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ne their sonorous instruments aloft;

Her point unable to forbear, or gain ; e concert swell, and animate the ball.

So great the pleasure, so profound the plan! ould this appear amazing ? What, then, worlds, A banquet, this, where men and angels meet, a far thinner element sustain'd,

Eat the same manna, mingle Earth and Heaven. ad acting the same part, with greater skill, How distant some of the nocturnal suns ! pre rapid movement, and for noblest ends? So distant (says the sage), 't were not absurd More obvious ends to pass, are not these stars To doubt, if beams, set out at Nature's birth, e seats majestic, proud imperial thrones, Are yet arriv'd at this so foreign world; a which angelic delegates of Heaven,

Though nothing half so rapid as their flight. certain periods, as the Sovereign nods,

An eye of awe and wonder let me roll, scharge high trusts of vengeance, or of love ; And roll for ever : who can satiate sight

clothe, in outward grandeur, grand design, In such a scene? in such an ocean wide ad acts most solemn still more solemnize? Of deep astonishment? where depth, height, breadth, citizens of air ! what ardent thanks,

Are lost in their extremes; and where to count hat full effusion of the grateful heart,

The thick-sown glories in this field of fire, due from man indulg'd in such a sight! Perhaps a seraph's computation fails. sight so noble ! and a sight so kind!

Now, go, Ambition ! boast thy boundless might drops new truths at every new survey !

In conquest o'er the tenth part of a grain. els not Lorenzo something stir within,

And yet Lorenzo calls for miracles, at sweeps away all period ? As these spheres To give his tottering faith a solid base. easure duration, they no less inspire

Why call for less than is already thine ? ne godlike hope of ages without end. (take Thou art no novice in theology ; ne boundless space, through which these rovers What is a miracle ? — 'T is a reproach, teir restless roam, suggests the sister-thought 'T is an implicit satire, on mankind; ?boundless time. Thus, by kind Nature's skill, And while it satisfies, it censures too. - man unlabour'd, that important guest,

To common sense, great Nature's course proclaims ernity, finds entrance at the sight :

A Deity: when mankind falls asleep, ad an eternity, for man ordain'd,

A miracle is sent, as an alarm ; E these his destin'd midnight counsellors,

To wake the world, and prove him o'er again, ze stars, had never whisper'd it to man.

By recent argument, but not more strong. ature informs, but ne'er insults, her sons.

Say, which imports more plenitude of power, Evuld she then kindle the most ardent wish

Or Nature's laws to fur, or to repeal ? » disappoint it?- That is blasphemy.

To make a sun, or stop his mid career ? aus, of thy creed a second article,

To countermand his orders, and send back omentous, as the existence of a God,

The flaming courier to the freighted East, found (as I conceive) where rarely sought :

Warm'd, and astonish'd, at his evening ray; nd thou mayst read thy soul immorlal, here. Or bid the Moon, as with her journey tir'd, Here, then, Lorenzo ! on these glories dwell ; In Ajalon's soft, flowery vale repose ? or want the guilt-illuminated roof,

Great things are these; still greater, to create. hat calls the wretched gay to dark delights. From Adam's bower look down through the whole ssemblies ? - This is one divinely bright;

train ere, unendanger'd in health, wealth, or fame, Of miracles; - resistless is their power? ange through the fairest, and the Sultan scorn. They do not, can not, more amaze the mind, 'e, wise as thou, no crescent holds so fair,

Than this, call d un-miraculous survey, s that, which on his turban awes a world ; If duly weigh’d, if rationally seen, .nd thinks the Moon is proud to copy him. If seen with human eyes. The brute, indeed, ook on her, and gain more than worlds can give, Sees nought but spangles here; the fool, no more. * mind superior to the charms of power.

Say'st thou, “ The course of Nature governs all ?" hou muffled in delusions of this life!

