Triumphant in His beams who made the day:
When we leave that Sun, and are left by this
(The fate of all who die in stubborn guilt,)
"Tis utter darkness; strictly double death.
We sink by no judicial stroke of Heaven,
But nature's course; as sure as plummets fall.
Since God or man must alter ere they meet,

1280

(Since light and darkness blend not in our sphere) 1285 "Tis manifest, Lorenzo, who must change.

If, then, that double death should prove thy lot, Blame not the bowels of the Deity;

Man shall be bless'd, as far as man permits
Not man alone, all rationals Heaven arms
With an illustrious, but tremendous power,
To counteract its own most gracious ends,
And this of strict necessity, not choice;

1290

That power denied, men, angels, were no more
But passive engines, void of praise or blame.

1295

A nature rational implies the power

Of being bless'd or wretched, as we please;

Else idle Reason would have nought to do,

And he that would be barr'd capacity

Of pain, courts incapacity of bliss.

1300

Heaven wills our happiness, allows our doom;
Invites us ardently, but not compels ;

Heaven but persuades, almighty man decrees.
Man is the maker of immortal fates.

Man falls by man, if finally he falls;

1305

And fall he must, who learns from death alone
The dreadful secret,-that he lives for ever.
Why this to thee-thee yet, perhaps, in doubt
Of second life? but wherefore doubtful still?
Eternal life is Nature's ardent wish;
What ardently we wish we soon believe :
Thy tardy faith declares that wish destroy'd:
What has destroy'd it ?-shall I tell thee what?
When fear'd the future, 'tis no longer wish'd;
And when unwish'd, we strive to disbelieve.

1310

1315

Thus Infidelity our guilt betrays.'

Nor that the sole detection! Blush, Lorenzo !
Blush for hypocrisy, if not for guilt.

The future fear'd?-An infidel, and fear?

Fear what? a dream? a fable?-How thy dread, 1320
Unwilling evidence, and therefore strong,
Affords my cause an undesign'd support!
How Disbelief affirms what it denies !
'It, unawares, asserts immortal life.'-
Surprising Infidelity turns out

A creed and a confession of our sins:
Apostates, thus, are orthodox divines.

1325

Lorenzo! with Lorenzo clash no more, Nor longer a transparent vizor wear. Think'st thou Religion only has her mask? Our infidels are Satan's hypocrites,

1330

Pretend the worst, and, at the bottom, fail.

When visited by thought (thought will intrude,)

Like him they serve, they tremble and believe.
Is there hypocrisy so foul as this?

1335

So fatal to the welfare of the world?

What detestation, what contempt, their due!

And, if unpaid, be thank'd for their escape,

That Christian candour they strive hard to scorn.
If not for that asyium, they might find

1340

A hell on earth, nor scape a worse below.
With insolence and impotence of thought,
Instead of racking fancy to refute,

Reform thy manners, and the truth enjoy.-
But shall I dare confess the dire result?

Can thy proud reason brook so black a brand?
From purer manners to sublimer faith,

Is Nature's unavoidable ascent.

An honest Deist, where the Gospel shines,

Matured to nobler, In the Christian ends.

1350

When that bless'd 'hange arrives, e'en cast aside

This song superfluous: life immortal strikes

Conviction in a flood of light divine,

A Christian dwels, like Uriel,* in the Sun;

Meridian evidence puts doubt to flight,

1355

And ardent hope anticipates the skies,

Of that bright Sun, Lorenzo! scale the sphere:

'Tis easy; it invites thee; it descends

From Heaven, to woo and waft thee whence it came. Read and revere the sacred page, a page

1360

Where triumphs immortality; a page

Which not the whole Creation could produce;
Which not the Conflagration shall destroy :

"Tis printed in the mind of gods for ever,

1365

In Nature's ruins not one letter lost.

