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And thou, sly hypocrite! who now wouldst seem
Patron of liberty, who more than thou

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Once fawn'd, and cringed, and servilely adored
Heaven's awful Monarch ?-wherefore, but in hope
To dispossess him, and thyself to reign?
But mark what I aread thee now-Avaunt!
Fly thither whence thou fled'st. If from this hour
Within these hallow'd limits thou appear,
Back to the infernal pit I drag thee chain'd,
And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn
The facile gates of hell too slightly barr'd."
So threaten'd he; but Satan to no threats
Gave heed, but waxing more in rage replied:
"Then when I am thy captive, talk of chains,
Proud limitary cherub! but ere then
Far heavier load thyself expect to feel
From my prevailing arm, though heaven's King
Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers-
Used to the yoke !-draw'st his triumphant wheels
In progress through the road of heaven star-paved."
While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright
Turn'd fiery red, sharpening in mooned horns
Their phalanx, and began to hem him round
With ported spears, as thick as when a field
Of Ceres, ripe for harvest, waving bends
Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind
Sways them; the careful ploughman doubting stands,
Lest on the thrashing-floor his hopeful sheaves
Prove chaff. On the other side, Satan, alarm'd,
Collecting all his might, dilated stood,

Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremoved :

His stature reach'd the sky, and on his crest
Sat horror plumed; nor wanted in his grasp

What seem'd both spear and shield. Now dreadful deeds
Might have ensued; Not only Paradise,
In this commotion, but the starry cope
Of heaven perhaps, or all the elements

At least, had gone to wreck, disturb'd and torn
With violence of this conflict, had not soon
The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray,
Hung forth in heaven his golden scales, yet seen
Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign,

Wherein all things created first he weigh'd-
The pendulous round earth with balanced air
In counterpoise; now ponders all events,
Battles and realms-In these he put two weights,
The sequel each of parting and of fight:
The latter quick up flew, and kick'd the beam;
Which Gabriel spying thus bespake the fiend:

"Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st Neither our own, but given: what folly then [mine; To boast what arms can do; since thine, no more Than Heaven permits, nor mine, though doubled now To trample thee as mire: for proof look up, And read thy lot in yon celestial sign;

[weak Where thou art weigh'd, and shown how light, how If thou resist." The fiend look'd up, and knew His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled Murmuring; and with him fled the shades of night.

own,

The Good Preacher and the Clerical Coxcomb.
Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul,
Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and
Paul should himself direct me; I would trace
His master-strokes, and draw from his design.
I would express him simple, grave, sincere;
In doctrine uncorrupt: in language plain;
And plain in manner. Decent, solemn, chaste,
And natural in gesture. Much impress'd
Himself, as conscious of his awful charge,
And anxious, mainly that the flock he feeds
May feel it too. Affectionate in look,
And tender in address, as well becomes
A messenger of grace to guilty men.

Behold the picture !—is it like ?-like whom?
The things that mount the rostrum with a skip,
And then-skip down again? pronounce a text,
Cry, hem! and, reading what they never wrote
Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work,
And with a well-bred whisper close the scene?
In man or woman-but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers,
And serves the altar-in my soul I loathe

All affectation : 'tis my perfect scorn:
Object of my implacable disgust.

What !—will a man play tricks—will he indulge
A silly fond conceit of his fair form
And just proportion, fashionable mien
And pretty face, in presence of his God?
Or will he seek to dazzle me with tropes,
As with the diamond on his lily hand;
And play his brilliant parts before my eyes,
When I am hungry for the bread of life?
He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shames
His noble office, and instead of truth,
Displaying his own beauty, starves his flock.
Therefore, avaunt! all attitude and stare,
And start theatric, practised at the glass!
I seek divine simplicity in him

Who handles things divine; and all beside,

Though learn'd with labour, and though much admired
By curious eyes and judgments ill-informed,
To me is odious.

Celadon and Amelia.