The course of Nature is the art of God. an yonder Moon turn ocean in his bed,

The miracles thou call'st for, this attests; 'rom side to side, in constant ebb and fow, For say, Could Nature Nature's course control ? And purify from stench his watery realms? But miracles apart, who sees him not, And fails her moral influence ? wants she power Nature's Controller, Author, Guide, and End! Co turn Lorenzo's stubborn tide of thought Who turns his eye on Nature's midnight face, Prom stagnating on Earth's infected shore, But must inquire — “ What hand behind the scene, Ind purge from nuisance his corrupted heart? What arm Almighty, put these wheeling globes fails her attraction when it draws to Heaven ? In motion, and wound up the vast machine ? Nay, and to what thou valuest möre, Earth's joy ? Who rounded in his palm these spacious orbs ? Minds elevate, and panting for unseen,

Who bow'd them flaming through the dark profound, And defecate from sense, alone obtain

Numerous as glittering gems of morning-dew, Full relish of existence un-deflower'd,

Or sparks from populous cities in a blaze, The life of life, the zest of worldly bliss :

And set the bosom of old night on fire ? All else on Earth amounts - to what? To this : Peopled her desert, and made horrour smile ?" * Bad to be suffer'd; blessings to be left :" Or, if the military style delights thee, (man) Earth's richest inventory boasts no more,

(For stars have fought their battles, leagu'd with scenes be, then, the call obey'd. « Who marshals this bright host ? enrols their O let me gaze !--Of gazing there 's no end.

names ? O let me think!- Thought too is wilder'd here ; Appoints their post, their marches, and returns In mid-way flight imagination tires;

Punctual at stated periods? Who disbands Yet soon re-prunes her wing to soar anew, These veteran troops, their final duty done,

Of higher

If e'er disbanded ?" - He, whose potent word, O what a genius must inform the skies!
Like the loud trumpet, levy'd first their powers And is Lorenzo's salamander heart
In night's inglorious empire, where they slept Cold, and untouch'd, arnid the sacred fires?
In beds of darkness : arm'd them with fierce flames, O ye nocturnal sparks! ye glowing embers,
Arrang'd, and disciplin'd, and cloth'd in gold; On Heaven's broad hearth! who burn, or bum m
And call’d them out of chaos to the field,

Where now they war with vice and unbelief. Who blaze, or die, as great Jehovah's breath
O let us join this army! joining these,

Or blows you, or forbears: assist my song ; Will give us hearts intrepid, at that hour,

Pour your whole influence; exorcise his heart, When brighter flames shall cut a darker night; So long possést; and bring him back to man. When these strong demonstrations of a God

And is Lorenzo a demurrer still?
Shall hide their heads, or tumble from their spheres, Pride in thy parts provokes thee to contest
And one eternal curtain cover all !

Truths, which, contested, put thy parts to stambe.
Struck at that thought, as new awak’d, I lift Nor shame they more Lorenzo's head than heari,
A more enlighten'd eye, and read the stars A faithless heart, how despicably small !
To man still more propitious; and their aid Too strait aught great, or generous, to receive!
(Though guiltless of idolatry) implore ;

Fill'd with an atom! fill'd, and foul'd, with att?
Nor longer rob them of their noblest name. And self-mistaken! self, that lasts an hour!
O ye dividers of my time! Ye bright

Instincts and passions, of the nobler kind,
Accomptants of my days, and months, and years, Lie suffocated there; or they alone,
In your fair calendar distinctly marked !

Reason apart, would wake high hope ; and open Since that authentic, radiant register,

To ravish'd thought, that intellectual sphere,
Though man inspects it not, stands good against him; Where order, wisdom, goodness, providence,
Since you and years roll on, though man stands Their endless miracles of love display,
still ;

And promise all the truly-great desire.
Teach me my days to number, and apply

The mind that would be happy, must be great; My trembling heart to wisdom ; now beyond Great, in its wishes ; great, in its surveys; All shadow of excuse for fooling on.

