From tippling-benches, cellars, ftalls, and ftyes,
Swarm in the streets. The statesman of the day,
A pompous and flow-moving pageant comes.
Some fhout him, and fome hang upon his ear,
To gaze in's eyes, and blefs him. Maidens wave
Their 'kerchiefs, and old women weep for joy;
While others, not fo fatisfied, unhorfe
The gilded equipagé, and, turning loofe
His fteeds, ufurp a place they well deserve.
Why? what has charm'd them? Hath he fav'd
the state?

No. Doth he purpose its falvation? No.
Inchanting novelty, that moon at full,

That finds out ev'ry crevice of the head
That is not found and perfect, hath in theirs
Wrought this disturbance.' But the wane is near,
And his own cattle must fuffice him foon.
Thus idly do we waste the breath of praise,
And dedicate a tribute, in its ufe
And just direction, facred, to a thing
Doom'd to the duft, or lodg'd already there.
Encomium in old time was poet's work;
But poets having lavishly long fince
Exhausted all materials of the art,

The task now falls into the public hand;
And I, contented with an humble theme,

VOL: II.

L

Have

Have pour'd my ftream of panegyric down

The vale of nature, where it creeps and winds
Among her lovely works, with a secure
And unambitious course, reflecting.clear,
If not the virtues, yet the worth of brutes.
And I am recompens'd, and deem the toils
Of poetry not loft, if verse of mine
May stand between an animal and woe,
And teach one tyrant pity for his drudge.

The groans of nature in this nether world,
Which Heav'n has heard for ages, have an end.
Foretold by prophets, and by poets fung,
Whofe fire was kindled at the prophets' lamp,
The time of reft, the promis'd fabbath comes.
Six thousand years of forrow have well-nigh
Fulfill'd their tardy and disfastrous course
Over a finful world; and what remains
Of this tempestuous ftate of human things,
Is merely as the working of a fea

Before a calm, that rocks itself to reft:

For He whofe car the winds are, and the clouds The duft that waits upon his fultry march, When fin hath mov'd him, and his wrath is hot, Shall vifit earth in mercy; fhall defcend Propitious, in his chariot pav'd with love,

And

And what his ftorms have blafted and defac'd
For man's revolt, fhall with a fmile repair.

Sweet is the harp of prophecy; too sweet
Not to be wrong'd by a mere mortal touch:
Nor can the wonders it records be fung
To meaner mufic, and not fuffer lofs.
But when a poet, or when one like me,
Happy to rove among poetic flow'rs,

Though poor in skill to rear them, lights at laft
On some fair theme, fome theme divinely fair,
Such is the impulfe and the fpur he feels
To give it praise proportion'd to its worth,
That not t' attempt it, arduous as he deems
The labor, were a task more arduous ftill.

Oh scenes furpaffing fable, and yet true,
Scenes of accomplish'd blifs! which who can fee
Though but in diftant profpect, and not feel
His foul refresh'd with foretaste of the joy?
Rivers of gladness water all the earth,

And clothe all climes with beauty; the reproach
Of barrenness is past. The fruitful field
Laughs with abundance, and the land, once lean,
Or fertile only in its own difgrace,
Exults to fee its thiftly curse repeal'd.
The various feasons woven into one,
And that one feason an eternal spring,

The garden fears no blight, and needs no fence, For there is none to covet, all are full.

The lion, and the libbard, and the bear,

Graze with the fearlefs flocks; all bafk at noon
Together, or all gambol in the fhade

Of the fame. grove, and drink one common stream.
Antipathies are none. No foe to man
Lurks in the ferpent now: the mother fees,
And fmiles to fee her infant's playful hand
Stretch'd forth to dally with the crested worm,
To ftroke his azure neck, or to receive
The lambent homage of his arrowy tongue.
All creatures worship man, and all mankind
One Lord, one Father: Error has no place:
That creeping pestilence is driv'n away:

The breath of heav'n'has chas'd it. In the heart
No paffion touches a difcordant ftring,

But all is harmony and love. Disease

Is not the pure and uncontaminate blood
Holds its due courfe, nor fears the froft of age..
One fong employs all nations; and all cry,
"Worthy the Lamb, for he was flain for us.”
The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks
Shout to each other, and the mountain tops
From distant mountains catch the flying joy,
Till nation after nation taught the ftrain,

Earth

Earth rolls the rapturous Hofanna round.
Behold the measure of the promise fill'd;
See Salem built, the labour of a God! ..
Bright as a fun the facred city fhines;
All kingdoms and all princes of the earth
Flock to that light; the glory of all lands
Flows into her; unbounded is her joy,

And endless her encrease.. Thy rams are there

*Nebaioth, and the flocks of Kedar there;

The looms of Ormus, and the mines of Ind,
And Saba's fpicy groves, pay tribute there.
Praise is in all her gates: upon her walls,
And in her streets,, and in her spacious courts,
Is heard falvation. Eastern Java there
Kneels with the native of the fartheft Weft,
And Æthiopia fpreads abroad the hand
And worships. Her report has travell❜d forth
Into all lands. From ev'ry clime they come
To fee thy beauty and to fhare thy joy,
O Sion! an affembly fuch as earth.
Saw never, fuch as Heav'n ftoops down to fee.

Nebaioth and Kedar, the fons of Ifhmael, and progenitors of the Arabs, in the prophetic fcripture here alluded to, may be reasonably confidered as reprefentatives of the Gentiles at large.

Thus