And of their doings God takes no account. Tomorrow, ere fresh morning streak the east With first approach of light, we must be risen, And at our pleasant labor; to reform Yon flow'ry arbors, yonder alleys green, Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, That mock our scant manuring, and require More hands than ours to lop their wonton growth. Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums, That lie bestrown unsightly and unsmooth, Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease. Meanwhile, as Nature wills, night bids us rest." To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorn'd "My author and disposer, what thou bidst Unargu'd I obey: so God ordains.
With thee conversing. I forget all time; All seasons and their change, all please alike. Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds: pleasant the sun When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flow'r, Glist'ning with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft show'rs; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild; then silent night, With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, And these the gems of heaven, her starry train : But neither breath of morn, when she ascends With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flow'r, Glist'ning with dew; nor fragrance after show'rs; Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night With this her solemn bird: nor walk by moon, Or glitt❜ring star-light,-without thee is sweet. But wherefore all night long shine these? for whom This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes?" To whom our gen❜ral ancestor reply'd : "Daughter of God and man, accomplish'd Eve, These have their course to finish round the earth, By morrow-evening; and from land to land In order, though to nations yet unborn, Minist'ring light prepar'd they set and rise: Lest total darkness should by night regain
Her old possession and extinguish life
In nature and in all things; which these soft fires Not only enlighten, but, with kindly heat Of various influence, foment and warm, Temper or nourish; or in part shed down Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow On earth, made hereby apter to receive Perfection from the sun's more potent ray. These then, though unbeheld in deep of night, Shine not in vain; nor think, though men were none, That heav'n would want spectators, God want praise : Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep. All these with ceasless praise his works behold, Both day and night. How often, from the steep Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole or responsive each to others' note, Singing their great Creator? Oft in bands, While they keep watch, or nigdy rounding walk With heav'nly touch of instrumental sounds, In full harmonic number join'd, their songs Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heaven." Thus talking, hand in hand alone they pass'd On to their blissful bow'r.
There arriv'd, both stood, Both turn'd; and under open sky ador'd
The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heav'n, Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe, And starry pole. "Thou also mad'st the night, Maker omnipotent, and thou the day, Which we in our appointed work employ'd, Have finish'd, happy in our mutual help. And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss Ordain'd by thee; and this delicious place For us too large, where thy abundance wants Partakers, and uncrop'd falls to the ground. But thou hast promis'd from us two a race, To fill the earth, who shall with us extol Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep."
SECTION VI.
Religion and Death.
Lo! a form divinely bright
Descends, and bursts upon my sight; A seraph of illustrious birth! (Religion was her name on earth ;) Supremely sweet her radiant face, And blooming with celestial grace! Three shining cherubs form'd her train, Wav'd their light wings, and reach'd the plain : Faith, with sublime and piercing eye,
And pinions flutt'ring for the sky; Here hope, that smiling angel stands, And golden anchors grace her hands; There charity in robes of white, Fairest and fav'rite maid of light.
The seraph spoke-" 'Tis reason's part To govern and to guide the heart; To lull the wayward soul to rest, When hope and fears distract the breast. Reason may calm this doubtful strife, And steer thy bark through various life: But when the storms of death are nigh, And midnight darkness veils the sky, Shall reason then direct thy sail, Disperse the clouds, or sink the gale ? Stranger, this skill alone is mine, Skill that transcends his scanty line." "Revere thyself—thou'rt near allied To angels on thy better side.
How various e'er their ranks or kinds, Angels are but unbodied minds: When the partition walls decay, Men emerge angels from their clay. Yes, when the frailer body dies, The soul asserts her kindred skies. But minds, though sprung from heav'nly race, Must first be tutor'd for the place : The joys above are understood, And relish'd only by the good. Who shall assume this guardian care;
Who shall secure their birthright there? Souls are my charge-to me 'tis giv'n To train them for their native heav'n." "Know then, who bow the early knee, And give the willing heart to me; Who wisely, when temptation waits, Elude her frauds, and spurn her baits; Who dare to own my injur'd cause, Though fools deride my sacred laws; Or scorn to deviate to the wrong, Though persecution lifts her thong; Though all the sons of hell conspire To raise the stake and light the fire Know, that for such superior souls, There lies a bliss beyond the poles ; Where spirits shine with purer ray, And brighten to meridian day;
Where love, where boundless friendship rules; (No friends that change, no love that cools ;) Where rising floods of knowledge roll, And pour, and pour upon the soul !"
"But where's the passage to the skies?— The road through death's black valley lies. Nay, do not shudder at my tale; Tho' dark the shades, yet safe the vale. This path the best of men have trod And who'd decline the road to God ? Oh! 'tis a glorious boon to die! This favor can't be priz'd too high."
While thus she spoke, my looks express'd
The raptures kindling in my breast; My soul a fix'd attention gave; When the stern monarch of the grave, With haughty strides approach'd-amaz'd I stood and trembled as I gaz'd. The seraph calm'd each anxious fear, And kindly wip'd the falling tear; Then hasten'd with expanded wing To meet the pale, terrific king. But now what milder scenes arise! The tyrant drops his hostile guise He seems a youth divinely fair,
His graceful ringlets wave his hair; His wings their whit'ning plumes display, His burnish'd plumes reflect the day; Light flows his shining azure vest, And all the angel stands confess'd.
I view'd the change with sweet surprise; And, oh! I panted for the skies;
Thank'd heav'n, that e'er I drew my breath; And triumph'd in the thoughts of death.
CHAPTER III.
DIDACTIC PIECES.
SECTION I.
The Vanity of Wealth.
No more thus brooding o’er yon heap,
With av'rice painful vigils keep; Still unenjoy'd the present store, Still endless sighs are breath'd for more. O! quit the shadow, catch the prize, Which not all India's treasure buys! To purchase heav'n has gold the pow'r? Can gold remove the mortal hour? In life can love be bought with gold? Are friendship's pleasures to be sold? No; all that's worth a wish, a thought, Fair virtue gives unbrib'd, unbought. Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind ; Let nobler views engage thy mind.
LET no presuming impious railer tax Creative wisdom, as if aught was form'd In váin, or not for admirable ends.
Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce His works unwise, of which the smallest part Exceeds the narrow vision of her mind? As if upon a full proportion'd dome, T
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