Extended views a narrow mind extend; Age smooths our path to prudence ! sweeps aside Push out its corrugate, expansive make, The snares keen appetite and passion spread Which, ere long, more than planets shall embrace To catch stray souls; and woe to that gray head, A man of compass makes a man of port; Whose folly would undo what age has done ! Divine contemplate, and become divine. Aid then, aid, all ye stars ! -- Much rather, thou, As man was made for glory, and for bliss, Great Artist ! thou, whose finger set aright

All littleness is in approach to woe; This exquisite machine, with all its wheels,

Open thy bosom, set thy wishes wide, Though intervolv’d, exact; and pointing out And let in manhood ; let in happiness; Life's rapid and irrevocable flight,

Admit the boundless theatre of thought With such an inder fair as none can miss,

From nothing, up to God; which makes a su Who lifts an eye, nor sleeps till it is closd; Take God from Nature, nothing great is left! Open mine eye, dread Deity! tu read

Man's mind is in a pit, and nothing sees; The tacit doctrine of thy works; to see

Man's heart is in a jakes, and loves the mire Things as they are, un-alter'd through the glass Emerge from thy profound; erect thine eye; Of worldly wishes. Time, eternity !

See thy distress ! how close art thou besieg'd! ('T is these, mis-measured, ruin all mankind) Besieg'd by Nature, the proud sceptic's fee! Set them before me ; let me lay them both

Enclos'd by these innumerable worlds,
In equal scale, and learn their various weight. Sparkling conviction on the darkest mind,
Let time appear a moment, as it is;

As in a golden net of Providence.
And let eternity's full orb, at once,

How art thou caught, sure captive of belief! Turn on my soul, and strike it into Heaven. From this thy blest captivity, what art, When shall I see far more than charms me now ? What blasphemy to reason, sets thee free! Gaze on creation's model in thy breast

This scene is Heaven's indulgent violence : Unveil'd, nor wonder at the transcript more? Canst thou bear up against this tide of glory? When this vile, foreign dust, which smothers all What is earth bosom'd in these ambient orbs That travel Earth's deep vale, shall I shake off ? But, faith in God impos'd, and press'd on man? When shall my soul her incarnation quit,

Dar'st thou still litigate thy desperate cause, And, re-adopted to thy blest embrace,

Spite of these numerous, aweful witnesses, Obtain her apotheosis in thee?

And doubt the deposition of the skies? Dost think, Lorenzo, this is wandering wide ? O how laborious is thy way to ruin ! No, 't is directly striking at the mark;

Laborious ! 't is impracticable quite;
To wake thy dead devotion* was my point ;

To sink beyond a doubl, in this debate,
And how I bless night's consecrating shades, With all his weight of wisdom and of will,
Which to a temple turn an universe ;

And crime flagitious, I defy a fool.
Fill us with great ideas, full of Heaven,

Some wish they did; but no man disbelieves
And antidote the pestilential Earth!

God is a spirit; spirit cannot strike
In every storm, that either frowns, or falls, These gross, material organs; God by man
What an asylum has the soul in prayer!

As much is seen, as man a God can see,
And what a fane is this, in which to pray!

In these astonishing exploits of power.
And what a God must dwell in such a fane ! What order, beauty, motion, distance, site !

Conception of design, how exquisite !
* Page 596.

How complicate, in their divine police !

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Apt means ! great ends! consent to general good! | If in the last, how many knots beside,
Each attribute of these material gods,

Indissoluble all ?- Why choose it there,
So long (and that with specious pleas) ador'd, Where, chosen, still subsist ten thousand more ?
A separate conquest gains o'er rebel thought; Reject it, where, that chosen, all the rest
And leads in triumph the whole mind of man. Dispers’d, leave reason's whole horizon clear ;

Lorenzo! this may seem harangue to thee This is not reason's dictate; reason says, (scale;' Such all is apt to seem, that thwarts our will. • Close with the side where one grain turns the And dost thou, then, demand a simple proof What vast preponderance is here! can reason Of this great master-moral of the skies,

With louder voice exclaim - Believe a God ?' Unskill'd, or dis-inclin'd, to read it there?

And reason heard, is the sole mark of man. Since 't is the basis, and all drops without it, What things impossible must man think true, Take it, in one compact, unbroken chain.

