And childless mother at the judgment seat Plead trumpet-tongu'd against them!-Here are Who sunk an aged father to the grave; [they
Or, with unkindness hard, and cold disdain, Slighted a brother's suff'rings.-Here are they Whom fraud and skilful treachery long secur'd; Who from the infant virgin tore her dow'r, And ate the orphan's bread; who spent their stores In selfish luxury; or o'er their gold
Prostrate and pale ador'd the useless heap. Here too who stain'd the chaste connubial bed!- Who mix'd the pois'nous bowl;-or broke the ties Of hospitable friendship; and the wretch Whose listless soul, sick with the cares of life, Unsummon'd to the presence of his God Rush'd in with insult rude. How would they joy Once more to visit Earth, and, though oppress'd With all that pain and famine can inflict, Pant up the hill of life? Vain wish! the Judge Pronounces doom eternal on their heads, Perpetual punishment! Seek not to know What punishment! for that th' Almighty will Has hid from mortal eyes: and shall vain man With curious search refin❜d presume to pry Into thy secrets, Father? No! let him With humble patience all thy works adore, And walk in all thy paths; so shall his meed Be great in Heav'n, so haply shall he 'scape Th' immortal worm and never ceasing fire.
But who are they, who bound in tenfold chains Stand horribly aghast? This is that crew Who strove to pull Jehovah from his throne, And in the place of Heaven's eternal King Set up the phantom Chance. For them in vain
Alternate seasons cheer'd the rolling year; In vain the Sun, or herb, tree, fruit, and flow'r Shed genial influence mild; and the pale Moon Repair'd her waning orb.-Next these is plac'd The vile blasphemer; he, whose impious wit Profan'd the sacred mysteries of faith, And 'gainst th' impenetrable walls of Heav'n Planted his feeble battery. By these stands The Arch Apostate: he with many a wile Exhorts them still to foul revolt. Alas! No hope have they from black despair, no ray Shines through the gloom to cheer their sinking In agonies of grief they curse the hour [souls: When first they left Religion's onward way. These on the left are rang'd; but on the right A chosen band appears, who fought beneath The banner of Jehovah, and defied
Satan's united legions. Some, unmov'd
At the grim tyrant's frown, o'er barb'rous climes Diffus'd the Gospel's light: some long immur'd (Sad servitude!) in chains and dungeons pin'd; Or, rack'd with all the agonies of pain,
Breath'd out their faithful lives. Thrice happy they Whom Heav'n elected to that glorious strife!- Here are they plac'd, whose kind munificence Made heaven-born Science raise her drooping head; And on the labours of a future race
Entail'd their just reward. Thou amongst these, Good Seaton! whose well-judg'd benevolence Fost'ring fair Genius, bade the poet's hand Bring annual off'rings to his Maker's shrine, Shalt find the generous care was not in vain.- Here is that fav'rite band, whom mercy mild, God's best-lov'd attribute, adorn'd; whose gate
Stood ever open to the stranger's call; Who fed the hungry; to the thirsty lip
Reach'd out the friendly cup; whose care benign From the rude blast secur'd the pilgrim's side; Who heard the widow's tender tale, and shook The galling shackle from the pris'ner's feet; Who each endearing tie, each office knew Of meek-eyed, heaven-descended Charity. O Charity, thou nymph divinely fair! Sweeter than those whom ancient poets bound In amity's indissoluble chain,
The Graces! how shall I essay to paint Thy charms, celestial maid! and in rude verse Blazon those deeds thyself did'st ne'er reveal? For thee nor rankling Envy can infect, Nor rage transport, nor high o'erweening Pride Puff up with vain conceit: ne'er didst thou smile To see the sinner as a verdant tree
Spread his luxuriant branches o'er the stream; While, like some blasted trunk, the righteous fall Prostrate, forlorn. When prophecies shall fail, When tongues shall cease, when knowledge is no more,
And this great day is come, thou by the throne Shalt sit triumphant. Thither, lovely maid! Bear me, O bear me on thy soaring wing, And through the adamantine gates of Heav'n Conduct my steps, safe from the fiery gulf And dark abyss, where Sin and Satan reign!
But can the Muse, her numbers all too weak, Tell how that restless element of fire
Shall wage with seas and earth intestine war, And deluge all creation? Whether (so
Some think) the comet, as through fields of air
Lawless he wanders, shall rush headlong on Thwarting th' ecliptic, where th' unconscious Earth Rolls in her wonted course; whether the Sun With force centripetal into his orb
Attract her, long reluctant; or the caves, Those dread volcanos, where engend'ring lie Sulphureous minerals, from the dark abyss Pour streams of liquid fire; while from above, As erst on Sodom, Heaven's avenging hand
Rains fierce combustion.-Where are now the Of art, the toil of ages?-Where are now [works Th' imperial cities, sepulchres and domes, Trophies and pillars? Where is Egypt's boast, Those lofty pyramids, which high in air Rear'd their aspiring heads, to distant times Of Memphian's pride a living monument ?— Tell me where Athens rais'd her tow'rs? where Thebes
Open'd her hundred portals!-Tell me where Stood sea-girt Albion? where imperial Rome, Propt by seven hills, sat like a sceptr❜d queen, And aw'd the tributary world to peace ?— Show me the rampart which o'er many a hill, Through many a valley, stretch'd its wide extent, Rais'd by that mighty monarch to repel The roving Tartar, when with insult rude 'Gainst Pekin's tow'rs he bent th' unerring bow. But what is mimic art? E'en Nature's work, Seas, meadows, pastures, the meand'ring streams, And everlasting hills, shall be no more.
No more shall Teneriffe, cloud-piercing height! O'erhang th' Atlantic surge; nor that fam'd cliff, Through which the Persian steer'd with many a sail,
Throw to the Lemnian isle its evening shade O'er half the wide Ægean.-Where are now The Alps, that confin'd with unnumber'd realms, And from the Black Sea to the ocean stream Stretch'd their extended arms ?-Where's Ararat, That hill on which the faithful patriarch's ark, Which seven long months had voyag'd o'er its top, First rested, when the Earth, with all her sons, As now by streaming cataracts of fire,
Was whelm'd by mighty waters ?-All at once Are vanish'd and dissolv'd; no trace remains, No mark of vain distinction: heaven itself, That azure vault, with all those radiant orbs, Sinks in the universal ruin lost:
No more shall planets round their central Sun Move in harmonious dance; no more the Moon Hang out her silver lamp; and those fix'd stars, Spangling the golden canopy of night, Which oft the Tuscan with his optic glass Call'd from their wond'rous height, to read their And magnitude, some winged minister [names Shall quench; and (surest sign that all on Earth Is lost) shall rend from heaven the mystic bow. Such is that awful, that tremendous day, Whose coming who shall tell? For as a thief Unheard, unseen, it steals with silent pace Through night's dark gloom-Perhaps as here I sit, And rudely carol these incondite lays,
[mouth Soon shall the hand be check'd, and dumb the That lisps the falt'ring strain.—O may it ne'er Intrude unwelcome on an ill-spent hour;
But find me wrapt in meditations high, Hymning my great Creator!-
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