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Long Arms of Oak an open Bridge fupply'd,
And deep the Waves beneath the Bending glide.
The Youth, who seem'd to watch a Time to sin,
Approach'd the careless Guide, and thrust him in;
Plunging he falls, and rising, lifts his Head,
Then Aalhing turns, and sinks among the Dead.

Wild sparkling Rage inflames the Father's Eyes, He bursts the Bands of Fear, and madly cries, Detested Wretchbut scarce his Speech began, When the strange Partner seem'd no longer Man: His youthful Face grew more ferencly sweet; His Robe turn'd white, and flow'd upon his Feet; Fair Rounds of radiant Points invest his Hair; Celestial Odours breathe thro' purpled Air; And Wings, whose Colours glitter'd on the Day, Wide at his Back their gradual Plumes display; The Form ætherial burits


his Sight, And moves in all the Majesty of Light.

Tho' loud at first the Pilgrim's Paffion grew,
Sudden he gaz'd, and wist not what to do ;
Surprize in secret Chains his Word fuspends,
And in a Calm his settling Temper ends.
Bat Silence here the beauteous Angel broke,
(The Voice of Music ravish'd as he spoke.)

Thy Pray'r, thy Praise, thy Life to Vice unknown, In sweet Memorial rise before the Throne ; These Charms, Success in our bright Region find, And force an Angel down, to calm thy Mind; For this commission'd I forfook the sky : Nay, cease to kneel-thy Fellow-fervant İ.



Then know the Truth of Government divine, And let these Scruples be no longer thine.

The Maker juftly claims the World he made, In this the Right of Providence is laid; Its facred Majesty thro' all depends On using second Means to work his Ends.

'Tis thus, withdrawn in State from human Eye, The Pow'r exerts his Attributes on high, Your Actions uses, nor controuls your Will, And bids the doubting Sons of Men be still.

What strange Events can strike with more Surprize Than those which lately struck thy wond'ring Eyes? Yet taught by thefe, confess th' Almighty just, And where


can't unriddle, learn to trust.

The Great, vain Man, who far'd on costly Food, Whose Life was too luxurious to be good ; Who made his Iv'ry Stands with Goblets shine, And forc'd his Guests to Morning Draughts of Wine, Has, with the Cup, the graceless, Custom lost, And still he welcomes, but with less of Cost.

The mean, suspicious Wretch, whose bolted Door, Ne'er mov'd in Duty to the wand'ring Poor; With him I left the Cup, to teach his Mind That Heav'n can bless, if Mortals will be kind. Conscious of wanting Worth, he views the Bowl, And feels Compassion touch his grateful Soul. Thus Artists melt the sullen Ore of Lead, With heaping Coals of Fire upon its Head;


In the kind Warmth the Metal learns to glow,
And loose from Dross, the silver runs below.

Long had our pious Friend in Virtue trod, But now the Child half-wean'd his Heart from GOD; (Child of his Age) for him he liv'd in Pain, And measur'd back his Steps to Earth again. To what Excesses had his Dotage run ? But God, to save the Father, took the Son. To all but thee, in Fits he seem'd to go, (And 'twas my Ministry to deal the Blow.) The poor fond Parent, humbled in the Duft, Now owns in Tears the Punishment was just.

But how had all his Fortune felt a Wreck, Had that false Servant fped in safety back? This Night his treasur’d Heaps he meant to steal, And what a Fund of Charity would fail !

Thus Heav'n instructs thy Mind : This Trial o'er, Depart in Peace, resign, and sin no more.

On founding Pinions here the Youth withdrew, The Sage stood wond'ring as the Seraph flew. Thus look'd Elisha, when to mount on high His Master took the Chariot of the Sky; The fiery Pomp ascending left the View? The Prophet gaz'd, and wish'd to follow too.

The bending Hermit here a Pray'r begun, "Lord! as in Heav'n, on Earth thy will be done,” Then gladly turning, fought his ancient Place, And pass’d a Life of Piety and Peace. D 2



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F Man's first Disobedience, and the Fruit

Of that forbidden Tree, whose mortal Taste Brought Death into the World, and all our Woe, With Loss of Eden, 'till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat, Sing heav'nly Mufe, that on the secret Top Or Oreb, or of Sinai, didt inspire That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen Seed, In the Beginning, how the Heav'ns and Earth Rofe out of Chaos : Or if Sion Hill Delight thee more, and Siloa's Brook that flow'd Fast by the Oracle of God; I thence Invoke thy Aid to my adven'trous Song, That with no middle Flight intends to foar Above ThAonian Mount, while it pursues Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime. And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer Before all Temples, th' upright Heart and pure, Instruct me, for Thou know'st; Thou from the first Waft present, and with mighty Wings outspread, Dove-like fat'ft brooding on the vast Abyss, And mad'st it pregnant: What in me is dark Illumine, what is low raise and support; That to the Height of this great Argument I may

asfert eternal Providence, And justify the Ways of God to Men.




AIL holy Light, Offspring of Heav'n first-born,
Or of th' Eternal coeternal Beam,



May I express thee unblam’d? since God is Light,
And never but in unapproached Light
Dwelt from Eternity, dwelt then in thee,
Bright EMuence of bright Essence increate
Or hear'it thou rather pure æthereal Stream
Whose Fountain who shall tell ? before the Sun,
Before the Heav'ns Thou wert, and at the Voice
Of God, as with a Mantle didit invest
The rising World of Waters dark and deep,
Won from the void and formless Infinite.
Thee I revisit now with bolder Wing,
Escap'd the Stygian Pool, tho’long detain'd
In that obscure Sojourn, while in my Flight
Through utter and through middle Darkness borne
With other Notes than to th’Orphean Lyre
I sung of Chaos and eternal Night;
Taught by the heav'nly Mufe to venture down
The dark Descent, and up to re-ascend,
Though hard and rare; thee I revisit fafe,
And feel thy foy'reign vital lamp; but thou
Revisitft not these Eyes, that roll in vain
To find thy piercing Ray, and find no Dawn;
So thick a Drop serene hath quench'd their Orbs,
Or dim Suffufion veil'd. Yet not the inore
Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt
Clear Spring, or shady Grove, or funny Hill,
Smit with the Love of facred Song, but chief
Thee, Sion, and the flow’ry Brooks beneath
That wash thy hallow'd Feet, and warbling flow,
Nightly I visit: Nor sometimes forget
· Those other two equal'd with me in Fate,
So were I equald with them in Renown.
Blind Thamyris and blind Mæonides,


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