The sparkling eye, the sleek and painted breast, The burnish'd scale, curl'd train, and rising crest, All that is lovely in the noxious snake,

Provokes our fear, and bids us flee the brake:
The sting once drawn, his guiltless beauties rise
In pleasing lustre, and detain our eyes;
We view with joy, what once did horror move,
And strong aversion softens into love.

Say then, my muse, whom dismal scenes delight,
Frequent at tombs, and in the realms of night;
Say, melancholy maid, if bold to dare

The last extremes of terror and despair;

Oh say, what change on earth, what heart in man, This blackest moment since the world began.

Ah mournful turn the blissful earth, who late At leisure on her axle roll'd in state; While thousand golden planets new no rest, Still onward in their circling journey prest; A grateful change of seasons some to bring, And sweet vicissitude of fall and spring: Some thro' vast oceans to conduct the keel, And some those watry worlds to sink, or swell: Around her some their splendors to display, And gild her globe with tributary day : This world so great, of joy the bright abode, Heav'n's darling child, and fav'rite of her God, Now looks an exile from her Father's care, Deliver'd o'er to darkness and despair. No sun in radiant glory shines on high; No light, but from the terrors of the sky:

Fall'n are her mountains, her fam'd rivers lost,
And all into a second chaos tost:

One universal ruin spreads abroad;

Nothing is safe beneath the throne of God.

Such, earth, thy fate: what then canst thou afford

To comfort and support thy guilty lord?

Man, haughty lord of all beneath the moon,
How must he bend his soul's ambition down?
Prostrate, the reptile own, and disavow
His boasted stature, and assuming brow?
Claim kindred with the clay, and curse his form,
That speaks distinction from his sister worm?
What dreadful pangs the trembling heart invade?
Lord, why dost thou forsake, whom thou hast made?
Who can sustain thy anger? who can stand
Beneath the terrors of thy lifted hand?

It flies the reach of thought; oh save me Pow'r
Of pow'rs supreme, in that tremendous hour!
Thou who beneath the frown of fate hast stood,
And in thy dreadful agony sweat blood;
Thou, who for me, thro' every throbbing vein,
Hast felt the keenest edge of mortal pain;
Whom death led captive through the realms below,
And taught those horrid mysteries of woe;
Defend me, O my God! Oh save me, Pow'r
Of pow'rs supreme, in that tremendous hour!
From east to west they fly, from pole to line,
Imploring shelter from the wrath divine;
Beg flames to wrap, or whelming seas to sweep,
Or rocks to yawn, compassionately deep:

Seas cast the monster forth to meet his doom,
And rocks but prison up for wrath to come.

So fares a traitor to an earthly crown;

While death sits threat'ning in his prince's frown,
His heart's dismay'd; and now his fears command,
To change his native for a distant land:
Swift orders fly, the king's severe decree

Stands in the channel, and locks up the sea;
The port he seeks, obedient to her lord,
Hurls back the rebel to his lifted sword.

But why this idle toil to paint that day?
This time elaborately thrown away?
Words all in vain pant after the distress,
The height of eloquence would make it less;
Heav'ns! how the good man trembles !—

And is there a Last Day? and must there come A sure, a fix'd, inexorable doom?

Ambition swell, and, thy proud sails to show,
Take all the winds that vanity can blow;
Wealth on a golden mountain blazing stand,
And reach an India forth in either hand;
Spread all thy purple clusters, tempting vine,
And thou, more dreaded foe, bright beauty, shine;
Shine all; in all your charms together rise;
That all, in all your charms, I may despise,
While I mount upward on a strong desire,
Borne, like Elijah, in a car of fire.

In hopes of glory to be quite involv'd!
To smile at death! to long to be dissolv'd!

From 'our decays a pleasure to receive!
And kindle into transport at a grave !
What equals this? And shall the victor now
Boast the proud laurels on his loaded brow?
Religion! Oh thou cherub, heav'nly bright!
Oh joys unmix'd, and fathomless delight!
Thou, Thou art all; nor find I in the whole
Creation aught, but God and my own soul.

For ever then, my soul, thy God adore,
Nor let the brute creation praise him more.
Shall things inanimate my conduct blame,
And flush my conscious cheek with spreading shame?
They all for him pursue, or quit, their end;
The mounting flames their burning pow'r suspend;
In solid heaps th' unfrozen billows stand,
To rest and silence aw'd by his command:
Nay, the dire monsters that infest the flood,
By nature dreadful, and athirst for blood,
His will can calm, their savage tempers bind,
And turn to mild protectors of mankind.
Did not the prophet this great truth maintain
In the deep chambers of the gloomy main;
When darkness round him all her horrors spread,
And the loud ocean bellow'd o'er his head?

When now the thunder roars, the light'ning flies, And all the warring winds tumultuous rise; When now the foaming surges, tost on high, Disclose the sands beneath, and touch the sky; When death draws near, the mariners aghast, Look back with terror on their actions past;

Their courage sickens into deep dismay,

Their hearts, through fear and anguish, melt away;
Nor tears, nor pray'rs, the tempest can appease;
Now they devote their treasure to the seas;
Unload their shatter'd barque, tho' richly fraught,
And think the hopes of life are cheaply bought
With gems and gold; but oh, the storm so high!
Nor gems nor gold the hopes of life can buy.

The trembling prophet then, themselves to save,
They headlong plunge into the briny wave;
Down he descends, and, booming o'er his head,
The billows close; he's number'd with the dead.
(Hear, O ye just! attend, ye virtuous few!
And the bright paths of piety pursue)

Lo! the great Ruler of the world, from high,
Looks smiling down with a propitious eye,
Covers his servant with his gracious hand,
And bids tempestuous nature silent stand;
Commands the peaceful waters to give place,
Or kindly fold him in a soft embrace:
He bridles in the monsters of the deep:
The bridled monsters awful distance keep:
Forget their hunger, while they view their prey;
And guiltless gaze, and round the stranger play.
But still arise new wonders; nature's Lord
Sends forth into the deep his pow'rful word,
And calls the great leviathan: the great

Leviathan attends in all his state;

Exults for joy, and, with a mighty bound,

Makes the sea shake, and heav'n and earth resound

;