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Thy pray'r, thy praise, thy life to vice unknown, In sweet memorial rise before the throne : These charms, success in our bright region find, And force an angel down, to calm thy mind. 191 For this, commission'd, I forsook the sky, Nay, cease to kneel-Thy fellow fervant I.
Then know the truth of government divina, And let these fcruples be no longer thine. 195
The maker juftly claims that world he made, In this the right of providence is laid ; Its sacred majesty thro' all depends, On using second means to work his ends : 'Tis thus, withdrawn in ftate from human eye, The pow'r exerts his attributes on high, 20! Your actions uses, not controuls your will, And bids the doubting sons of men be still.
What ftrange events can strike with more surprize, Than those which lately strook thy wond'ring eyes! Yet, taught by these, confess th'almighty juft, And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust!
The Great, Vain Man, who far'd on costly food, Whose life was too luxurious to be good ; Who made his iv'ry stands with goblets shine, And forc'd his guests to morning draughts of wine, Has, with the Cup, the graceless custom lost, And still he welcomes, but with less of cost.
The mean, suspicious Wretch, whose bolted door Ne'er mov'd in duty to the wand'ring poor; 215
With him I left the cup, to teach his mind
Long had our Pious Friend in virtue trod,
But how had all his fortune felt a wrack, Had that false Servant sped in safety back! 235 This night his treasur'd heaps he meant to steal, And what a fund of charity would fail ! Thus Heaven instructs thy mind: This tryal o'er, Depart in peace, resign, and sin no more.
On founding pinions here the youth withdrew, The Sage stood wond'ring as the Seraph flew. 241 Thus look'd Elisha when, to mount on high, His master took the chariot of the sky;
The fiery pomp ascending left the view;
The bending Hermit here a pray'r begun, Lord! as in beav'n, on earth thy will be done : Then, gladly turning, fought his antient place, And pass’d a life of piety and peace.*
IN N Britain's isle, and Arthur's days,
Liv'd Edwin of the Green ;
Though badly shap'd he been.
* The fable of this elegant, but surely immoral, poem is not the invention of Dr. Parnell, who had it, in all prom bability, from Mores Dialogues. It is a production of the darker ages, and makes the eightyeth chapter of the Gesta Romanorum
His mountain back mote well be said,
And lift itself above;
This creature dar'd to love.
He felt the force of Edith's eyes,
Cou'd ladies look within ;
He had a shape to win.
Edwin (if right I read my song)
All in the moony light;
To revel out the night.
His heart was drear, his hope was cross’d, 'Twas late, 'twas farr, the path was lost
That reach'd the neighbour-town; With weary steps he quits the shades, Resolv'd the darkling dome he treads,
And drops his limbs adown.
But scant he lays him on the floor,
A trembling rocks the ground :
On all the walls around.
Now founding tongues affail his ear,
And now the sounds increase :
Come pranckling o'er the place.
But (trust me, gentles !) never yet
Or half so rich before ;
The town its filken store.
Now whilst he gaz'd, a gallant drest
With awfull accent cry'd;
Has here presum'd to hide ?