Comper

"Tis listening fear, and dumb amazement all:
When to the startled eye, the sudden glance
Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud;
And, following slower, in explosion vast,
The thunder raises his tremendous voice!
At first heard solemn, o'er the verge of Heaven,
The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The noise astounds; till, over head, a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts,
And opens wider; shuts and opens still,
Expansive, wrapping æther in a blaze:
Follows the loosen'd, aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deepening, mingling; peal on peal
Crush'd horrible, convulsing heaven and earth.

Guilt hears appall'd, with deeply troubled thought:

And yet, not always on the guilty head
Descends the fated flash.-Young Celadon

And his Amelia were a matchless pair;
With equal virtue form'd, and equal grace,
The same; distinguish'd by their sex alone:
Hers the mild lustre of the blooming morn,
And his the radiance of the risen day.

They loved; but such their guileless passion was
As in the dawn of time inform'd the heart
Of innocence, and undissembling truth.
'Twas friendship, heighten'd by the mutual wish :
The enchanting hope, and sympathetic glow,
Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all
To love, each was to each a dearer self;
Supremely happy in the awaken'd power
Of giving joy. Alone, amid the shades,
Still in harmonious intercourse, they lived
The rural day, and talk'd the flowing heart,
Or sigh'd, and look'd unutterable things!

So pass'd their life-a clear, united stream,
By care unruffled; till, in evil hour,
The tempest caught them on the tender walk,
Heedless how far, and where its mazes stray'd;
While, with each other bless'd created love
Still bade eternal Eden smile around.
Presaging instant fate, her bosom heaved
Unwonted sighs; and stealing oft a look
Towards the big gloom, on Celadon her eye
Fell tearful, wetting her disorder'd cheek.
In vain assuring love, and confidence

In Heaven, repress'd her fear; it grew, and shook
Her frame near dissolution. He perceived
The unequal conflict; and, as angels look
On dying saints, his eyes compassion shed,
With love illumined high. "Fear not," he said,
"Sweet innocence! thou stranger to offence
And inward storm! He who yon skies involves
In frowns of darkness, ever smiles on thee
With kind regard. O'er thee the secret shaft
That wastes at midnight, or the undreaded hour
Of noon, flies harmless; and that very voice,
Which thunders terror through the guilty heart,
With tongues of seraphs whispers peace to thine!
'Tis safety to be near thee sure, and thus

To clasp perfection!" From his void embrace-
Mysterious Heaven! that moment to the ground,
A blacken'd corse, was struck the beauteous maid!
But who can paint the lover, as he stood
Pierced by severe amazement, hating life,
Speechless, and fix'd in all the death of wo?
So,-faint resemblance !—on the marble tomb,
The well-dissembled mourner, stooping stands,
For ever silent, and for ever sad.

On the Being of a God.

Thomson.

Retire; the worldshut out;-thy thoughts call home! Imagination's airy wing repress;

Lock up thy senses;-let no passion stir ;-
Wake all to Reason ;-let her reign alone :-
Then, in thy soul's deep silence, and the depth
Of Nature's silence, midnight, thus inquire,
As I have done; and shall inquire no more.
In Nature's channel, thus the questions run.
What am I? and from whence?—I nothing know,
But that I am; and since I am, conclude
Something eternal; had there e'er been nought,
Nought still had been: eternal there must be.
But what eternal ?-Why not human race;
And Adam's ancestor without an end?-
That's hard to be conceived; since every
Of that long-chain'd succession is so frail;
Can every part depend, and not the whole?
Yet grant it true, new difficulties rise;
I'm still quite out at sea, nor see the shore.
Whence earth, and these bright orbs ?-eternal too?—
Grant matter was eternal; still these orbs
Would want some other father; much design
Is seen in all their motions, all their makes;
Design implies intelligence, and art:

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That can't be from themselves-or man; that art
Man scarce can comprehend, could man bestow?
And nothing greater, yet allow'd, than man?-
Who, motion, foreign to the smallest grain,
Shot through vast masses of enormous weight?
Who bade brute matter's restive lump assume

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