Let Yaith arise, and climb the hills,

“ Testor paternum Numen, et hoc caput And from afar descry

Æquale testor," dixit; et ætheris How distant are his chariot-wheels,

Inclinat ingens culmen, alto And tell how fast they fly.

Desiliitque ruens Olympo. Lo, I behold the scattering shades,

Mortale corpus impiger induit The dawn of Heaven appears,

Artusque nostros, heu tenues nimis The sweet immortal morning spreads

Nimisque viles ! Vindicique
Its blushes round the spheres.

Corda dedit fodienda ferro.
I see the Lord of glory come,
And flaming guards around :

Vitamque morti : Proh dolor! O graves
The skies divide to make him room,

Tonandis iræ ! O Lex satis aspera ! The trumpet shakes the ground.

Mercesque peccati severa

Adamici, vetitique fructus.
I hear the voice, “Ye dead, arise !”
And lo, the graves obey,

Non pæna lenis ! Quò, ruis impotens !
And waking saints with joyful eyes

Quò, Musa ! largas fundere lacrymas, Salute th' expected day.

Bustique divini triumphos They leave the dust, and on the wing

Sacrilego temerare fletu? Rise to the middle air,

Sepone questus, læta Deum cane In shining garments meet their King,

Majore chordà. Psalle sonoriùs And low adore him there.

Ut ferreas Mortis cavernas O may my huinble spirit stand

Et rigidam pepetravit aulam. Among them cloth'd in white !

Sensêre Numen regna feralia, The meanest place at his right hand

Mugit barathrum, contremuit chaos, Is infinite delight

Dirum fremebat rex Gehennæ,
How will our joy and wonder rise,

Perque suum tremebundus orcum.
When our returning King
Shall bear us homeward through the skies

Latè refugit, “ Nil agis, impie,
On Love's triumphant wing !

Mergat vel imis te Phlegethon vadis,
Hoc findet undas fulmen,” inquit,

Et patrios jaculatus ignes.
AD DOMINUM NOSTRUM ET SERVATOREM | Trajecit hostem. Nigra silentia

Umbræque flammas æthereas pavent
JESUM CHRISTUM.

Dudum perosæ, ex quo corusco
ODA.

Præcipites cecidere cælo.
Te, grande Numen, corporis incola,

Immane rugit jam tonitru ; fragor Te, magna magni progenies Patris,

Latè ruinam mandat: ab infimis Nomen verendum nostri Jesu

Lectæque designata genti Vox citharæ, calami sonabunt.

Tartara disjiciuntur antris. Aptentur auro grandisonæ fides,

Heic strata passim vincula, et heic jacent Christi triumphos incipe barbite,

Unci cruenti, tormina mentium Fractosque terrores Averni,

Invisa ; ploratuque vasto
Victum Erebum, domitamque mortem,

Spicula Mors sibi adempta plangit,
Immensa vastos sæcula circulos
Volvêre, blando dum Patris in sinû

En, ut resurgit victor ab ultimo
Toto fruebatur Jehovah

Ditis profundo, curribus aureis Gaudia mille bibens Jesus;

Astricta raptans monstra noctis

Perdomitumque Erebi tyrannum,
Donec superno vidit ab æthere
Adam cadentem, tartara hiantia,

Quanta angelorum gaudia jubilant
Unâque mergendos ruinâ

Victor paternum dum repetit polum ; Heu nimium miseros nepotes !

En qualis ardet, dum beati Vidit minaces vindicis angeli

Limina scandit ovans Olympi! Ignes et ensem, telaque sanguine

Io triumphe plectra seraphica, T'ingenda nostro, dum rapina

Io triumphe Grex Hominum sonet, Spe fremuere Erebæa monstra,

Dum læta quaquaversus ambos
Commota sacras viscera protinus

Astra repercutiunt triumphos.
Sensêre flammas, omnipotens furor
Ebullit, Immensique Amoris

Æthereum calet igne pectus.
“Non tota prorsus gens hominum dabit

SUI-IPSIUS INCREPATIO.
Hosti triumphos : Quid Patris et labor
Dulcisque imago? num peribunt

EPIGRAMMA.
Funditus ? O prius astra cæcis.

CORPORE cur hæres, Wattsi? cur incola terra? * Mergantur undis, et redeat chaos :

Quid cupis indignum, mens habitare lutum? Ant ipse disperdam Satanæ dolos,

Te caro mille malis premit; hinc juvenes gravat Aut ipse disperdar, et isti

artus Sceptra dabo moderanda dextræ.

| Languor, et hinc vegetus crimina sanguis alit.

