So peaceful refts, without a ftone, a name, What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame. How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot;
A heap of duft alone remains of thee,
'Tis all thou art, and all the proud fhall be !
Poets themselves muft fall, like those they fung, Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue. Ev'n he, whose foul now melts in mournful lays, Shall fhortly want the gen'rous tear he pays; Then from his clofing eyes thy form fhall part, And the last pang shall tear thee from his heart; Life's idle bufiness at one gafp be o'er,
The Muse forgot, and thou belov'd no more!
HESE are thy glorious works, Parent of good! Almighty thine this univerfal frame,
Thus wond'rous fair! thyfelf how wond'rous then! Unfpeakable! who fittest above these heav'ns, To us invifible, or dimly feen
In these thy lowlieft works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine. Speak ye who beft can tell, ye fons of light, Angels; for ye behold him, and with fongs And choral fymphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heav'n. On earth join all ye creatures to extol
Him firft, him laft, him midft, and without end.
Faireft of ftars, laft in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day, that crown'd the fmiling morn With thy bright circlet, praife him in thy fphere, While day arifes, that sweet hour of prime. Thou fun, of this great world both eye and foul, Acknowledge him thy greater; found his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon haft gain'd, and when thou fall'ft, Moon, that now meets the orient fun, now fly'st With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies ; And ye five other wand'ring fires, that move In myftic dance not without fong, refound His praife, who out of darknefs, call'd up light.. Air, and ye elements, the eldeft birth
Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run. Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix,
And nourish all things; let your ceafelefs change Vary to our great Maker ftill new praise. Ye mifts and exhalations, that now rife From hill or ftreaming lake, dusky or gray, Till the fun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honour to the world's great Author rife, Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky, Or wet the thirsty earth with falling fhowers, Rifing or falling ftill advance his praife.
His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe foft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines, With every plant, in fign of worship wave. Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices all ye living fouls; ye birds,
That finging up to heaven-gate afcend,
Bear on your wings and in your
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and ftately tread, or lowly creep; Witness if I be filent, morn or even
To hill or valley, fountain or fresh fhade, Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. Hail, univerfal Lord; be bounteous ftill To give us only good; and if the night Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd, Disperse it, as now light difpels the dark.
THOU that, with furpaffing glory crown'd, Todorant 2 by fourning story the cod
Of this new world; at whofe fight all the stars Hide their diminish'd heads; to thee I call, But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, O fun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams, That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy fphere; 'Till pride, and worfe ambition threw me down, Warring in heav'n againft heav'n's matchlefs King. Ah, wherefore ? he deferv'd no fuch return From me, whom he created what I was In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none; nor was his fervice hard. What could be lefs, than to afford him praise, The eafieft recompence, and pay him thanks,
How due! yet all his good prov'd ill in me, And wrought but malice; lifted up fo high I 'fdain'd subjection, and thought one step higher Would fet me high'st, and in a moment quit The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burdenfome, ftill paying, ftill to owe; Forgetful what from him I ftill receiv'd ; And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but ftill pays, at once Indebted and discharged; what burthen then? O had his pow'rful destiny ordain'd
Me fome inferior angel, I had stood
Then happy; no unbounded hope had rais'd Ambition. Yet why not? fome other
As great might have afpir'd, and me though mean Drawn to his part; but other pow'rs as great Fell not, but ftand unfhaken, from within
Or from without, to all temptations arm'd.
Hadit thou the fame free will and pow'r to ftand? Thou hadft. Whom haft thou then, or what t' accufe, But Heav'n's free love dealt equally to all? Be then his love accurs'd, fince love or hate To me alike, it deals eternal woe.
Nay, curs'd be thou; fince against his thy will Chose freely what it now fo juftly rues. Me miferable! which way fhall I fly Infinite wrath, and infinite despair? Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell; And, in the loweft deep, a lower deep Still threat'ning to devour me opens wide, To which the hell I fuffer feems a heaven. O then at last relent: is there no place
Left for repentance, none for pardon left? None left but by fubmiffion; and that word Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame Among the fpirits beneath, whom I feduc'd With other promifes, andother vaunts, Than to fubmit, boafting I could fubdue Th' Omnipotent. Ah me, they little know How dearly I abide that boast so vain, Under what torments inwardly I groan, While they adore me on the throne of hell : With diadem and fceptre high advanc'd, The lower ftill I fall, only fupreme In mifery fuch joy ambition finds. But fay I could repent, and could obtain, By act of grace, my former state; how foon
Would height recall high thoughts, how foon unfay What feign'd fubmiffion swore! eafe would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void :
For never can true reconcilement grow
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd fo deep : Which would but lead us to a worse relapse, And heavier fall: fo fhould I purchase dear Short intermiffion, bought with double fmart. This knows my punisher: therefore as far From granting he, as I from begging peace : All hope excluded thus, behold instead Of us outcast, exil'd, his new delight, Mankind created, and for him this world. So farewel hope, and with hope farewel fear, Farewel remorfe; all good to me is lost : Evil be thou my good: by thee at least Divided empire with heav'n's King I hold,
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