Of gratulation and delight her king? Pours fhe not all her choiceft fruits abroad, Her sweetest flowers, her aromatic gums, Difclofing paradife wherever he treads?
She quakes at his approach. Her hollow womb, Conceiving thunders, through a thousand deeps And fiery caverns roars beneath his foot.
The hills move lightly, and the mountains smoke, For he has touched them. From the extremeft point Of elevation down into the abyss
His wrath is bufy, and his frown is felt.
The rocks fall headlong, and the vallies rise,
The rivers die into offenfive pools,
And, charged with putrid verdure, breathe a grofs And mortal nuisance into all the air.
What folid was, by transformation strange, Grows fluid; and the fixt and rooted earth, Tormented into billows, heaves and fwells, Or with vortiginous and hideous whirl Sucks down its prey infatiable. Immense The tumult and the overthrow, the pangs And agonies of human and of brute Multitudes, fugitive on every fide, And fugitive in vain. The sylvan scene Migrates uplifted; and, with all its foil Alighting in far diftant fields, finds out
A new poffeffor, and furvives the change. Ocean has caught the frenzy, and, upwrought To an enormous and overbearing height, Not by a mighty wind, but by that voice, Which winds and waves obey, invades the shore Refiftlefs. Never fuch a sudden flood,
Upridged fo high, and sent on such a charge, Poffeffed an inland fcene. Where now the throng, That preffed the beach, and, hafty to depart, Looked to the fea for fafety? They are gone, Gone with the refluent wave into the deep- A prince with half his people! Ancient towers, And roofs embattled high, the gloomy fcenes, Where beauty oft and lettered worth consume Life in the unproductive shades of death, Fall prone: the pale inhabitants come forth, And, happy in their unforeseen release From all the rigours of reftraint, enjoy
The terrors of the day, that sets them free. Who then that has thee, would not hold thee fast, Freedom! whom they that lose thee fo regret, That even a judgment, making way for thee, Seems in their eyes a mercy for thy fake.
Such evil fin hath wrought; and fuch a flame Kindled in heaven, that it burns down to earth,
And in the furious inqueft, that it makes
On God's behalf, lays wafte his faireft works. The very elements, though each be meant
The minifter of man, to ferve his wants, Confpire against him. With his breath he draws A plague into his blood; and cannot use Life's neceffary means, but he must die. Storms rife to overwhelm him: or, if stormy winds Rife not, the waters of the deep shall rife, And, needing none affiftance of the ftorm, Shall roll themselves afhore, and reach him there. The earth shall shake him out of all his holds, Or make his houfe his grave: nor fo content, Shall counterfeit the motions of the flood, And drown him in her dry and dufty gulphs. What then!-were they the wicked above all, And we the righteous, whofe faft anchored ifle Moved not, while their's was rocked, like a light skiff, The fport of every wave? No: none are clear, And none than we more guilty. But, where all Stand chargeable with guilt, and to the fhafts Of wrath obnoxious, God may choose his mark: May punish, if he please, the lefs, to warn The more, mal gnant. If he fpared not them, Tremble and be amazed at thine escape, Far guiltier England, left he spare not thee!
Happy the man, who fees a God employed In all the good and ill, that checquer lite! Refolving all events, with their effects And manifold refults, into the will
And arbitration wife of the Supreme.
Did not his eye rule all things, and intend The least of our concerns (fince from the leaft The greateft oft originate); could chance Find place in his dominion, or dispose One lawless particle to thwart his plan; Then God might be surprised, and unforeseen Contingence might alarm him, and disturb The smooth and equal courfe of his affairs. This truth philofophy, though eagle-eyed In nature's tendencies, oft overlooks; And, having found his inftrument, forgets, Or difregards, or, more prefumptuous ftill, Denies the power, that wields it. God proclaims His hot difpleasure against foolish men, That live an atheift life: involves the heaven In tempefts: quits his grafp upon the winds, And gives them all their fury; bids a plague Kindle a fiery boil upon the skin,
And putrify the breath of blooming health. He calls for famine, and the meagre fiend Blows mildew from between his fhrivelled lips,
And taints the golden ear.
And defolates a nation at a blaft.
Forth fteps the fpruce philofopher, and tells Of homogeneal and difcordant springs And principles; of caufes, how they work By neceffary laws their fure effects; Of action and re-action. He has found The fource of the disease, that nature feels, And bids the world take heart and banish fear. Thou fool! will thy discovery of the cause Sufpend the effect, or heal it? Has not God Still wrought by means fince firft he made the world? And did he not of old employ his means To drown it? What is his creation lefs Than a capacious refervoir of means Formed for his ufe, and ready at his will?
Go, dress thine eyes with eye-falve; afk of him, Or afk of whomfoever he has taught;
And learn, though late, the genuine caufe of all.
England, with all thy faults, I love thee ftillMy country! and, while yet a nook is left, Where English minds and manners may be found, Shall be constrained to love thee. Though thy clime Be fickle, and thy year moft part deformed
With dripping rains, or withered by a froft,
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