The same dear hand brought out the royal vest,
The same dear hand their naked bodies dress'd;
Their former garments, left to hang the while,
Sacred to Faith, a monumental pile;

Not, in neglected absence, to consume,
Unransom'd; but, at nature's general doom,

To rise, in form renew'd, in beauty whole,
And fitted to receive th' immortal soul.
Blest union that, which nothing can divide,

Where all desires are one, and all supplied!

VII.

Fair army, these are they who stand array'd,

In Faith's own armour, for the true crusade!

Not, like the motley tribes, which Europe pour'd

O'er Asia's plains, a desolating horde,

To taint, with frightful woes, a holy land,

And grasp the tomb of Christ with murderous hand!

Abhorr'd, and still despis'd, as once abhorr'd;

To sell their birthright for a fool's reward,

To leave their country, countrymen, and kind,
For joys, as earth-born as they left behind!
A poor exchange, at best, if held secure;
But that too lost, is something worse than poor!
And such is earth's best portion, when obtain'd,
So dearly purchas'd, so corrupt when gain'd.

-Might but her victims learn her treach'rous state,

Ere made to know, when knowledge comes too late !—

How wiser they, and more divinely taught,

Who think, ere forc'd to rue neglect of thought!
Taught to behold the fair and fragile form

Of life, a flow'r unshelter'd from the storm;

Ev'n earth itself, with all its outward bloom,
A shining Eden, varnishing a tomb,

A cover'd ambush, lurking for its prey;

And pois'nous asps are in that flow'ry way,

C

And swift destruction, only shunn'd by flight,

Thrice happy! tho' thro' tempests and at night,

In weakness and in want, that journey lie,

Restless of rest, while short of youder sky!

VIII.

And oh-when Faith hath shown the promis'd land, What numbers join to follow her command!

These eyes as soon could count the sandy beach, The starry heav'ns, the particles of each;

As, in such hosts, discern the names of those,

Whom faith conducts to face her battling foes.
Yet, in compassion to our want, is giv'n

One leaf of that bright volume, writ in heav'n,
Where, ere creation's sun arose to sight,

They blaz'd, in lines of uncreated light.

-First of the list, young Abel, child of grace!

Obey'd her call, and triumph'd in the race.

Stoop'd to his cross-a brother's stern disdain;
Endur'd the stroke, and did not strike again.
On earth he left his record, seal'd with gore,
And suffer'd death to live for evermore.

-Next Enoch, in his days, a pilgrim trod,
Alone-yet not so, for he walk'd with God.

He walk'd, but saw him not; by Faith reveal'd,
The Angel of his presence held the shield.
"Thou art my guardian, and my guide," said he,
"Lead where thou wilt, I still will follow thee!"
God prov'd his faithfulness, and upward flew;
The prophet kept his hold, and mounted too.

-When, o'er the topmost hills, the swelling wave Heav'd earth's last relics, rescued from the grave, Shook at his helm, awhile the patriarch stood, Appall'd, and trembling for his ark of wood.

Till, cheer'd by Faith, he blush'd at vain alarms, And felt, beneath, the everlasting arms.

-So Terah's son all meaner cares forgot,

When, from his native fields, and father's cot,

To distant lands he journey'd, and denied
All outward succour, but his heav'nly guide.
There, where, in after times, the shepherd youth,
David, and David's Lord confirm'd the truth,
Before his sight the barb'rous gentile reign'd,

And horrid rites the promis'd land prophan'd.

Yet still he trusted in the fix'd event,

And journey'd still, a pilgrim in his tent.

IX.

From sire to son the gracious act descends,

And Faith shines clearer, as the gloom extends.

Clear in chaste Isaac, on his dying bed;

In Jacob clearer, destitute of bread.

Till, rising slowly, like the full-orb'd moon,

She pour'd the blazing majesty of noon,