Part 30 (1/2)

A mighty Being! and in him A complicated friend, A father, brother, spouse; no dread Of death, divorce, or end:

Who such a matchless friend embrace, And lodge him in their heart, Full well, from agonies exempt, With other friends may part:

As when o'erloaded branches bear Large cl.u.s.ters big with wine, We scarce regret one falling leaf From the luxuriant vine.

My short advice to you may sound Obscure or somewhat odd, Though 'tis the best that man can give,- ”E'en be content with G.o.d.”

Through love he gave you the deceas'd, Through greater took him hence; This reason fully could evince, Though murmur'd at by sense.

This friend, far past the kindest kind, Is past the greatest great; His greatness let me touch in points Not foreign to your state;

His eye, this instant, reads your heart; A truth less obvious hear; This instant its most secret thoughts Are sounding in his ear:

Dispute you this? O! stand in awe, And cease your sorrow; know, That tears now trickling down, he saw Ten thousand years ago;

And twice ten thousand hence, if you Your temper reconcile To reason's bound, will he behold Your prudence with a smile;

A smile, which through eternity Diffuses so bright rays, The dimmest deifies e'en guilt, If guilt, at last, obeys:

Your guilt (for guilt it is to mourn When such a sovereign reigns), Your guilt diminish; peace pursue; How glorious peace in pains!

Here, then, your sorrows cease; if not, Think how unhappy they, Who guilt increase by streaming tears, Which guilt should wash away;

Of tears that gush profuse restrain; Whence burst those dismal sighs?

They from the throbbing breast of one (Strange truth!) most happy rise;

Not angels (hear it, and exult!) Enjoy a larger share Than is indulg'd to you, and yours, Of G.o.d's impartial care;

Anxious for each, as if on each His care for all was thrown; For all his care as absolute, As all had been but one.

And is he then so near! so kind!- How little then, and great, That riddle, man! O! let me gaze At wonders in his fate;

His fate, who yesterday did crawl A worm from darkness deep, And shall, with brother worms, beneath A turf, to-morrow sleep;

How mean!-And yet, if well obey'd His mighty Master's call, The whole creation for mean man Is deem'd a boon too small:

Too small the whole creation deem'd For emmets in the dust!

Account amazing! yet most true; My song is bold, yet just:

Man born for infinite, in whom Nor period can destroy The power, in exquisite extremes, To suffer, or enjoy;

Give him earth's empire (if no more) He's beggar'd, and undone!

Imprison'd in unbounded s.p.a.ce!

Benighted by the sun!

For what the sun's meridian blaze To the most feeble ray Which glimmers from the distant dawn Of uncreated day?

'Tis not the poet's rapture feign'd Swells here the vain to please; The mind most sober kindles most At truths sublime as these;

They warm e'en me.-I dare not say, Divine ambition strove Not to bless only, but confound, Nay, fright us with its love;

And yet so frightful what, or kind, As that the rending rock, The darken'd sun, and rising dead, So formidable spoke?