On any other system ! and how strange Such proof insists on an attentive ear;

To disbelieve, through mere credulity !” ’T will not make one amid a moh of thoughts, If, in this chain, Lorenzo finds no flaw, And, for thy notice, struggle with the world. Let it for ever bind him to belief. Retire ; – the world shut out; —thy thoughts call And where the link, in which a flaw he finds ? home;

And, if a God there is, that God how great! Imagination's airy wing repress ;

How great that power, whose providential care Lock up thy senses ; – let no passion stir ;

Through these bright orbs' dark centres darts a ray! Wake all to reason ; - let her reign alone ;

Of Nature universal threads the whole !
Then, in thy soul's deep silence, and the depth And hangs creation, like a precious gem,
Of Nature's silence, midnight, thus inquire, Though little, on the footstool of his throne !
As I have done; and shall inquire no more.

That little gem, how large! a weight let fall In Nature's channel, thus the questions run: From a fix'd star, in ages can it reach “ What am I ? and from whence? – I nothing This distant Earth? Say, then, Lorenzo! where, know

Where ends this mighty building ? Where, begin But that I am ; and, since I conclude

The suburbs of Creation ? Where, the wall Something eternal : had there e'er been nought, Whose battlements look o'er into the vale Nought still had been ; eternal there must be. Of non-existence ? Nothing's strange abode ! But what eternal ? — Why not human race? Say, at what point of space Jehovah dropp'd And Adam's ancestors without an end ?

His slacken'd line, and laid his balance by; That 's hard to be conceiv'd, since every link Weigh'd worlds, and measur'd infinite, no more? Of that long-chain'd succession is so frail.

Where, rears his terminating pillar high Can every part depend, and not the whole ?

Its extra-mundane head? and says, to gods, Yet grant it true ; new difficulties rise ;

In characters illustrious as the Sun, I'm still quite out at sea; nor see the shore. [too? “ I stand, the plan's proud period; I pronounce Whence Earth, and these bright orbs ? Eternal | The work accomplish'd ; the crcation clos'd: Grant matter was eternal; still these orbs

Shout, all ye gods! nor shout, ye gods alone; Would want some other father ;- much design Of all that lives, or, if devoid of life, Is seen in all their motions, all their makes ; That rests, or rolls, ye heights, and depths, resound! Design implies intelligence, and art ;

Resound! resound! ye depths, and heights, reThat can't be from themselves —or man : that art

Man scarce can comprehend, could man bestow ? Hard are those questions ;-answer harder still.
And nothing greater yet allow'd than man. - Is this the sole exploit, the single birth,
Who, motion, foreign to the smallest grain,

The solitary son of power divine ?
Shot through vast masses of enormous weight? Or has th’ Almighty Father, with a breath,
Who bid brute matter's restive lump assume Impregnated the womb of distant space?
Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly? Has he not bid, in various provinces,
Has matter innate motion ? then each atom,

Brother-creations the dark bowels burst
Asserting its indisputable right

Of night primeval ; barren, now, no more? To dance, would form an universe of dust : And he the central sun, transpiercing all Has matter none? Then whence these glorious forms Those giant-generations, which disport, And boundless flights, from shapeless, and repos’d? And dance, as motes, in his meridian ray; Has matter more than motion ? has it thought, That ray withdrawn, benighted, or absorbid, Judgment, and genius ? is it deeply learn'd In that abyss of horrour, whence they sprung ; In mathematics ? Has it fram'd such laws,

While Chaos triumphs, repossest of all Which but to guess, a Newton made immortal ? - Rival creation ravish'd from his throne ? If so, how each sage atom laughs at me,

Chaos! of Nature both the womb, and grave ! Who think a clod inferior to a man!

Think'st thou my scheme, Lorenzo, spreads too If art, to form; and counsel, to conduct;

wide ? And that with greater far than human skill, Is this extravagant ? - No; this is just; Resides not in each block; - a Godhead reigns. Just in conjecture, though 't were false in facl. Grant, then, invisible, eternal, Mind;

If 't is an errour, 't is an errour sprung That granted, all is solvid - But, granting that, From noble root, high thought of the Most-High. Draw I not o'er me a still darker cloud ?

But wherefore errour? who can prove it such ? Grant I not that which I can ne'er conceive ? He that can set Omnipotence a bound. A being without origin, or end !

Can man conceive beyond what God can do? Hail, human liberty! There is no God

Nothing but quite impossible is hard. Yet, why? On either scheme that knot subsists; He summons into being, with like ease, Subsist it must, in God, or human race :

A whole creativing cool is single gráin.

Speaks he the word ? a thousand worlds are born! If learning his chief lesson makes him wise.
A thousand worlds! there's space for millions more; Nor is instruction, here, our only gain;
And in what space can his great fiat fail ?

There dwells a noble pathos in the skies, Condemn me not, cold critic! but indulge Which warms our passions, proselytes our heart The warm imagination : why condemn?

How eloquently shines the glowing Pole! Why not indulge such thoughts, as swell our hearts With what authority it gives its charge, With fuller admiration of that power, (swell ? Remonstrating great truths in style sublime, Who gives our hearts with such high thoughts to Though silent, loud! heard Earth around; abere Why not indulge in his augmented praise ? The planets heard; and not unheard in Hell ; Darts not his glory a still brighter ray,

Hell has her wonder, though too proud to praise. The less is left to chaos, and the realms

Is Earth, then, more infernal ? has she those, Of hideous night, where fancy strays aghast ; Who neither praise (Lorenzo !) nor admire ? And, though most talkative, makes no report? Lorenzo's admiration, pre-engag'd,

Still seems my thought enormous? Think again; Ne'er ask'd the Moon one question; never held Experience 'self shall aid thy lame belief.

Least correspondence with a single star; Glasses (that revelation to the sight!)

Ne'er rear'd an altar to the queen of Heater Have they not led us in the deep disclose

Walking in brightness; or her train ador'd. Of fine-spun Nature, exquisitely small,

Their sublunary rivals have long since And, though demonstrated, still ill-conceiv'd ? Engross'd his whole devotion ; stars malign, If then, on the reverse, the mind would mount Which made the fond astronomer run mad, In magnitude, what mind can mount too far, Darken his intellect, corrupt his heart; To keep the balance, and creation poise ??

Cause him to sacrifice his faine and peace Defect alone can err on such a theme ;

To momentary madness, call's delight. What is too great, if we the cause survey ? Idolater, more gross than ever kiss'd Stupendous Architect ! thou, thou art all !

The lifted hand

to Luna, or pour'd out My soul flies up and down in thoughts of thee,

The blood to Jove ! - O thou, to whom belong And finds herself but at the centre still !

Al sacrifice! O thou Great Jore unfeign'd; I Am, thy name ! existence all thine own!

Divine Instructor! Thy first volume, this, Greation 's nothing; flatter'd much if styl’d For man's perusal; all in capitals ! The thin, the fleeting atmosphere of God." (voice In Moon, and stars (Heaven's golden alphabet

O for the voice - of what ? of whom? - What Emblaz'd to seize the sight; who runs, may re Can answer to my wants, in such ascent,

Who reads, can understand. 'T is unconfind As dares to deem one universe too small ?

To Christian land, or Jewry; fairly writ Tell me, Lorenzo! (for now fancy glows,

In language universal, to mankind : Fir'd in the vortex of Almighty power)

A language, lofty to the learn'd; yet plain Is not this home-creation, in the map

To those that feed the flock, or guide the plough, Of universal Nature, as a speck,

Or, from his husk, strike out the bounding grait, Like fair Britannia in our little ball :

A language, worthy the Great Mind, that speaks. Exceeding fair, and glorious, for its size,

Preface, and comment, to the sacred page!
But, elsewhere, far out-measur’d, far outshone ? Which oft refers its reader to the skies,
In fancy (for the fact beyond us lies)

As pre-supposing his first lesson there,
Canst thou not figure it, an isle, almost

