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And chas'd them up to heaven. Their alhes New
-No marble tells us whither. With their names
No bard embalms and fan&ifies his song ;
And History, so warm on meaner themes,,
Is cold on this. She execrates indeed
The tyranny that doom'd them to the fire,
But gives the glorious suff'ser's little praise, *
He is the freeman whom the truth makes free,
And all are sláves befide. There's not a chain
That hellish foes,.confed rate for his harm;
Can wind around him, but he casts it off
With as much ease as Samson his green wyths.
He looks abroad into the varied field
Of Nature, and though poor perhaps, compar'da
With those whose mansions glitter in his sight,
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 heav'n an unpresumptuous eye, -
And smiling fay--my Father made them alli
Are they not his by a peculiar right, ..
so . т н Е тА :к, . Воох
And by an emphasis of int'rest his,
Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy,
Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind
With worthy thoughts of that unwearied loves
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 soil, and ye may waste much good
In senseless riot ; but ye will not find
In feast or in the chace, in song or dance,
A liberty like his, who unimpeachd
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 less :
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' oppressor holds
His body bound, but knows not what a range.
His spirit takes, unconscious of a chain ; . .
And that to bind him is a vain attempt
Whom God delights in, and in whom he dwells,
Acquaint thyself with God, if thou would'It
His works. Admitted once to his embrace,
Thou shalt perceive that thou wası blind before :
Thine eye shall be inftru&ed, and thine heart,
Made pure, shall 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 scanty herb
It yields them, or recumbent on its brow,
Ruminate heedless of the scene 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 praise,
But not its author. Unconcern'd who form'd
The paradise he sees, he finds it such,
And such well-pleas’d to find it, afks no more. I
Not so the mind that has been touch'd from heav'n,
And in the school of sacred wisdom taught
To read his wonders, in whole thought the world, Fair as it is, existed 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 carth's acknowledg'd fov'reign, finds at once Its only just proprietor in Him. . . The soul that sees him, or receives fublim'dNew faculties, or learns at leaf temploy More worthily the pow'rs fhe own'd before ;... Discerns in all things, what with ftupid gaze Of ignorance till then she 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 infe&t's wing, :. And wheels his throne upon the rolling worlds. Much conversant with heav'n, The often holds With those fair ministers of light to man, i.. That fills the skies nightly with filent pomp, . . Sweet conference. Enquires what strains 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 sons of God.
THE WINTER'MOR NING WALK, 183 Shouted for joy.-- Tell me, ye fhining hofts, “ That navigate a sea that knows no ftorms, “ Beneath a vault unfollicd with a cloud, « If from your elevation, whence ye view « Diftin&ly, scenes invisible to man, " And fyftems of whose birth no tidings yet “ Have reach'd this nether world, ye spy a race “ Favor'd as our's, transgressors from the womb, " And hafting 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 shores “ Pants to return, and when he fees afar " His country's weather-bleach'd and batter'de - " 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 abyfs, “ Ordain'd to guide th' embodied fpirit home, " From toilsome life to never-ending reft. .. ".Love kindles as I gaze. I feel desires “. That give assurance of their own fuccess, “. And that infus'd from heav'n must thither tend.”
So reads he nature whom the lamp of truth . Illaminates. Thy lamp, mysterious word !