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With those whofe mansions glitter in his fight,
Calls the delightful scen'ry all his own.
His are the mountains, and the vallies his,
And the resplendent rivers. ' His t' enjoy
With a propriety that none can feel,
But who, with filial confidence inspir'd,
Can lift to hear'n an unpresumptuous eye,
And smiling fay-my Father made them all.
Are they not his by a peculiar right,
And by an emphasis of int'rest his
Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy,
Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted

With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love
That plann'd, and built, and still upholds a world
So cloath'd with beauty, for 'rebellious man?. ,
Yesye may fill your garners, ye that reap
The loaded soil, and ye may waste much good
In senseless riot.; but will not find
In feast or in the chace, in song or dance,
A liberty like his, who unimpeach'd
Of usurpation, and to no man's wrong,
Appropriates nature as his father's work,
And has a richer use of yours, than you.
He is indeed a freeman. Free by birth
Of no-mean city, plann’d or ere the hills
Were built, the fountains open'd, or the sea
With all his roaring multitude of waves.



His freedom is the same in every state,
And no condition of this changeful life,
So manifold in cares, whose ev'ry day
Brings its own evil with it, makes it lefs : line
For he has wings that neither fickness, pain,
Nor penury, can cripple or confine.
No nook so narrow but he spreads them there
With ease, and is at large. Th’ oppreffor holds
His body bound, but knows not what a range
His spirit takes, unconscious of a chain;
And that to bind him is á vain attenipt
Whom God delights in, and in whom he dwells :
Acquaint thyself with God, if 'thou would'st

His works. Admitted once to his embrace,
Thou shalt perceive that thou waft blind before:
Thine eye shall be instructed, and thine heart,
Made pure, shall relifh, with divine delight
'Till then unfelt, what hands divine have wrought.
Brutes graze the mountain-top, with faces prone
And eyes intent upon the scanty herb
It yields them, or recumbent on its brow,
Ruminate heedlefs of the scené outspread
Beneath, beyond, and stretching far away
From inland regions to the distant main.
Man views it and admires, but rests content
With what he views. The landscape has his


But not its author. Unconcern'd who form'd
The paradise he fees, he finds it such,
And fuch well-pleas'd to find it, asks no more.
Not so the mind that has been touch'd from

And in the school of sacred wisdom taught
To read his wonders, in whose thought the

Fair as it is, exifted ere it was.
Not for its own fake merely, but for his
Much more who fashion'd it, he gives it praise ;
Praise that from earth resulting as it ought
To earth's acknowledg’d fov'reign, finds at once
Its only just proprietor in Him.
The foul that sees him, or receives sublim'd
New faculties, or learns at least temploy
More worthily the pow'rs she own'd before ;
Difcerns in all things, what with stupid gaze
Of ignorance till then the overlook'd,
A ray of heav'nly light gilding all forms
Terrestrial in the vast and the minute,
The unambiguous footsteps of the God
Who gives its lustre to an insect's wing,
And wheels his throne upon the rolling worlds,
Much conversant with heav'n, she often holds
With those fair ministers of light to man,
That fills the skies nightly with silent pomp,




Sweet conference. Enquires what strains were

they With which heav'n rang, when ev'ry star, in hafte To gratulate the new-created earth, Sent forth a voice, and all the fons of God Shouted for joy.- Tell me, ye shining hosts, • That navigate a sea that knows no storms, « Beneath a vault unsullied with a cloud,

If from your elevation, whence ye view • Distinctly, scenes invisible to man, <And systems of whofe birth no tidings yet « Have reach'd this nether world, ye spy a race • Favour'd as our's, tranfgreffors from the womb • And hasting to a grave, yet doom'd to rise,

And to possess a brighter heav'n than yours?

As one who long detain'd on foreign fhores « Pants to return, and when he fees afar • His country's weather-bleach'd and batter'd

4 rocks, - From the green wave emerging, darts an eye • Radiant with joy towards the happy land; «So I with animated hopes behold, « And many an aching wish, your beamy fires, « That shew like beacons in the blue abyss, « Ordain'd to guide th' embodied spirit home, « From toilsome life to never-ending rest. • Love kindles as I gaze. I feel desires


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'. That give assurance of their own success, is And that infus'd from heav'n must thither tend.'

So reads he nature whom the lamp of truth
Illuminates. Thy lamp, mysterious word!
Which whoso fees, no longer wanders loft,
With intellects bemaz'd in endless doubt,
But runs the road of wisdom. Thou haft built,
With means that were not till by thee employ'd,
Worlds that had never been hadft thou in strength
Been less, or less benevolent than strong.
They are thy witnesses, who speak thy pow'r
And goodness infinite, but speak in ears
That hear not, or receive not their report.
In vain thy creatures testify of thee
'Till thou proclaim thyself. Their's is indeed
A teaching voice; but 'tis the praise of thine
That whom it teaches it nakes prompt to learn,
And with the boon gives talents for its use.
Till thou art heard, imaginations vain
Possess the heart, and fables false as hell;
Yet deem'd oracular, lure down to earth
The uninform'd and heedless souls of men.
We give to chance, blind chance, ourselves as

The glory of thy work, which yet appears
Perfect and unimpeachable of blame,
Challenging luman fcrutiny, and prov'd
Then skilful most when most severely judg’d.


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