And scripture 'self a fragment, that unread. Too small for notice, in the vast of being;

Stupendous book of wisdom, to the wise; Sever'd by mighty seas of unbuilt space

Stupendous book! and open'd, Night! by thee I'rom other realms ; from ample continents

By thee much open'd, I confess, O Night! Of higher life, where nobler natives dwell; Yet more I wish ; but how shall I prevail ? Less northern, less remote from Deity,

Say, gentle Night! whose modest, maiden beass Glowing beneath the line of the Supreme; Give us a new creation, and present Where souls in excellence make haste, put forth The world's great picture soften'd to the sight; Luxuriant growths ; nor the late autumn wait Nay, kinder far, far more indulgent still, Of human worth, but ripen soon to gods?

Say, thou, whose mild dominion's silver ker Yet why drown fancy in such depths as these ? Unlocks our hemisphere, and sets to view Return, presumptuous rover, and confess

Worlds beyond number ; worlds conceald by des The bounds of man; nor blame them, as too small. Behind the proud, and envious star of noon! Enjoy we not full scope in what is seen?

Canst thou not draw a deeper scene? - And sbor Full ample the dominions of the Sun!

The mighty potentate, to whom belong Pull glorious to behold, how far, how wide These rich regalia pompously display': The matchless monarch, from his flaming throne, To kindle that high hope ? Like him of Uz, Lavish of lustre, throws his beams about him, I gaze around; I search on every side Further, and faster, than a thought can fly, O for a glimpse of him my soul adores ! And feeds his planets with eternal fires !

As the chas'd hart, amid the desert waste, This Heliopolis, by greater far

Pants for the living stream ; for him who made le, Than the proud tyrant of the Nile, was built ; So pants the thirsty soul, amid the blank And he alone, who built it, can destroy,

Of sublunary joys. Say, goddess! whære? Beyond this city, why strays human thought ? Where blazes his bright court? Where burns les One wonderful! enough for man to know !

throne ?

(round One infinite! enough for man to range !

Thou know'st; for thou art near him; by thee, One firmament! enough for man to read!

His grand pavilion, sacred fame reports O what voluminous instruction here !

The sable curtain drawn. If not, can none What page

of wisdom is denied him ? None; Of thy fair daughter-train, so swift of wing,

- Who travel far, discover where he dwells ?

Than man. How various are the works of God! A star his dwelling pointed out below.

But say, what thought ? is reason here cnthron'd, Ye Pleiades! Arcturus! Mazaroth!

And absolute ? or sense in arins against her ? And thou, Orion! of still keener eye !

Have you two lights? or need you no reveald ? Say ye, who guide the wilder'd in the waves, Enjoy your happy realms their golden age? And bring them out of tempest into port!

And had your Eden an abstemious Eve ? On which hand must I bend my course to find him? | Our Eve's fair daughters prove their pedigree, These courtiers keep the secret of their King;

And ask their Adams - Who would not be wise?" I wake whole nights, in vain, to steal it from them. Or, if your mother fell, are you redeem'd ? I wake; and, waking, climb night's radiant And if redeem'd — is your Redeemer scorn'd? scale,

Is this your final residence ? if not, From sphere to sphere; the steps by Nature set Change you your scene, translated ? or by death? For man's ascent; at once to tempt and aid ; And if by death, what death? - Know you disease ? To tempt his eye, and aid his towering thought ; Or horrid war? — With war, this fatal hour, Till it arrives at the great God of all.

Europa groans (so call we a small field, (putes In ardent contemplation's rapid car,

Where kings run mad). In our world, Death deProm Earth, as from iny barrier, I set out. Intemperance to do the work of age, How swift I mount ! diminish'd Earth recedes ; And hanging up the quiver Nature gave him, I pass the Moon ; and, from her farther side, As slow of execution, for dispatch Pierce Heaven's blue curtain ; strike into remote; Sends forth imperial butchers; bids them slay Where, with his lifted tube, the subtle sage Their sheep (the silly sheep they fleec'd before) His artificial, airy journey takes,

And toss him twice ten thousand at a meal. And to celestial lengthens human sight.

