatest wonder here; "For I of all the race that fell, "Deferv'd the lowest place in hell. A foul that higher yet afpir'd, With equal love to Jefus fir'd, "Tis mine to fing the highest notes "To love, that wash'd the fouleft blots." "Ho! (cry'd a mate), 'tis mine I'll prove, "Who finn'd in fpite of light and love, "To found his praise with loudest bell, "That fav'd me from the lowest hell. "Come, come, (faid one), I'll hold the plea "That highest praife is due by me; "For mine, of all the fav'd by grace, "Was the most dreadful, defp'rate cafe." Another rifing at his fide,

As fond to praife, and free of pride,

Cry'd, "Pray give place, for I defy

"That you fhould owe more praise than I: "I'll yield to none in this debate; "I'm run fo deep in grace's debt, "That fure I am, I boldly can

Compare with all the heav'nly clan." Quick o'er their head a trump awoke, "Your fongs my very heart have spoke ; "But ev'ry note you here propall, "Belongs to me beyond you all.” The lift'ning millions round about With fweet refentment loudly fhout; "What voice is this, comparing notes, "That to their fong chief place allots? "We can't allow of fuch a found, "That you alone have highest ground "To fing the royalties of grace; "We claim the fame adoring place." What! will no rival-finger yield He has a match upon the field? "Come then, and let us all agree To praise upon the highest key."

Then jointly all the harpers round
In mind unite, with folemn found,
And firoaks upon the highest firing,
Made all the heav'nly arches ring:
Ring loud with Hallelujah's high,
To him that fent his Son to die;
And to the worthy Lamb of God,
That lov'd and wafh'd them in his blood:
Free grace was fov'reign empress crown'd
In pomp, with joyous fhout around:
Affifting angels clapp'd their wings,
And founding grace on all their ftrings.
The emulation round the throne
Made proftrate hofts (who ev'ry one.
The humbleft place their right avow)
Strive who fhall give the lowest bow.
The next contention without vice
Among the birds of paradife,

Made ev'ry glorious warbling throat
Strive who fhould raise the highest note.

Thus in fweet holy humble ftrife,
Along their endlefs, joyful life,
Of Jefus all the harpers rove,
And fing the wonders of his love.
Their difcord makes them all unite
In raptures moft divinely fweet;
So great the fong, fo grave the base,
Melodious mufic fills the place.

SECT. II.

Earth defpicable, Heaven defirable.

HERE's nothing round the fpacious earth

TH

To fuit my vast desires;

To more refin'd and folid mirth

My boundless thought aspires.

Fain would I leave this mournful place,
This mufic dull, where none

But heavy notes have any grace,
And mirth accents the moan:
+ U

Where troubles tread upon reliefs,

New woes with older blend;

Where rolling ftorms and circling griefs
Run round without an end:

Where waters wrestling with the ftones,
Do fight themselves to foam,

And hollow clouds, with thund'ring groans,
Difcharge their pregnant womb:

Where eagles mounting meet with rubs
That dash them from the fky;
And cedars, fhrinking into shrubs,
In ruin proft'rate lie:

Where fin the author of turmoils,
The caufe of death and hell;
The one thing foul that all things foils,
Does moft befriended dwell.
The purchaser of night and woe,
The forfeiter of day,

The debt that ev'ry man did owe,
But only God could pay.
Bewitching ill, indors'd with hope,
Subfcribed with despair:
Ugly in death when eyes are ope,
Though life may paint it fair.
Small wonder that I droop alone
In fuch a doleful place;

When lo! my dearest friend is gone,
My Father hides his face.

And though in words I feem to fhow
The fawning poets style,

Yet is my plaint no feigned woe;
I languish in exile.

I long to fhare the happiness

Of that triumphant throne,

That fwim in feas of boundless blifs

Eternity along.

When but in drops here by the way

I

Free love diftils itself,

pour contempt on hills of prey,
And heaps of worldly pelf.

To be amidst my little joys,

Thrones, fceptres, crowns, and kings, Are nothing else but little toys,

"

And defpicable things.

Down with difdain earth's pomp I thruft,

Bid tempting wealth away; Heav'n is not made of yellow duft,

Nor blifs of glitt'ring clay.

Sweet was the hour I freedom felt
To call my Jefus mine;

To fee his fmiling face, and melt
In pleasures all divine.

Let fools an heav'n of fhades purfue,

But I for fubftance am:

The heav'n I feek is likeness to,
And vifion of the Lamb:

The worthy Lamb with glory crown'd
In his auguft abode;

Inthron'd fublime, and deck'd around
With all the pomp of God.

I long to join the faints above,

Who crown'd with glorious bays,
Through radiant files of angels move,
And rival them in praise :

In praise to JAH, the God of love,
The fair incarnate Son,

The holy co-eternal Dove,

The good, the great Three-one.

In hope to fing without a fob
The anthem ever new,

I gladly bid the dusty glob,

And vain delights, Adieu.

The END of the GOSPEL SONNETS.

The following POEM, the fecond Part of which, was wrote by Mr. ERSKINE, is here inferted, to fill up this Page, as a proper Subject of Meditation to Smokers of Tobacco.

Smoking Spiritualized,

IN TWO PARTS.

The first Part being an old MEDITATION upon Smoking Tobacco; the fecond, a new Addition to it, or Improvement of it.