THE

Cura, amor, ira, dolor mentem malè distrahit; 1 Here I put off the chains of Deatk auceps

My soul too long has worn : Undique adest Satanas retia sæva struens. - Friends, I forbid one groaning breath, Suspice ut æthereum signant tibi nutibus astra

Or tear to wet my urn. Tramitem, et aula vocat parta cruore Dei.

Raphael, behold me all undrest, Te manet Uriel dux; et tibi subjicit alas

Here gently lay this flesh to rest ; Stellatas Seraphin officiosa cohors.

Then mount, and lead the path unknown, Te superûm chorus optat amans, te invitat lesus, Swift I pursue thee, flaming guide, on pinions of “ Huc ades, et nostro tempora conde sinû.”

my own. Verè amat ille lutum quem nec dolor aut Satan

arcet Inde, nec alliciunt Angelus, Astra, Deus.

HUNDREDTH EPIGRAM OF CASIMIRE.

ON SAINT ARDALIO,

Who from a stage-player became a Christian, EXCITATIO CORDIS CŒLUM VERSUS.

and suffered martyrdom. 1694.

Ardalio jeers, and in his comic strains Heu quot sêcla teris carcere corporis,

The mysteries of our bleeding God profanes, Wattsi ? quid refugis limen et exitum?

While his loud laughter shakes the painted scenes. Nec mens æthereum culmen, et atria

Heaven heard, and straight around the smoking Magni Patris anhelitat ?

throne Corpus vile creat mille molestias,

The kindling lightning in thick flashes shone, Circum corda volant et dolor, et metus,

And vengeful thunder murmur'd to be gone. Peccatumque malis durius omnibus

Mercy stood near, and with a smiling brow [you; Cæcas insidias struit.

Calm'd the loud thunder: “ There's no need of Non hoc grata tibi gaudia de solo

Grace shall descend, and the weak man subdue.” Surgunt: Christus abest, deliciæ tuæ, Longè Christus abest, inter et angelos

Grace leaves the skies, and he the stage forsakes, Et picta astra perambulans.

He bows his head down to the martyring axe,

And, as he bows, this gentle farewell speaks ; i Coli summa petas, nec jaculabitur. Iracunda tonans fulmina: Te Deus

* So goes the comedy of life away; Hortatur ; Vacuum tende per aëra

Vain Earth, adieu : Heaven will applaud to day; Pennas nunc homini datas. Strike, courteous tyrant, and conclude the play.”

BREATHING TOWARD THE HEAVENLY

COUNTRY.
CASIMIRE, BOOK 1, op. 19. IMITATED.

WHEN THE PROTESTANT CHURCH AT MONTPELIER WAS

DEMOLISHED BY THE FRENCH KING'S ORDER, TAB
PROTESTANTS LAID STONES UP IN THEIR BURYING-
PLACE ; WHEREON A JESUIT MADE

A LATIN EPIGRAM.

Urit me patriæ decor, &c.
The beauty of my native land

Immortal love inspires;
I burn, I burn with strong desires,
And sigh, and wait the high command.

There glides the Moon her shining way,
And shoots my heart through with a silver ray,

Upward my heart aspires : .
A thousand lamps of golden light
Hung high, in vaulted azure, charm my sight,
And wink and beckon with their amorous fires.
O ye fair glories of my heavenly home,

Bright sentinels who guard my Father's court,
Where all the happy minds resort,

When will my Father's chariot come?
Must ye for ever walk th' ethereal round,
For ever see the mourner lie
An exile of the sky,

A prisoner of the ground ?
Descend, some shining servants from on high,

Build me a hasty tomb;
A grassy turf will raise my head;
The neighbouring lilies dress my bed ;

And shed a sweet perfume.
1 Vide Horat. lib. i. od, 3.

ENGLISHED THUS ;
A HUG'NOT church, once at Montpelier built,
Stood and proclaim'd their madness and their guilt;
Tou long it stood beneath Heaven's angry frown,
Worthy when rising to be thunder'd down.
Lewis, at last, th' avenger of the skies,
Commands, and level with the ground it lies :
The stones dispers'd, their wretched offspring

come,
Gather, and heap them on their fathers' tomb.
Thus the curs'd house falls on the builder's head;
And though beneath the ground their bones are

laid,
Yet the just vengeance still pursues the guilty

THE ANSWER BY A FRENCH PROTESTANT.

ENGLISHED THUS:

A Christian church once at Montpelier stood,
And nobly spoke the builder's zeal for God.
It stood the envy of the fierce dragoon, .
But not deserv'd to be destroy'd so soon : :

Yet Lewis, the wild tyrant of the age,

Shine, thou sweet hour of dear release, Tears down the walls, a victim to his rage.

