What ftrange events can ftrike with more furprize,
Than, thofe which lately ftruck thy wondering eyes?
Yet, taught by thefe, confefs th' Almighty juft,
And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust!
The great, vain man, who far'd on coftly food,
Whofe life was too luxurious to be good;
Who made his ivory stands with goblets fhine,
And forc'd his guests to morning draughts of wine,
Has, with the cup, the graceless custom loft,
And ftill he welcomes, but with lefs of coft.
The mean, fufpicious wretch, whofe bolted door
Ne'er mov'd in duty to the wandering poor;
With him I left the cup, to teach his mind
That heaven can bleís, if mortals will be kind.
Confcious of wanting worth, he views the bowl,
And feels compaffion touch his grateful foul.
Thus artifts melt the fullen oar of lead,
With heaping coals of fire upon its head;
In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow,
And loofe from drofs the filver runs below.

Long had our pious friends in virtue troð,
But now the child half-wean'd his heart from God;
(Child of his age) for him he liv'd in pain,
And measur'd back his fteps to earth again.
To what exceffes had his dotage run?
But God, to fave the father, took the fon.
To all but thee, in fits he feem'd to go,
(And 't was my miniftry to deal the blow)
The poor fond parent, humbled in the duft,
Now owns in tears the punishment was just.

But

But now had all his fortune felt a wrack,
Had that falfe fervant fped in fafety back;
This night his treasur'd heaps he meant to steal,
And what a fund of charity would fail!
Thus Heaven instructs thy mind: this trial o'er,
Depart in peace, refign, and fin no more.

On founding pinions here the youth withdrew,
The Sage stood wondering as the Seraph flew.
Thus look'd Elisha when, to mount on high,
His mafter took the chariot of the sky;
The fiery pomp ascending left to view;
The prophet gaz'd, and wifh'd to follow too.
The bending Hermit here a prayer begun,
Lord! as in beaven, on earth thy will be done :
Then, gladly turning, fought his ancient place,
And pass'd a life of piety and peace.

PIETY, OR THE VISION*.

"T

WAS when the night in filent sable fled, When chearful morning sprung with rifing red, When dreams and vapours leave to croud the brain, And beft the vifion draws its heavenly fcene;

'Twas

This and the following poem are not in the octavo editions of Dr. Parnell's Poems published by Mr. Pope. They were first communicated to the public by the late ingenious Mr. James Arbuckle, and published in his Hibernicus's Letters, No. 62. GOLDSMITH.-They are now in fome degree corrected, from the volume of "Pofthumous Poems," N.

'Twas then, as flumbering on my couch I lay,
A fudden fplendor feem'd to kindle day,
A breeze came breathing in a sweet perfume,
Blown from eternal gardens, fill'd the room; ;
And in a void of blue, that clouds inveft,
Appear'd a daughter of the realms of reft;
Her head a ring of golden glory wore,
Her honour'd hand the facred volume bore,
Her raiment glittering feem'd a filver white,
And all her fweet companions fons of light.

Straight as I gaz'd, my fear and wonder grew,,
Fear barr'd my voice, and wonder fix'd my view; ›
When lo! a cherub of the shining croud
That fail'd as guardian in her azure cloud,
Fann'd the foft air, and downwards feem'd to glide,
And to my lips a living coal apply'd..

Then while the warmth o'er all my pulfes ran
Diffufing comfort, thus the maid began:

"Where glorious manfions are prepar'd above,

"The feats of mufic, and the feats of love, "Thence I defcend, and Piety my name,

"To warm thy bofom with celeftial flame, "To teach thee praises mix'd with humble prayers, "And tune thy foul to fing feraphic airs. "Be thou my Bard." A vial here she caught (An Angel's hand the crystal vial brought); And as with awful found the word was faid, She pour'd a facred unction on my head; Then thus proceeded : Be thy Mufe thy zeal, "Dare to be good, and all my joys reveal.

While other pencils flattering forms create,

And paint the gaudy plumes that deck the great; "While other pens exalt the vain delight,

"Whose wasteful revel wakes the depth of night; "Or others foftly fing in idle lines

"How Damon courts, or Amaryllis fhines;

"More wifely thou select a theme divine,
"Fame is their recompence, 'tis heaven is thine.
Despise the raptures of difcorded fire,
"Where wine, or paffion, or applause infpire
"Low restless life, and ravings born of earth,
"Whose meaner subjects speak their humble birth,
"Like working feas, that, when loud winters blow,
"Not made for rifing, only rage below.

"Mine is a warm and yet a lambent heat,
"More lasting still, as more intensely great,
"Produc'd where prayer, and praife, and pleasure breathe,
"And ever mounting whence it fhot beneath.

64

Unpaint the love, that, hovering over beds, "From glittering pinions guilty pleasure sheds "Reftore the colour to the golden mines "With which behind the feather'd idol fhines; "To flowering greens give back their native care, "The rofe and lily, never his to wear;

"To fweet Arabia fend the balmy breath;

Strip the fair flesh, and call the phantom Death: "His bow be fabled o'er, his fhafts the fame,

"And fork and point them with eternal flame. "But urge thy powers, thine utmost voice advance, "Make the loud ftrings against thy fingers dance:

""Tis love that Angels praise and men adore,
"Tis love divine that afks it all and more.
"Fling back the gates of ever-blazing day,
"Pour floods of liquid light to gild the way;
"And all in glory wrapt, through paths untrod,
"Pursue the great unfeen descent of God.

Hail the meek Virgin, bid the child appear, The child is God, and call him Jefus here. "He comes, but where to reft? A manger 's nigh, "Make the great Being in a manger lie; "Fill the wide fky with Angels on the wing, "Make thousands gaze, and make ten thousand fing "Let men afflict him, men he came to fave, "And ftill afflict him till he reach the grave; "Make him refign'd,,his loads of forrow meet, "And me, like Mary, weep beneath his feet; I'll bathe my treffes there, my prayers rehearse, And glide in flames of love along my verse. "Ah! while I speak, I feel my bofom fwell, "My raptures 'fmother what I long to tell... 'Tis God! a prefent God! through cleaving air. "I fee the throne, and fee the Jefus there

Plac'd on the right. He fhews the wounds he bore "(My fervours oft have won him thus before); "How pleas'd he looks! my words have reach'd his ear; "He bids. the gates unbar; and calls me near.”

She ceas'd. The cloud on which the feem'd to tread Its curls unfolded, and around her spread; Bright Angels waft their wings to raise the cloud, And fweep their ivory lutes, and fing aloud;

Tha