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Then shall ev'ry guiltless pleasure
Soile with charms unknown before, Hope secure in real treafirre
Mourn her blased joys no more : Then through each revolving year
Though eartbly glories fad away,
Though youth, and strength, and life itself, decayYet ftill more bright the prospect shall appear;
Happier still the latest day,
Brightest far the parting ray.
O'er life's last scene celestial beains shall line,
Till Death at length shall burst the chain,
While songs of triumph found on high ;
Then shall Hope her pow'r resign,
Lost in endless ecftafy,
And never-fading joy in heaven's full glories reign.
AN AUTUMNAL ELEGY. LONELY and filent, o'er the ruffet fields,
Musing along, with pentive steps I sove! The scene no more its wonted pleasure yields,
Its beauty loft, and mute the neighb'ring grove. Whilst Grief o'er drooping Nature theds a tear,
Affection fond shall pour the duteous lay,
To mourn the ruins of the falling year,
Ere yet the wintry storms o’ercast the day.
Sweet were those scenes, when lovely crops of grain
Wav'd to the fost-wing'd breeze, that fragrance bore From yonder, balmy meads and fertile plain,
Which now their flowery vestment wear no more.
'Twas there, with bright-ey'd Fancy erft, I Rray'd
To meet Hygeia on the dewy lawn ; (Then sweeter (mild the rofy-blushing maid,)
When young Aurora kindled up the dawn. And there, by lonely Contemplation led,
What time chafte Eve assum'd her gentle reign, Tafted the sweets by bounteous Nature spread ; Sooth'd by sweet Philomela’s charming ftrain :--
which way soe'er I turn my eyes, The fading profpect fickens to my view, The drooping Woodland's variegated dyes
Proclaim around gay Summer's last adieu. Adieu, ye fields; adieu, ye once-lov'd shades;
Adieu those pleasures once to me ye gave'. For others joy the flowers may deck your glades,
Your warblers fing, and future foliage wave. But why lament for transient pleasures flown ?
Spring shall return, and deck the ravag'd plain ; Nature again thall lose her wintry frown,
And smile through all her animated reign. If not to me; yet Hope's translucent ray
Opens a prospect far beyond the tomb, Where happy fields enjoy a cloudless day,
And groves immortal wear a fadeless bloom. A few revolving suns the change may bring,
Which lands me on that peaceful boundless fhore, There to enjoy an everlasting Spring,
Where Winter storms difturb the scene no more,
THE HEBREW POET. This ODE represents the Difficulty of a just Translation of
the Psalms of David, in all their Hebrew Glory; with an Apology for the Imitation of them in Christian Language. SHEW
me the man that dares and fings
Great David's verfe to British ftrings:
Sublime attempt ! but bold and vain
As building Babel's tower again,
The bard * that climb'd to Cooper's Hill,
Reaching at Zion, lham'd his skill,
And bids the fons of Albion owa,
That Judah’s Psalmist reigns alone.
Bleft Poet! now,
He soothes, our ears with filver streams;
Like his own Jordan now he rolls,
And sweeps away our captive fouls.
Softly the tuneful shepherd leads
The Hebrew flocks to flowery meads :
He marks their path with notes divine,
While fountains spring with oil and wine.
Rivers of peace attend his song,
And draw their milky train along :
He jars; and lo! the fints are broke,
But honey issues froin the rock.
When kindling with victorious fire,
He shakes his lance across the lyre:
* Sir John Denham.
The lyre rcfounds unknown alarms,
And sets the thunderer in arms.
Behold the God! th' Almighty King
Rides on a tempest's glorious wing :
His enfigns lighten round the sky,
And moving legions found on high.
Ten thousand cherubs wait his course,
Chariots of fire and flaming horse:
Earth trembles, and her mountains flow,
At his approach, like melting snow.
But who these frowns of wrath can draw,
That strike Heav'n, Earth, and Hell, with awe?
Red lightning from his eyelids broke ;
His voice was thunder, hail, and smoke.
He fpake; the cleaving waters fled,
And stars beheld the occan's bed :
While the great master ftrikes his lyre,
You see the frighted floods retire :,
In heaps the frighted billows stand,
Waiting the changes of his hand :
He leads his Israel through the sea,
And watery mountains guard their way.
Turning his hand with sovereign fweep
He drowns all Egypt in the deep:
Then guides the tribes, a glorious band,
Through deserts, to the promis'd land!
Here camps, with wide embattl'd force';
Here gates and bulwarks stop their course :
He forms the mounds, the bulwark falls,
The harp lies Brow'd with ruin'd walls.
See his broad sword fies o'er the strings,
And mows down nations with their kings :
From every chord his bolts are hurld,
And vengeance fmites the rebel world.
Lo! the great Poet Mifts the scene;
And Thews the face of God serene:
Truth, Meekness, Peace, Salvation ride,
With guards of justice at his fide.
No meaner muse could weave the light,
To form his robes divinely bright;
Or frame a crown of stars to shine
With beams for Majefty Divine.
Now in prophetic light he fees
Ages to come, and dark decrees;
He brings the Prince of Glory down,
Stript of his robe and starry crown.
See Jews and Heathens fir'd with rage ;
See the combining pow'rs engage
Against th' Anointed of the Lord,
The Man whom angels late ador'd;
God's only Son; behold he dies!
Surprising grief ! the groans arise !
The lyre complains on ev'ry string,
And mourns the murder of her King.
But Heaven's Anointed must not dwell
In death : the vanquish'd pow'rs of hell
Yield to the harp's diviner lay ;
The grave religns th' illustrious prey.
Messiah lives ! Melliah reigns !
The song surmounts the airy plains,