« ZurückWeiter »
UPON THE CIRCUMCISION.
YE flaming Powers, and winged Warriors bright,
He who with all Heaven's heraldry whilere
Sore doth begin
His infancy to seize !
O more exceeding love, or law more just?
And that great covenant which we still transgress
And the full wrath beside
Of vengeful justice bore for our excess,
And seals obedience first with wounding smart
This day; but oh! ere long,
Huge pangs and strong
Will pierce more near his heart.
EREWHILE of music, and ethereal mirth,
In wintry solstice like the shorten'd light
For now to sorrow must I tune my song,
And set my harp to notes of saddest woe,
Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long,
Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so,
Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight
Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wight!
He, sovran Priest, stooping his regal head,
That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes,
His starry front low-roof'd beneath the skies:
Oh, what a mask was there, what a disguise!
Yet more the stroke of death he must abide ;
These latest scenes confine my roving verse:
His godlike acts, and his temptations fierce,
Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things.
Befriend me, Night, best patroness of grief!
That heaven and earth are colour'd with my woe
The leaves should all be black whereon I write,
See, see the chariot, and those rushing wheels,
To bear me where the towers of Salem stood,
Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock
For sure so well instructed are my tears
Or, should I thence, hurried on viewless wing,
Might think the infection of my sorrows loud
Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud.
This Subject the Author finding to be above the years he had when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied with what was begun, left it unfinished.
FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race:
Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace;
So little is our loss,
So little is thy gain!
For, when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd,
And, last of all, thy greedy self consumed,
Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss
With an individual kiss,
And Joy shall overtake us as a flood;
When every thing that is sincerely good,
And perfectly divine,
With Truth, and Peace, and Love, shall ever shine
Of him, to whose happy-making sight alone
When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb,
Then, all this earthy grossness quit,
Attired with stars we shall for ever sit,
Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, O Time!
AT A SOLEMN MUSIC.
BLEST pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy,
With saintly shout and solemn jubilee ;
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row
With those just Spirits that wear victorious palms,
Singing everlastingly :
That we on Earth, with undiscording voice,
As once we did, till disproportion'd sin
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din
To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd
In first obedience, and their state of good.
O, may we soon again renew that song,
And keep in tune with Heaven, till God ere long
To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light!
SONG ON MAY MORNING.
Now the bright morning star, Day's harbinger,
Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire