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Old Boreas with his freezing pow'rs
And chains them moveless to their shores;
Fly to the polar world, my song,
Seiz'd and bound in rigid chains,
Atheist, forbear! no more blaspheme :
A thousand armies at command,
Waiting the signal of his hand,
Dress thee in steel to meet his wrath ;
His sharp artillery from the north [frame. Shall pierce thee to the soul, and shake thy mortal
Sublime on Winter's rugged wings
He rides in arms along the sky,
And flocks and herds, and nations die ;
While impious lips, profanely bold,
Give their own blasphemies the lie.
The mischiefs that infest the earth,
Drought and disease, and cruel dearth,
From the incens'd Divinity.
In vain our parching palates thirst,
And pant for vital breath ;
And all the air is death :
You deal your various plagues abroad.
Hail? whirlwinds, hurricanes, and floods,
And bear down with a mighty sweep
Storms, that ravage o’er the deep, And bury millions in the waves;
Earthquakes, that in midnight sleep. Turn cities into heaps, and make our beds our graves;
While you dispense your mortal harms, 'Tis the Creator's voice that sounds your loud alarms, When guilt with louder cries provokes a God to
O for a message from above
To bear my spirits up!
Let waves and thunders mix and roar,
While thou art Sovereign, I'm secure :
1 shall be rich till thou art poor ; For all I fear, and all I wish, Heaven, earth, and
hell, are thine.
EARTH AND HEAVEN.
Hast thou not seen, impatient boy,
On every mortal joy ;
The thirsty boy repeats the taste ;
(Earth has no unpolluted spring) From the curs’d soil some dangerous taint they bear; So roses grow on thorns, and honey wears a sting,
In vain we seek a Heaven below the sky;
The world has false, but flattering charms :
And when we grasp the airy forms
Earth with her scenes of gay delight
Is but a landscape rudely drawn,
For fools to gaze upon;
Look up, my soul, pant tow’rd the eternal hills;
Those heavens are fairer than they seem ; There pleasures, all sincere, glide on in crystal
There not a dreg of guilt defiles, [rills,
Nor grief disturbs the stream. That Canaan knows no noxious thing, No cursed soil, no tainted spring, Nor roses grow on thorns, nor honey wears a sting.
No, 'tis in vain too seek for bliss;
For bliss can ne'er be found, Till we arrive where Jesus is,
And tread on heavenly ground.
There's nothing round these painted skies,
Or round this dusty clod;
Or lovely as thy God.
'Tis Heaven on earth to taste his love,
To feel his quickening grace; And all the Heaven I hope above,
Is but to see his face.
Why move my years in slow delay?
O God of ages! why?
To the superior sky.
Dear Sovereign, break these vital strings
That bind me to my clay ; Take me, Uriel, on thy wings,
And stretch and soar away.
Ir grieves me, Lord, it grieves me sore,
My inward powers shall burn and flame
With zeal and passion for thy name, I would not speak, but for my God, nor move, but
to his praise.
What are my eyes, but aids to see
Inscrib'd with beams of light,
The shining azure, green and gold; (my sight. But when I try to read thy name, a dimness veils
Mine ears are rais'd when Virgil sings
And drink the music in :
[begin? And yet my heart so stupid lie, when sacred hymns
Change me, O God; my flesh shall be