Part 29 (1/2)

The diff'rence is great as the s.p.a.ce 'Twixt you and us, who blindly run After false fires, and leave the sun.

Is not fair Nature of herself Much richer than dull paint or pelf?

And are not streams at the spring-head More sweet than in carv'd stone or lead?

But fancy and some artist's tools Frame a religion for fools.

The truth, which once was plainly taught, With thorns and briars now is fraught.

Some part is with bold fables spotted, Some by strange comments wildly blotted; And Discord--old Corruption's crest-- With blood and blame hath stain'd the rest.

So snow, which in its first descents A whiteness, like pure Heav'n, presents, When touch'd by man is quickly soil'd, And after, trodden down and spoil'd.

O lead me, where I may be free In truth and spirit to serve Thee!

Where undisturb'd I may converse With Thy great Self; and there rehea.r.s.e Thy gifts with thanks; and from Thy store, Who art all blessings, beg much more.

Give me the wisdom of the bee, And her unwearied industry!

That from the wild gourds of these days, I may extract health, and Thy praise, Who canst turn darkness into light, And in my weakness show Thy might.

Suffer me not in any want To seek refreshment from a plant Thou didst not set; since all must be Pluck'd up, whose growth is not from Thee.

'Tis not the garden, and the bow'rs, Nor sense and forms, that give to flow'rs Their wholesomeness, but Thy good will, Which truth and pureness purchase still.

Then since corrupt man hath driv'n hence Thy kind and saving influence, And balm is no more to be had In all the coasts of Gilead; Go with me to the shade and cell, Where Thy best servants once did dwell.

There let me know Thy will, and see Exil'd Religion own'd by Thee; For Thou canst turn dark grots to halls, And make hills blossom like the vales; Decking their untill'd heads with flow'rs, And fresh delights for all sad hours; Till from them, like a laden bee, I may fly home, and hive with Thee

TO CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

Farewell, thou true and tried reflection Of the still poor, and meek election: Farewell, soul's joy, the quick'ning health Of spirits, and their secret wealth!

Farewell, my morning-star, the bright And dawning looks of the True Light!

O blessed s.h.i.+ner, tell me whither Thou wilt be gone, when night comes. .h.i.ther!

A seer that observ'd thee in Thy course, and watch'd the growth of sin, Hath giv'n his judgment, and foretold, That westward hence thy course will hold; And when the day with us is done, There fix, and s.h.i.+ne a glorious sun.

O hated shades and darkness! when You have got here the sway again, And like unwholesome fogs withstood The light, and blasted all that's good, Who shall the happy shepherds be, To watch the next nativity Of truth and brightness, and make way For the returning, rising day?

O what year will bring back our bliss?

Or who shall live, when G.o.d doth this?

Thou Rock of Ages! and the Rest Of all, that for Thee are oppress'd!

Send down the Spirit of Thy truth, That Spirit, which the tender youth, And first growths of Thy Spouse did spread Through all the world, from one small head!

Then if to blood we must resist, Let Thy mild Dove, and our High-Priest, Help us, when man proves false or frowns, To bear the Cross, and save our crowns.

O honour those that honour Thee!

Make babes to still the enemy!

And teach an infant of few days To perfect by his death Thy praise!

Let none defile what Thou didst wed, Nor tear the garland from her head!

But chaste and cheerful let her die, And precious in the Bridegroom's eye So to Thy glory and her praise, These last shall be her brightest days.

Revel[ation] chap. last, vers. 17.

”_The Spirit and the Bride say, Come._”

DAPHNIS.

_An Elegiac Eclogue. The Interlocutors, Damon, Menalcas._