Part 31 (1/2)

Not less compell'd by reason's call, To thee our souls aspire, Than to thy skies, by nature's law, High mounts material fire;

To thee aspiring they exult, I feel my spirits rise, I feel myself thy son, and pant For patrimonial skies;

Since ardent thirst of future good, And generous sense of past, To thee man's prudence strongly ties, And binds affection fast;

Since great thy love, and great our want, And men the wisest blind, And bliss our aim; p.r.o.nounce us all Distracted, or resigned;

Resign'd through duty, interest, shame; Deep shame! dare I complain, When (wondrous truth!) in heaven itself Joy ow'd its birth to pain?

And pain for me! for me was drain'd Gall's overflowing bowl; And shall one drop to murmur bold Provoke my guilty soul?

If pardon'd this, what cause, what crime Can indignation raise?

The sun was lighted up to s.h.i.+ne, And man was born to praise;

And when to praise the man shall cease, Or sun to strike the view; A cloud dishonors both; but man's The blacker of the two:

For oh! ingrat.i.tude how black!

With most profound amaze At love, which man belov'd o'erlooks, Astonish'd angels gaze.

Praise cheers, and warms, like generous wine; Praise, more divine than prayer; Prayer points our ready path to heaven; Praise is already there.

Let plausive resignation rise, And banish all complaint; All virtues thronging into one, It finishes the saint;

Makes the man bless'd, as man can be; Life's labours renders light; Darts beams through fate's inc.u.mbent gloom, And lights our sun by night;

'T is nature's brightest ornament, The richest gift of grace, Rival of angels, and supreme Proprietor of peace;

Nay, peace beyond, no small degree Of rapture 't will impart; Know, madam! when your heart's in heaven, ”All heaven is in your heart.”

But who to heaven their hearts can raise?

Denied divine support, All virtue dies; support divine The wise with ardour court:

When prayer partakes the seraph's fire, 'T is mounted on his wing, Bursts thro' heaven's crystal gates, and Sure audience of its king:

The labouring soul from sore distress That bless'd expedient frees; I see you far advanc'd in peace; I see you on your knees:

How on that posture has the beam Divine for ever shone!

An humble heart, G.o.d's other seat!(58) The rival of his throne:

And stoops Omnipotence so low!

And condescends to dwell, Eternity's inhabitant, Well pleas'd, in such a cell?

Such honour how shall we repay?

How treat our guest divine?

The sacrifice supreme be slain!

Let self-will die: resign.

Thus far, at large, on our disease; Now let the cause be shown, Whence rises, and will ever rise, The dismal human groan: