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Fair Rounds of radiant Points invest his Hair; Celestial Odours breathe thro' purpled Air: And Wings, whose Colours glitter'd on the
Day, Wide at his Back their gradual Plumes dir
play. The Form etherial, bursts upon his Sight, And moves in all the Majesty of Light.
Thoʻloud at firft the Pilgrim's Paffion grew, Sudden he gaz'd, and wist not what to do ; Surprize, in secret Chains, his Words sur
pends, And, in a Calm, his settling Temper ends. But Silence here the beauteous Angel broke, (The Voice of Music ravish'd as he spoke.) 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; For this commiffion'd, I forsook the Sky; Nay, cease to kneel-Thy Fellow Servant I. Then know the Truth of Government di
vine, And let these Scruples be no longer thine.
The Maker justly 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'Tis thus, withdrawn in State from human
Eye, The Pow'r exerts his Attributes on high, Your Actions uses, nor controuls your Will, And bids the doubting Sons of Men be still. What strange Events can strike with more
Surprize, Than those which lately struck thy wond'ring
Eyes? Yet taught by these, confess th’Almighty just, 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 Coft. The mean, fufpicious Wretch, whose bolted
Door, Ne'er mov'd in Duty to the wand'ring Poor; With him I left the Cup, to teach his Mind, That Heav'n can bless, if Mortals will be kind. Conscious of wanting Worth, he views the Bowl, And feels Compassion touch his grateful Soul. Thus Artists melt the fullen Ore of Lead, With heaping Coals of Fire, upon its Head; In the kind Warmth the Metal learns to glow, And, loose from Dross, the Silver runs below.
Long had our pious Friend in Virtue trod, But now the Child half-wean'd his Heart from
God; (Child of his Age) for him he liv'd in Pain, And measur'd back his Steps to Earth again. To what Excesses had his Dotage run? But God, to save the Father, took the Son. To all but thee, in Fits he seem'd to go, (And 'twas my Ministry to deal the Blow.) The poor fond Parent, humbled in the Dust, Now owns, in Tears, the Punishment was
just. But how had all his Fortune felt a Wrack, Had that false Servant sped in Safety back? This Night his treasur’d Heaps he meant to
steal, And what a Fund of Charity wou'd fail ! Thus Heav'n instructs thy Mind; this Trial
o'er, Depart in Peace, resign, and sin no more. On founding Pinions here the Youth with
drew, The Sage stood wond'ring as the Seraph flew. 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 Prophet gaz'd, and wish'd to follow
The bending Hermit here a Pray'r begun, Lord! as in Heav'n, on Earth thy Will be
done. Then gladly turning, fought his ancient Place, And pass’d a Life of Piety and Peace.
The CATTERPILLAR and
HE Morning blush'd with vivid Red,
And Night in fullen Silence filed;
Green as the Leaf on which he lay,
In that nice Moment, prompt to fave,
“ O! turn, advent'rous as thou art,
replies, To which this reptile Form shall rise ; The joyful Season Time shall bring, He bears it on his rapid Wing. An Age there is, when all our Kind Disdain the Ground, and mount the Wind : And shou’d'st thou, Friend, this Age attain (With Haste the Worm reply'd again)