With those whofe manfions glitter in his fight, Calls the delightful fcen'ry all his own. His are the mountains, and the vallies his, And the refplendent rivers. His t' enjoy With a propriety that none can feel, But who, with filial confidence infpir'd, Can lift to heav'n an unprefumptuous eye, And fmiling fay-my Father made them all. Are they not his by a peculiar right, And by an emphasis of int'reft his
Whofe eye they fill with tears of holy joy, Whofe heart with praise, and whofe 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? Yes-ye may fill your garners, ye that reap The loaded foil, and ye may waste much good In fenfelefs riot.; but ye will not find In feaft or in the chace, in fong or dance, A liberty like his, who unimpeach'd Of ufurpation, 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 fea
With all his roaring multitude of waves.
His freedom is the fame in every state,
And no condition of this changeful life, So manifold in cares, whofe ev'ry day
Brings its own evil with it, makes it lefs f. 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 attempt
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 fhall be inftructed, and thine heart, Made pure, fhall relish, with divine delight "Till then unfelt, what hands divine have wrought. Brutes graze the mountain-top, with faces prone And eyes intent upon the fcanty herb.
It yields them, or recumbent on its brow, Ruminate heedlefs of the fcene outspread Beneath, beyond, and stretching far away From inland regions to the diftant main. Man views it and admires, but rests content With what he views. The landscape has his
Unconcern'd who form'd
The paradife he fees, he finds it fuch,
And fuch well-pleas'd to find it, asks no more.
Not fo the mind that has been touch'd from
And in the fchool of facred wisdom taught To read his wonders, in whose thought the world,
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 refulting as it ought
To earth's acknowledg'd fov'reign, finds at once Its only juft proprietor in Him.
The foul that fees him, or receives fublim'd New faculties, or learns at least t'employ More worthily the pow'rs fhe own'd before; Difcerns in all things, what with ftupid gaze Of ignorance till then fhe 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 luftre to an infect's wing, And wheels his throne upon the rolling worlds, Much converfant with heav'n, fhe often holds With those fair minifters of light to man,
That fills the skies nightly with filent pomp,
Sweet conference. Enquires what ftrains were
With which heav'n rang, when ev'ry star, in haste 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 fea that knows no storms, • Beneath a vault unfullied with a cloud, If from your elevation, whence ye view Diftinctly, scenes invifible to man,
And fyftems 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 rife, And to poffefs a brighter heav'n than
yours ? As one who long detain'd on foreign shores • Pants to return, and when he fees afar
• His country's weather-bleach'd and batter'd
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 with, your beamy fires, • That fhew like beacons in the blue abyss, • Ordain'd to guide th' embodied spirit home, From toilfome life to never-ending reft. Love kindles as I gaze. I feel defires
"That give affurance of their own fuccefs, "And that infus'd from heav'n muft thither tend.' So reads he nature whom the lamp of truth Illuminates. Thy lamp, myfterious word! Which whofo 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 hadst thou in strength Been lefs, or lefs benevolent than strong. They are thy witneffes, 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 thyfelf. Their's is indeed A teaching voice; but 'tis the praife of thine That whom it teaches it makes prompt to learn, And with the boon gives talents for its use. Till thou art heard, imaginations vain Poffefs the heart, and fables falfe as hell; Yet deem'd oracular, lure down to earth The uninform'd and heedlefs fouls of men.
We give to chance, blind chance, ourselves as blind,
The glory of thy work, which yet appears Perfect and unimpeachable of blame, Challenging human fcrutiny, and prov'd Then skilful most when most severely judg'd.
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