Well spent in fuch a ftrife, may earn indeed
And for a time infure to his lov'd land
The sweets of liberty and equal laws;
But martyrs struggle for a brighter prize,
And win it with more pain. Their blood is fhed In confirmation of the nobleft claim,
Our claim to feed upon immortal truth,
To walk with God, to be divinely free, To foar, and to anticipate the fkies.
Yet few remember them. They liv'd unknown Till perfecution dragg'd them into fame,
And chas'd them up to heaven. Their afhes flew -No marble tells us whither. With their names No bard embalms and fanctifies his fong; And History, fo warm on meaner themes, Is cold on this. She execrates indeed The tyranny that doom'd them to the fire, But gives the glorious fuff'rers little praife.*
He is the freeman whom the truth makes free,
And all are flaves befide.
That hellish foes, confed'rate for his harm,
Can wind around him, but he cafts it off With as much ease as Samfon his green wyths. He looks abroad into the varied field
Of Nature, and though poor perhaps, compar'd With those whose mansions glitter in his fight, Calls the delightful scen❜ry all his own.
His are the mountains, and the vallies his, And the resplendent rivers. His t' enjoy With a propriety that none can feel,
But who, with filial confidence infpir'd, Can lift to heav'n an unprefumptuous eye,
And smiling fay-my Father made them all. Are they not his by a peculiar right,
And by an emphasis of int'reft his,
Whofe eye they fill with tears of holy joy,
Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love
That plann'd, and built, and ftill upholds a world So cloath'd with beauty, for rebellious man?
Yes-ye may fill your garners, ye that reap The loaded foil, and ye may wafte much good In fenfelefs riot; but ye will not find In feaft or in the chace, in fong or dance, A liberty like his, who unimpeach'd Of ufurpation, and to no man's wrong, Appropriates nature as his father's work, And has a richer use of yours, than you. He is indeed a freeman. Free by birth Of no mean city, plann'd or 'ere the hills Were built, the fountains open'd, or the fea With all his roaring multitude of waves. His freedom is the fame in every state, And no condition of this changeful life, So manifold in cares, whofe ev'ry day Brings its own evil with it, makes it lefs:
For he has wings that neither fickness, pain,
Nor penury, can cripple or confine.
No nook fo narrow but he spreads them there With eafe, and is at large. Th' oppreffor holds His body bound, but knows not what a range
His spirit takes, unconscious of a chain ; And that to bind him is a vain attempt
Whom God delights in, and in whom he dwells.
Acquaint thyfelf with God, if thou would'st tafte His works. Admitted once to his embrace,
Thou fhalt perceive that thou waft blind before: Thine eye shall be instructed, and thine heart, Made pure, fhall relish, with divine delight
'Till then unfelt, what hands divine have wrought. Brutes graze the mountain-top, with faces prone And eyes intent upon the scanty herb It yields them, or recumbent on its brow, Ruminate heedlefs of the fcene outspread Beneath, beyond, and stretching far away From inland regions to the distant main. Man views it and admires, but refts content
With what he views. The landscape has his praise,
But not its author. Unconcern'd who form❜d
The paradife he fees, he finds it fuch,
And fuch well-pleas'd to find it, asks no more,
Not fo the mind that has been touch'd from heav'n, And in the school of facred wisdom taught
To read his wonders, in whose thought the world, Fair as it is, existed ere it was.
Not for its own fake merely, but for his
Much more who fashion'd it, he gives it praise ; Praise that from earth refulting as it ought To earth's acknowledg'd fov'reign, finds at once Its only just proprietor in Him.
The foul that fees him, or receives fublim'd New faculties, or learns at least t' employ
More worthily the pow'rs fhe own'd before; Difcerns in all things, what with ftupid gaze Of ignorance till then she overlook'd,
A ray Terreftrial in the vaft and the minute,
of heav'nly light gilding all forms
« PreviousContinue » |