Shall shortly shroud my humble head, And mix with them among the dead. I am now reconciling myself to these gloomy abodes. I would grow familiar, I would contract an intimacy with death, in order to meet the grisly phantom with. out consternation. But what I am here contemplating, is only the dark side of the prospect, which disappears whenever my thoughts turn to the bright reverse. Death is then no more a meagre skeleton, followed with a train of terrors, but comes in an angel's form, with a gay retinue of heavenly loves and graces; he comes the kind messenger of my liberty and happiness, with a smiling as pect, beckoning me away from these stormy regions, to the worlds of unclouded light. The scenes of immortality are opened before me; the palm, the starry crown, with all the bright rewards of virtue, appear in view. Oh, when will the happy period come, which ends this mortal story! But my friendship for you shall outlive the date of this transitory existence, and be the same when I am no more, after the formalities of this lower world, Your humble servant, THEOPHILUS. LETTER To Lady X. from a Sylph. You will find this letter on a bank of violets, where I have often the pleasure to seat myself near you unséen; and never fail of being entertained with that vivacity, and innocent wit, that sparkles in your conversation. However negligent you are of your invisible admirer, your earliest part of life has been my care: my services claim the pre-eminence of all my mortal rivals, and give me a right to make my pretensions, before your heart admits an earthly passion. I have followed your early rambles over the flowery lawn, guarded you on the verge of murmuring streams, and screened your beauty from the sultry noon. I have fanned you with my golden plumes, and breathed the fragrance of the spring about you. By me the music of the groves has been improved, while I have joined with the feathered chorus to divert you; the nightingale, for you, has prolonged her melodious strain, and from some flowery spray entertained you with her nightly serenade, These harmless gallantries, instead of molesting, have indulged your tranquillity for mine is an affection suited to your guiltless inclination, and consistent with the most refined virtue. Indeed, this is the superior charm, the powerful attraction, that has gained you a celestial lover; those divine graces, those sparklings of goodness and generosity, that sacred impression of virtue Heaven has stamped on your soul, charm me beyond your lovely person; and yet I view your blooming beauty with delight, and find a guiltless transport in your smiles. I am captivated with those looks of benevolence and peace, which scatter universal joy and alacrity about you. The guiltless gaiety of your temper, and inoffensive wit di vert me. I love to mimic the sweetness of your voice, and repeat the charming accent in a thousand sportive echoes. Were not the view of etherial beauty forbidden to any of mortal race, I might insult all human vanity, and defy the most glorious rival among the sons of men. Was I permitted to appear in the rosy bloom of celestial youth, with my golden zone, my purple wings, and glittering tiara, I should outshine the most splendid birth-night beau. But I am not permitted to convince you of my superiority, till your date of mortal life is expired; and then, if you continue stedfast to the rules of virtue, you shall be mine by all the engagements of celestial love. I will lead you in triumph to the blissful fields, and charming bowers, surpassing the most poetical description of Cyprian groves, or Hesperian gardens. What you call palaces, and magnificent seats, are but dens, but dwellings in the dust, compared to the dazzling habitations of the aerial race. The region is for ever calm, the skies for ever unclouded. No stormy winter enters there, But numbers fail, human language loses its energy, and grows insipid, while I would paint the wonders of the immortal world: Neither can I describe, nor will you be able to conceive those transporting scenes, till the happy time comes when they shall be unveiled in surprising pomp before you. Till then, I am Your invisible admirer, ARIEL. LETTER XI. To Eusebius. Ir is with great pleasure I obey you, in discovering the present situation of my thoughts; since the tranquillity I enjoy in this retirement, is greatly owing to those pious principles you endeavoured to instil into my early youth, na You was well informed of my passion for Lady Dia; nor can you have forgot how many excuses I framed to my father, to prevent his design of sending me into foreign parts, till all events succeeded to my wish, and I was married to the charming maid. But the nuptial pomp was hardly past before death blasted. my happiness, and snatched the lovely prize from my arms. The only way I could then think of, to divert the violence of my grief, was travelling; hoping, by a variety of objects, to efface the painful impression. Accordingly, I made the tour of France and Italy, amusing myself with whatever was grand or entertaining. I conversed with men of sense and merit, and sometimes was favoured with the society of women of distinguished beauty and reputation; I indulged myself in all the little gaieties of life within the limits of reason and mo◄ rality; but nothing could blot the image of my charming wife from my soul. I brought back my affection for the fair departed saint to the mournful mansion where I enjoyed and lost her. But here, leisure and reflection had a better effect than a thoughtless series of diversions. Though my course of life had always been regular, and governed by the rules of sobriety; yet till now I was a stranger (except in form) to any thing of devotion; nor had ever experienced the ineffable satisfaction of a virtuous mind in its secret addresses to the Supreme Being. My soul had not yet reflected on its own grandeur, nor considered itself formed for an infinite and unchangeable felicity. Those grave and sublime authors which were once the useless ornaments of my library, arè now my serious entertainment. By these I have been directed to look beyond all the perishing scenes of nature, to that immutable state of happiness, which, after a short probation, attends the practice of virtue. My thoughts grow calm, my passions appeased, the goods and evils of time vanish into nothing, at the prospect of boundless and immortal pleasure. The great temple of the skies, the spangled arch of heaven, is frequently the place of my devotion; the open view of the gay creation, or the lonely solitude of a wood, inspire me with a sacred warmth. But oh!when the propitious Divinity, by some divine emanation, makes me sensible of his presence, with what contempt do I look back on the lessening world! How tasteless, how insipid, are all its amusements! How calm, how peaceful, in those happy intervals, are the regions of my soul! its wishes are answered, and all its desires appeased. I have enough, I ask no more. Can they languish for the streams, who drink at the overflowing fountain! His benignity is better than life; immortal pleasure is in his smiles; and whom he fa vours must be necessarily blessed. Thus abstract from human things, I converse with the great Spirit of the universe, and, in the rapture of my thoughts, often address him in such soliloquies as these. It is the dignity of my nature, oh Supreme of beings, to adore and praise thee! But how art thou to be extolled by mortal man? The language of paradise, the strains-of immortality, fall short of thy perfections: the first-born sons of light lose themselves in blissful admiration, in search of thy éxcellency; even they with silent ecstasy adore, while, veiled with ineffable splendour, The bright, the blest Divinity is known. And comprehended by himself alone.' Who can conceive the extent of that power, which, out of nothing, brought materials for a rising world, and, from a gloomy chaos, bid the harmonious uni⚫ verse appear! "Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar MILTON. At thy word the pillars of the sky were framed, and its beauteous arches reared; thy breath kindled the stars, adorned the moon with silver rays, and gave the sun its flaming splendour. ་ Thy glory in her silent course the moon, And nightly lamps in their obscure sojourn, The circling 'sun thy greatness manifests; |