In proud disdain of what e'en gods adore,

Dost smile?-Poor wretch! thy guardian angel weeps. Angels and men assent to what I sing;

Wits smile, and thank me for my midnight dream.
How vicious hearts fume frenzy to the brain!
Parts push us on to pride, and pride to shame :
Pert Infidelity is Wit's cockade,

To grace the brazen brow that braves the skies,
By loss of being dreadfully secure.
Lorenzo! if thy doctrine wins the day,

And drives my dreams, defeated, from the field;
If this is all, if earth a final scene,

1370

1375

Take heed: stand fast; be sure to be a knave;
A knave in grain! ne'er deviate to the right.
Shouldst thou be good-how infinite thy loss!
Guilt only makes annihilation gain.

1380

Bless'd scheme! which life deprives of comfort, death Of hope, and which vice only recommends.

If so, where, Infidels! your bate thrown out

To catch weak converts? where your lofty boast 1385 Of zeal for virtue, and of love to man?

Annihilation! I confess in these.

What can reclaim you? dare I hope profound Philosophers the converts of a song?

*Milton's Paradise Lost,

1390

Yet know its title* flatters you, not me ;
Yours be the praise to make my title good;
Mine to bless Heaven, and triumph in your praise.
But since so pestilential your disease,

Though sovereign is the medicine I prescribe,
As yet I'll neither triumph nor despair,

1395

But hope, ere long, my midnight dream will wake
Your hearts, and teach your wisdom-to be wise:
For why should souls immortal, made for bliss,
E'er wish (and wish in vain!) that souls could die?
What ne'er can die, oh! grant to live, and crown 1400
The wish, and aim, and labour of the skies;
Increase, and enter on the joys of Heaven:
Thus shall my title pass a sacred seal,
Receive an imprimatur from above,
While angels shout-an Infidel Reclaim'd!

To close, Lorenzo! spite of all my pains,

1405

Still seems it strange that thou shouldst live for ever?

Is it less strange that thou shouldst live at all?
This is a miracle, and that no more.

Who gave beginning can exclude an end.

1410

Deny thou art; then doubt if thou shalt be.
A miracle with miracles enclosed

Is man! and starts his faith at what is strange?
What less than wonders from the wonderful?
What less than miracles from God can flow?

1415

That that thy wisdom would, unwisely, shun.

If weak thy faith, why choose the harder side?

We nothing know but what is marvellous;
Yet what is marvellous we can't believe.

So weak our reason, and so great our God, *The Infidel Reclaimed.

1425

What most surprises in the sacred page,
Or full as strange, or stranger, must be true.
Faith is not reason's labour, but repose.

To faith and virtue why so backward, man? From hence; the present strongly strikes us all; 1430 The future, faintly: can we, then, be men? If men, Lorenzo! the reverse is right. Reason is man's peculiar; sense the brute's. The present is the scanty realm of Sense; The future, Reason's empire unconfined: On that expending all her godlike power, She plans, provides, expatiates, triumphs, there : There builds her blessings! there expects her praise; And nothing asks of Fortune or of men.

Reason is upright stature in the soul.

1435

1440

And what is Reason? be she thus defined;

Oh! be a man, and strive to be a god.

'For what?' (thou say'st) to damp the joys of life?

No; to give heart and substance to thy joys.

That tyrant, Hope, mark how she domineers;

1445

She bids us quit realities for dreams,

Safety and peace for hazard and alarm.

That tyrant o'er the tyrants of the soul,

1450

1455

She bids Ambition quit its taken prize,
Spurn the luxuriant branch on which it sits,
Though bearing crowns, to spring at distant game,
And plunge in toils and dangers-for repose.
If hope precarious, and of things, when gain'd,
Of little moment and as little stay,
Can sweeten toils and dangers into joys;
What then that hope which nothing can defeat,
Our leave unask'd? rich hope of boundless bliss!
Bliss past man's power to paint it, Time's to close '
This hope is earth's most estimaɔle prize;
This is man's portion, while no more than man: 1460
Hope, of all passions, most befriends us here;
Passions of prouder name befriends us less.

Joy has her tears, and transport has her death: