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The dying Christian to his Sout.
VITAL spark of heav'nly flame
Quit, oh quit this mortal frame:
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Hark! they whisper ; Angels say,
Steals my senses, shuts my fight,
* This ode was written in imitation of the famous sonnet of Hadrian to his departing foul ; but as much fuperior in sense and sublimity to his original, as the Chriftian Religion is to the Pagan.
With sounds seraphic ring:
O Death! where is thy Sting?