Who dare to own my injur'd cause,
Though fools deride my facred laws;
Or fcorn to deviate to the wrong,
Though Perfecution lifts her thong;
Though all the fons of hell conspire
To raise the stake and light the fire;.
Know, that for fuch fuperior fouls,
There lies a blifs beyond the poles;
Where spirits fhine with purer ray,
And brighten to meridian day;
Where love, where boundless friendship rules;
(No friends that change, no love that cools;)
Where rifing floods of knowledge roll,
And pour, and pour upon the foul!"
"But where's the passage to the skies?— The road through Death's black valley lies. Nay, do not fhudder at my tale ;
Tho' dark the fhades, yet fafe 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 favour can't be priz'd too high."
While thus fhe fpoke, my looks exprefs'd
The raptures kindling in my breaft;
My foul a fix'd attention gave;
When the ftern Monarch of the Grave
With haughty ftrides approach'd—amaz'd
I ftood and trembled as I gaz'd.
The feraph calm'd each anxious fear,
And kindly wip'd the falling tear;
Then haften'd with expanded wing
To meet the pale, terrific king.
But now what milder scenes arife!
The tyrant drops his hoftile guife;
He feems a youth divinely fair,
His graceful ringlets wave his hair;
His wings their whit'ning plumes display,
His burnifh'd plumes reflect the day;
Light flows his fhining azure veft,
And all the angel ftands confefs'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
And triumph'd in the thoughts of Death.
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 fighs are breath'd for more.
O! quit the fhadow, 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 fold?
No-all that's worth a wifha thought,
Fair Virtue gives unbrib'd, unbought.
Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind;
Let nobler views engage thy mind.
Nothing formed in Vain.
LET no prefuming impious railer tax
Creative wisdom, as if aught was form'd
In vain, or not for admirable ends.
Shall little haughty Ignorance pronounce
His works unwife, of which the smallest part.
Exceeds the narrow vifion of her mind?
As if, upon a full-proportion'd dome,.
On fwelling columns heav'd, the pride of art!!
A critic-fly, whofe feeble ray fcarce fpreads
An inch around, with blind prefumption bold,,
Should dare to tax the ftructure of the whole.
And lives the man, whose universal eye
Has fwept at once th2 unbounded scheme of things;
Mark'd their dependence fo, and firm accord,
As with unfault'ring accent to conclude,
That This availeth nought? Has any feen.
The mighty chain of beings, lefs'ning down
From infinite perfection, to the brink.
Of dreary nothing, defolate abyfs!:
From which astonish'd Thought, recoiling, turns?
Till then alone let zealous praise ascend,
And hymns of holy wonder,. to that POWER,
Whose wisdom shines as lovely in our minds,
As on our fmiling eyes his fervant-sun.
Of all the caufes, which confpire to blind
Man's erring judgment, and mifguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest bias rules,
Is Pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
Whatever Nature has in worth deny'd
She gives in large recruits of needlefs pride!
For, as in bodies, thus in fouls, we find
What wants in blood and spirits, fwell'd with wind.
Pride, where wit fails, fteps into our defence,
And fills up all the mighty void of fenfe.
If once right Reafon drives that cloud away,
Truth breaks upon us with refiftless day.
Truft not yourself; but, your defects to know,
Make use of ev'ry friend-and ev'ry foe.
A little learning is a dang'rous thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring :
There fhallow draughts intoxicate the brain;
And drinking largely fobers us again.
Fir'd at first fight with what the Mufe imparts,
In fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts,
While, from the bounded level of our mind,
Short views we take, nor fee the lengths behind;
But, more advanc'd, behold, with ftrange furprise,
New diftant fcenes of endless science rife!
So pleas'd at first the tow'ring Alps we try,
Mount o'er the vales, and feem to tread the sky;
Th' eternal fnows appear already past,
And the first clouds and mountains feem the laft:
But, thofe attain'd, we tremble to furvey-
The growing labours of the lengthen'd way;
Th' increasing prospect tires our wand'ring eyes ;
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise..
Cruelty to Brutes cenfured.
I WOULD not enter on my lift of friends, (Though grac'd with polish'd manners and fine fenfe, Yet wanting fenfibility,) the man
Who needlessly fets foot upon a worm.
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