Shine, from the sky, Young faithful hands pile up the sacred stones

And call me high (Dear monument !) o'er their dead fathers' bones; To mingle with the choirs of glory and of bliss. The stones shall move when the dead fathers rise, Devotion there begins the flight, Start up before the pale destroyer's eyes,

Awakes the song, and guides the way;
And testify his madness to th' avenging skies. There love and zeal divine and bright

Trace out new regions in the world of light,
And scarce the boldest Muse can follow or obey..

I'm in a dream, and Fancy reigns,
TWO HAPPY RIVALS,

She spreads her gay delusive scenes;

Or is the vision true ?
DEVOTION AND THE MUSE.

Behold Religion on her throne.
Wild as the lightning, various as the Moon,

In awful state descending down; (spacious view. Roves my Pindaric song :

And her dominions vast and bright within my Here she glows like burning noon;

She smiles, and with a courteous hand In fiercest fames, and here she plays

She beckons me away;

[clay, Gentle as star-beams on the midnight seas;

I feel mine airy powers loose from the cumbrous Now in a smiling angel's form,

And with a joyful haste obey Anon she rides upon the storm,

Religion's high command. Loud as the noisy thunder, as a deluge strong.

What lengths and heights and depths unknown ! Are my thoughts and wishes free,

Broad fields with blooming glory sown, And know no number nor degree?

And seas, and skies, and stars her own, Such is the Muse : Lo she disdains

In an unmeasur'd sphere! The links and chains,

What heavens of joy, and light serene, Measures and rules, of vulgar strains,

Which nor the rolling Sun has seen, And o'er the laws of harmony a sovereign queen

Where nor the roving Muse has been, she reigns.

That greater traveller! If she roves

A long farewell to all below, By streams or groves

Farewell to all that sense can show, Tuning her pleasures or her pains,

To golden scenes, and flowery fields, My passion keeps her still in sight,

To all the worlds that Fancy builds, My passjon holds an equal flight

And all that poets know. Through Love's or Nature's wide campaigns.

Now the swift transports of the mind If with bold attempt she sings

Leave the fluttering Muse behind, Of the biggest mortal things,

A thousand loose Pindaric plumes fly scattering Tottering thrones and nations slain;

down the wind. Or breaks the fleets of warring kings,

Among the clouds I lose my breath,
While thunders roar

The rapture grows too strong:
From shore to shore,

The feeble powers that Nature gave
My soul sits fast upon her wings, [plain ; Faint and drop downward to the grave.
And sweeps the crimson surge, or scours the purple | Receive their fall, thou treasurer of Death;
Still I attend her as she flies,

I will no more demand my tongue,
Round the broad globe, and all beneath the skies. | Till the gross organ well retin'd

[mind, But when from the meridian star

| Can trace the boundless flights of an unfetterà Long streaks of glory shine,

And raise an equal song.
And Heaven invites her from afar,
She takes the hint, she knows the sign,

The Muse ascends her heavenly car, [divine.
And climbs the steepy path and means the throne THE FOLLOWING POEMS OF THIS BOOK ARE PECULIARLY
Then she leaves my futtering mind

DEDICATED TO
Clogg'd with clay, and unrefind,

DIVINE LOVE.
Lengths of distance far behind:
Virtue lags with heavy wheel;
Faith has wings, but cannot rise,

THE HAZARD OF LOVING THE CREATURES.
Cannot rise, swift and high
As the winged numbers fly,

Where-e'er my flattering passions rove,
And faint Devotion panting lies

I find a lurking snare;
Half way th' ethereal hill.

'Tis dangerous to let loose our love o why is Piety so weak,

Beneath th' Eternal Fair. And yet the Muse so strong ?

Souls whom the tie of friendship binds, When shall these hateful fetters break

And partners of our blood, That have contin'd me long?

Seize a large portion of our minds,
Inward a glowing heat I feel,

And leave the less for God.
A spark of heavenly day;
But earthly vapours damp my zeal,

Nature has soft but powerful bands,

And Reason she controls;
And heavy flesh drags me the downward way.
Faint are the efforts of my will,

While children with their little hands
And mortal passion charms my soul astray. . 1 Hang closest to our souls.

Thoughtless they act thold Serpent's part; Now I can fix my thoughts above, Wbat tempting things they be

| Amidst their flattering charms, Lord, how they twine about our heart,

| Till the dear Lord that hath my love And draw it off from thee'

Shall call me to his arms. Our hasty wills rush blindly on

So Gabriel, at bis King's command, Where rising passion rolls,

From yon celestial hill, And thus we make our fetters strong

Walks downward to our worthless land, To bind our slavish souis.

