Their wit far brightest will be prov'd,
Who funk it in good sense;
And veneration most profound
Of dread Omnipotence.

"Tis that alone unlocks the gate
Of bleft Eternity;

O! may't thou never, never lofe
That more than * golden key!

Whate'er may feem too rough excuse,
Your good I have at heart:
Since from my foul I wish you well;
As yet we must not part:

Shall you, and I, in love with life,

Life's future fchemes contrive,
The world in wonder not unjust,
That we are still alive?

What have we left? How mean in man
A fhadow's fhade to crave!
When life, fo vain! is vainer ftill,

'Tis time to take your leave:

Happier, than happiest life, is death,

Who falling in the field
Of conflict with his rebel will,

Writes Vici, on his shield;

So falling man, immortal heir

Of an eternal prize;

Undaunted at the gloomy grave,

Defcends into the skies.

* Alluding to Pruffia.

O! how

O! how diforder'd our machine,
When contradictions mix!

When nature ftrikes no less than twelve,
And folly points at fix!

To mend the moments of your heart,

How great is my delight Gently to wind your morals up,

And fet your hand aright!

That hand, which spread your wisdom wide
To poifon diftant lands:
Repent, recant; the tainted age
Your antidote demands;

To Satan dreadfully refign'd,

Whole herds rush down the steep
Of folly, by lewd wits poffefs'd,
And perish in the deep.

Men's praise your vanity pursues ;
'Tis well, purfue it ftill;
But let it be of men deceas'd,
And you'll refign the will;

And how fuperior they to those
At whose applause you aim;

How very far fuperior they
In number, and in name!

POST

POST SCRIPT.

THUS have I written, when to write
No mortal fhould prefume;

Or only write, what none can blame,
Hic jacet-for his tomb:

The public frowns, and cenfures loud
My puerile employ;

Though just the cenfure, if you fmile,
The scandal I enjoy;

But fing no more-no more I fing
Or reaffume the lyre,

Unless vouchfaf'd an humble part
Where Raphael leads the choir:

What myriads fwell the concert loud!
Their golden harps refound
High, as the footstool of the throne,
And deep, as hell profound;

Hell (horrid contrast!) chord and fong
Of raptur'd angels drowns
In felf-will's peal of blafphemies,
And hideous burst of groans;

But drowns them not to me; I hear

Harmonious thunders roll

(In language low of men to speak) From echoing pole to pole!

Whilft this grand chorus shakes the skies"Above, beneath the fun,

Through boundlefs age, by men, by gods,
Jehovah's will be done.”

"Tis done in heaven; whence headlong hurl'd'
Self-will with Satan fell;

And muft from earth be banish'd too,
Or earth's another hell;

Madam! felf-will inflicts your pains:
Self-will's the deadly foe

Which deepens all the dismal fhades,
And points the shafts of woe:

Your debt to nature fully paid,
Now virtue claims her due:
But virtue's cause I need not plead,
'Tis fafe; I write to You:

You know, that virtue's bafis lies
In ever judging right;

And wiping error's clouds away,
Which dim the mental fight:

Why mourn the dead? you wrong

the

grave,

From ftorm that fafe refort;

We are still toffing out at fea,

Our admiral in port.

Was death deny'd, this world, a scene

How dismal and forlorn?

To death we owe, that 'tis to man

A bleffing to be born;

When

When every other bleffing fails,
Or fapp'd by flow decay,

Or, ftorm'd by fudden blasts of fate,
Is fwiftly whirl'd away;

How happy! that no ftorm, or time,
Of death can rob the juft!
None pluck from their unaching heads
Soft pillows in the duft!

Well-pleas'd to bear heaven's darkeft frown,
Your utmost power employ ;

"Tis noble chemistry to turn

Neceffity to joy.

Whate'er the colour of my fate,

My fate shall be my choice:
Determin'd am I, whilft I breathe,
To praife and to rejoice;

What ample caufe! triumphant hope
O rich eternity!

I start not at a world in flames,

Charm'd with one glimpse of thee

And thou! its great inhabitant?
How glorious doft thou shine!

And dart through forrow, danger, death,
A beam of joy divine!

The void of joy (with fome concern

The truth fevere I tell)

Is an impenitent in guilt,
A fool or infidel;