Sit all your executioners on thrones ? I pause at every planet on my road,

With you, can rage for plunder make a god ? And ask for him who gives their orbs to roll, And bloodshed wash out every other stain ? Their foreheads fair to shine. From Saturn's ring, But you, perhaps, can't bleed : from matter gross In which, of Earths an army might be lost, Your spirits clean, are delicately clad With the bold comet take my bolder flight,

In fine-spun ether, privileg'd to soar, Amid those sovereign glories of the skies,

Unloaded, uninfected; how unlike Of independent, native lustre, proud ;

The lot of man! How few of human race The souls of systems ! and the lords of life, By their own mud unmurder'd! How we wage Through their wide empires !-What behold I now ? Self-war eternal! Is your painful day A wilderness of wonder burning round;

Of hardy conflict o'er? Or, are you still Where larger suns inhabit higher spheres;

Raw candidates at school? And have you those Perhaps the villas of descending gods ;

Who disaffect reversions, as with us? Nor halt I here; my toil is but begun;

But what are we? You never heard of man; 'Tis but the threshold of the Deity;

Or Earth, the bedlam of the universe ! Or, far beneath it, I am grovelling still.

Where reason (undiseas'd with you) runs mad, Nor is it strange; I built on a mistake ;

And nurses folly's children as her own; · The grandeur of his works, whence folly sought Fond of the foulest. In the sacred mount For aid, to reason sets his glory higher ;

Of holiness, where reason is pronounc'd Who built thus high for worms (mere worms to him) Infallible ; and thunders, like a god ; O where, Lorenzo! must the Builder dwell ? E'en there, by saints, the demons are outdone ;

Pause, then, and, for a moment, here respire What these think wrong, our saints refine to right; If human thought can keep its station here. And kindly teach dull Hell her own black arts; Where am I? Where is Earth ? — Nay, where Satan, instructed, o'er their morals smiles. art thou,

But this, how strange to you, who know not man !
Is the Sun turn'd recluse ? And are Has the least rumour of our race arriv'd ?
His boasted expeditions short to mine ? -

Call’d here Elijah in his faming car ?
To mine, how short! On Nature's alps I stand, Pass'd by you the good Enoch, on his road
And see a thousand firmaments beneath !

To those fair fields, whence Lucifer was hurl'd;
A thousand systems ! as a thousand grains ! Who brush'd, perhaps, your sphere in his descent,
So much a stranger, and so late arriv’d,

Stain'd your pure crystal ether, or let fall How can man's curious spirit not inquire,

A short eclipse from his portentous shade? What are the natives of this world sublime, 0! that the fiend had lodgid on some broad orb of this so foreign, un-terrestrial sphere,

Athwart his way ; nor reach'd his present home, Where mortal, untranslated, never stray'd ? Then blacken’d Earth with footsteps foul'd in Hell, “Oye, as distant from my little home,

Nor wash'd in ocean, as from Rome he pass'd As swiftest sun-beams in an age can fly!

To Britain's isle ; too, too, conspicuous there !" Far from my native element I roam,

But this is all digression : where is he, In quest of new, and wonderful, to man.

That o'er Heaven's battlements the felon hurl'd What province this, of his immense domain, To groans, and chains, and darkness ? Where is he, Whom all obeys? or mortals here, or gods? Who sees creation's summit in a vale ? Ye borderers on the coasts of bliss ! what are you? He, whom, while man is man, he can't but seek; A colony from Heaven? Or, only rais’d, (realms, And if he finds, commences more than man? By frequent visit from Heaven's neighbouring O for a telescope his throne to reach ! To secondary gods, and half-divine?

Tell me, ye learn'd on Earth ! or blest above ! Whate'er your

nature, this is past dispute, Ye searching, ye Newtonian angels ! tell, (where? Far other life you live, far other tongue

Where, your great Master's orb? His planets You talk, far other thought, perhaps, you think, Those conscious satellites, those norning-stars,

O Sun?

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