A voice, defcending from on high,
Reprov'd my erring fear.
"What tho' the fwelling furge thou fee
Impatient to devour;
Reft, mortal, reft on God's decree,
And thankful own his pow'r."
Know when he bade the deep appear,
"Thus far," th' Almighty faid,
"Thus far, no farther, rage; and here
"Let thy proud waves be ftay'd."
I heard; and lo; at once controll'd
The waves in wild retreat
Back on themselves reluctant roll'd,
And murm'ring left my feet.
Deeps to affembling deeps in vain
Once more the fignal gave:
The fhores the rufhing weight fuftain,
And check'd th' ufurping wave.
Convinc'd, in Nature's volume wife.
The imag'd truth I read ;
And fudden from my waking eyes
Th' inftructive vifion fled.
Then why thus heavy, O my foul!
Say why, diftrustful still,
Thy thoughts with vain impatience roll
O'er scenes of future ill ?
Let faith fupprefs each rifing fear,
Each anxious doubt exclude ;
Thy maker's will has plac'd thee here,
A Maker wife and good!
He to thy ev'ry trial knows
Its juft reftraint to give ;
Attentive to behold thy woes,
And faithful to relieve.
Then why thus heavy, O my foul?
Say why, diftrustful ftill,
Thy thoughts with vain impatience roll
O'er fcenes of future ill?
Though griefs unnumbered throng thee round,
Still in thy God confide,
Whofe finger marks the feas their bound,
And curbs the headlong tide.
The Youth and the Philosopher.
A GRECIAN youth of talents rare,
Whom Plato's philofophic care
Had form'd for virtue's nobler view,
By precept and example too,
Would often boaft his matchlefs fkill,
To curb the fteed, and guide the wheel;
And as he pafs'd the gazing throng,
With graceful eafe, and fmack'd the thong,
The ideot wonder they exprefs'd,
Was praife and transport to his breast.
At length, quite vain, he needs would fhow
His mafter what his art could do;
And bade his flaves the chariot lead
To Academus' facred fhade.
The trembling grove confefs'd its fright,
The wood nymphs ftarted at the fight;
The raufes drop the learned lyre,
And to their inmoft fhades retire.
Howe'er, the youth, with forward air,
Bows to the fage, and mounts the car.
The lash resounds, the courfers fpring,
The chariot marks the rolling ring;
And gath'ring crowds, with eager eyes,
And fhouts, pursue him as he flies.
Triumphant to the gaol return'd
With nobler thirft his bofom burn'd;
And now along th' indented plain
The felf fame track he marks again,
Purfues with care the nice defign,
Nor ever deviates from the line.
Amazement feiz'd the circling crowd;
The youths with emulation glow'd;
Ev'n bearded fages hail'd the boy;
And all but Plato gaz'd with joy.
For he, deep judging fage, beheld
With pain the triumphs of the field :
And when the charioteer drew nigh,
And, flufh'd with hope, had caught his eye,
"Alas! unhappy youth," he cry'd,
Expect no praife from me," (and figh'd.) "With indignation I furvey
Such skill and judgment thrown away.
The time profufely fquander'd there,
On vulgar arts beneath thy care,
If well employ'd, at lefs expenfe,
Had taught thee honour, virtue, fense;
And rais'd thee from a coachman's fate
To govern men, and guide the state."
Discourse between Adam and Eve, retiring to Rest.
Now came ftill evening on, and twilight gray
Had in her fober liv'ry all things clad.
Silence accompanied; for beaft and bird,
'They to their graffy couch, these to their nefts
Were flunk; all but the wakeful nightingale.
She all night long her am'rous defcant fung:
Silence was pleas'd. Now glow'd the firmament
With living fapphires: Hefperus, that led
The ftarry hoft, rode brighteft, till the moon,
Rifing in clouded majefty, at length,
Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her filver mantle threw.
When Adam thus to Eve: "Fair confort, th' hour
Of night, and all things now retir'd to rest,
Mind us of like repofe; fince God hath set
Labour and reft, as day and night, to men
Succeffive; and the timely dew of fleep,
Now falling with foft flumb'rous weight, inclines
Our eyelids. Other creatures all day long
Rove idle, unemploy'd, and lefs need reft:
Man hath his daily work of body or of mind
Appointed, which declares his dignity,
And the regard of Heav'n on all his ways;
While other animals unactive range,
And of their doings God takes no account.
Tomorrow, ere fresh Morning ftreak the east
With first approach of light, we must be risen,
And at our pleasant labour; to reform
Yon flow'ry arbours, yonder alleys green,
Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown,
That mock our feant manuring, and require
More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth.
Those bloffoms alfo, and thofe dropping gums,
That lie beftrown, unfightly and unfmooth'd,
Afk riddance, if we mean to tread with ease.
Meanwhile, as Nature wills, night bids us rest."
To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorn'd;
"My author and difpofer, what thou bidft
Unargu'd I obey; fo God ordains.
With thee converfing I forget all time;
All feafons and their change all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rifing fweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the fun
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flow'r,
Glift'ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After foft fhow'rs; and fweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild; then filent night,
With this her folemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heav'n, her starry train :
But neither breath of mórn, when fhe afcends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rifing fun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flow'r,
Glift'ring with dew; nor fragrance after show'rs;
Nor grateful evening mild; nor filent night
With this her folemn bird; nor walk by moon,
Or glitt'ring ftar-light,-without thee is fweet.
But wherefore all night long fhine these? for whom
This glorious fight, when fleep hath shut all eyes ?"
To whom our gen'ral ancestor reply'd
"Daughter of God and man, accomplish'd Eve,
Thefe have their courfe to finifh round the earth,
By morrow-ev'ning; and from land to land
In order, though to nations yet unborn,
Min'ftring light prepar'd, they fet and rife;
Left total darknefs fhould by night regain
Her old poffeffion, and extinguish life
In nature and all things; which these soft fires
Not only enlighten, but, with kindly heat
Of virtuous influence, foment and warm,
Temper or nourish; or in part fhed down
Their fteller virtue on all kinds that grow
On earth, made hereby apter to receive
Perfection from the fun's more potent ray.
These then, though unbeheld in deep of night,
Shine not in vain; nor think, though men were none,
That heav'n would want fpectators, God want praise :
Millions of fpiritual creatures walk the earth
Unfeen, both when we wake, and when we fleep.
All thefe with ceafelefs praise his works behold,
Both day and night. How often, from the fteep
Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard
Celestial voices to the midnight air,
Sole, or refponfive each to others' note,
Singing their great Creator? Oft in bands,
While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk
With heav'nly touch of inftrumental founds,
In full harmonic number join'd, their fongs
Divide the night, and lift cur thoughts to heav'n."
Thus talking hand in hand alone they pafs'd
On to their blifsful bow'r..
There arriv'd, both ftood,
Both turn'd; and under open sky ador'd
The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heav'n,
Which they beheld, the moon's refplendent globe,
And ftarry pole. Thou alfo mad'ft the night,
Maker omnipotent, and thou the day,
Which we, in our appointed work employ'd,
Have finish'd, happy in our mutual help,
And mutual love, the crown of all our blifs
Ordain'd by thee; and this delicious place
For us too large, where thy abundance wants
Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground.
But thou haft promis'd from us two a race,
To fill the earth, who fhall with us extol
Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake,
And when we feek, as now, thy gift of fleep.
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