His soul points upward still. Dear Sovereign, break these fetters off,

He glides along my mortal things, And set our spirits free;

Without a thought of love, God in himself is bliss enough,

Fulfils his task, and spreads his wings For we have all in thee.

To reach the realms above,

All Nature's art shall never cure

Then I could lose successive souls The heavenly pains I found,

Past as the minutes fly; And 'tis beyond all Beauty's power

So billow after billow rolls
To make another wound:

To kiss the shore, and die.
Earthly beauties grow and fade;
Nature heals the wounds she made,

But charms so much divine
Hold a long empire of the heart;
What Hearen has join'd shall never part,

The substance of the following copy, and many of
And Jesus must be mine.

the lines, were sent me by an esteemed friend, In vain the envious shades of night,

Mr. W. Nokes, with a desire that I would form Or flatteries of the day,

them into a Pindaric ode; but I retained his Would veil his image from my sight,

measures, lest I should too much alter his sense,
Or tempt my soul away;
Jesus is all my waking theme,
His lovely form meets every dream

A SIGHT OF CHRIST.
And knows not to depart:
The passion reigns

ANGELS of light, your God and King surround, Through all my veins,

With noble songs; in his exalted flesh And, floating round the crimson stream,

He claims your worship: while his saints on Eartla Still finds him at my heart.

Bless their Redeemer-God with humble tongues. Dwell there, for ever dwell, my love;

Angels with lofty honours crown his head; Here I confine my sense ;

We bowing at his feet, by faith, may feel

His distant influence, and confess his love.
Nor dare my wildest wishes rove
Nor stir a thought from thence.

Once I beheld his face, when beams divine
Amidst thy glories and thy grace

Broke from his eye-lids, and unusual light Let all my remnant-minutes pass;

Wrapt me at once in glory and surprise. Grant, thou Everlasting Fair,

My joyful heart high leaping in my breast Grant my soul a mansion there:

With transport cried, “This is the Christ of God; My soul aspires to see thy face

Then threw my arms around in sweet embrace, Though life should for the vision pay;

And clasp'd, and bow'd adoring low, till I was lost in So rivers run to meet the sea,

While he appears, no other charms can hold him. And lose their nature in th’ embrace.

Or draw my soul, asham'd of former things,

Which no remembrance now deserve or name, Thou art my ocean, thou my God; In thee the passions of the mind

Though with contempt; best in oblivion hid. With joys and freedom unconfin'd

But the bright shrie and presence soon withdrew; Exult, and spread their powers abroad.

I sought him whom I love, but found him not; Not all the glittering things on high

I felt his absence; and with strongest cries Can make my Heaven if thou remove;

Proclaim'd, “ Where Jesus is not, all is vain," I shall be tird, and long to die;

Whether I hold him with a full delight, Life is a pain without thy love:

Or seek him panting with extreme desire, Who could ever bear to be

'Tis he alone can please my wondering soul; Curst with immortality

To hold or seek him is my only choice.
Among the stars, but far from thee?

If he refrain on me to cast his eye
Down from his palace, nor my longing soul
With upward look can spy my dearest Lord
Through his blue pavement, i'll behold him stin

With sweet reflection on the peaceful cross,
MUTUAL LOVE STRONGER THAN DEATH.

All in his blood and anguish groaning deep, Not the rich world of minds above

Gasping and dying there

This sight I ne'er can lose, by it I live: Can pay the mighty debt of love

A quickening virtue from his death inspir'd I owe to Christ my God:

Is life and breath to me; his fesh my food; With pangs which none but he could feel,

His vital blood I drink, and hence my strength. He brought my gailty soul from Hell : Not the first seraji's tongue can tell

I live, I'm strong, and now eternal life The value of his blood.

Beats quick within my breast; my vigorous mind

Spurns the dull Earth, and on her fiery wings Kindly he seiz'd me in his arms,

Reaches the mount of purposes divine,
From the false world's pernicious charms

Counsels of peace betwixt th’ Almighty Three
With force divinely sweet.
Had I ten thousand lives my own,

Conceir'd at once, and sigu'd without debate,

In perfect union of th' Eternal Mind. At his demand,

With vast amaze I see th' unfathum'd thoughts, With cheerful hand,

Infinite schemes, and infinite designs Pd pay the vital treasure down

Of God's own heart, in which he ever rests. In hourly tributes at his feet.

Eternity lies open to my view; But, Saviour, let me taste thy grace

Here the Beginning and the End of all With every fleeting breath;

I can discover; Christ the End of all, And through that Heaven of pleasure pane

And Christ the great Beginning; he my Head, To the cold arms of Death;

My God, my Glory, and my All in All.