LYRIC POEMS. 265 pares treat the fatal errai back ; But hand in hand ourselves we bind And drag the age along. St Mortals, a savage herd, and loud As billows on a noisy flood, In rapid order roll: Example makes the mischief good; With Jocund heel we beat the road, Unheedful of the goal. Ms let* Ithuriel's friendly wing [lime Snatch from the crowd, and bear sub- To àisdom's lofty tower, 'Thenceto survey that wretched thing, Mankind ; and in exalted rhyme Bless the delivering power. To the Rev. Mr. JOHN HOWE. 1704. 1 GREAT man, permit the muse to climb And seat her at thy feet, Bid her attempt a thought sublime, And consecrate her wit. I feel, I feel th' attractive force Of thy superior soul My chariot flies her upward course, The wheels elivinely roll. Now let me chide the mean affairs And mighty toil of men How they grow gray in trifling cares, Or waste the motions of the spheres Upon delights as vain! a A puff of honour fills the mind, And yellow dust is solid good ; Thus like the ass of savage kind, We snuff the breezes of the wind, Or steal the serpent's food. Could all the choirs That charm the poles But strike one doleful sound, 'Twouid be employ'd to mourn our souls, [fires Souls that were fram'd of sprightly In floods of folly drown'd. Souls made of glory seek a brutal joy ; How they disclaim_tbeir heav'nly birth, [drossy earth, Melt their bright substance down with And hate to be refin'd from that im- pure alloy. 3 Oft has thy genius rous'd us hence With elevated song, Bid us renounce this world of sense, Bid us divide th' immortal prize With the seraphic throng: [blest, "Knowledge and love make-spirits Knowledge their food, and love their rest ;" But flesh, th' unmanageable beast, Resists the pity of thine eyes, And music of thy tongue. Then let the worms of grov'lin mind Round the short joys of earthly kind la restless windings roam ; Howe hath an ample orb of soul, Where shining worlds of knowledge roll, Where love, the centre and the pole, Completes the heav'n at home. s' Ithuriel is the name of as angel in Milton's Paradise Lost. Ths Disappointment and Relief. 1 VIRTUE, permit my fancy to im- pose Upon my better pow'rs: She casts sweet fallacies on half our woes, And gilds the gloomy hours. How could we bear this tedious round Of waning moons, and rolling years, Of flaming hopes, and chilling fears, If, where no sov'reigncure appears, No opiates could be found. 2 Love,the mostcordial streamthatflowsr Is a deceitful good: Young Doris who nor guilt Our dan- ger knows, On thegreen margin stood, Pleas'd with the golden bubbles as they rose, And with more golden sands her fancy pav'd the flood: Then fond to be entirely blest, And tempted by a faithless youth, As void of goodness as of truth, She plunges in with heedless haste, And rears the nether mud: Darkness and nauseous dregs arise O'er thy fair current, love, with large supplies Of pain to teize the heart, and sorrow for the eyes. The golden bliss that cllarm'd her sight Is dash'd, and drown'd, and lost: A spark, or glimmering streakat Shines here and there, amidst the night. [faint delight. Amidst the turbid waves, and gives a 3 Recover'd from the sadsurprise, Doris awakes at last, Grown by the diappointment wise; Andmanages with art th' uuluckycast; When the low'ring frown she spies On her haughty brow, With humble love she meets his wrathful eyes, And makes her sov'reignbeauty bow; Cheerful she smiles upon the grizly form ; ' [skies, So shines the setting sun on adverse And paints a rainbow on the storm. Anon she lets the sullenhumour spend, And with a virtuous book or friend.. Beguiles th 'uneasy hours: Well-colouring ev'ry cross she meets; With heart sereneshe sleeps and eats, She spreads her, board with fáncy'd sweets, And strews her bed with flow'rs. The Hero's School of Morality. 1 THERON, amongst histravels, found A broken statue on the ground; And searching onward, as he went. He trac'd a ruin'd monument. . Mould,moss,andshades had overgrown! The sculpture of the crumbling stone, Yet, ere he past, with much ado, Heguess'd, and spell'dout, Sei -pi -s.
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