He that, long-fafting, would no wonder show,
Made loaves and fishes, as they eat them, grow.
Of all his pow'r, which boundless was above,
Here he us'd none, but to express his love:
And fuch a love would make our joy exceed,
Not when our own, but other mouthɛ, we feed.
Laws would be useless, which rude nature awe; Love, changing nature, would prevent the law : Tigers, and lions, into dens we thrust;
But milder creatures with their freedom trust.
Devils are chain'd, and tremble; but the Spouse
No force, but love, nor bond, but bounty, knows.
Men, (whom we now fo fierce, and dang’rous fee)
Would guardian Angels to each other be:
Such wonders can this mighty love perform ;
Vultures to doves, wolves into lambs transform!
Love, what ISAIAH prophefy'd, can do,
Exalt the valleys, lay the mountains low;
Humble the lofty, the dejected aife,
Smooth, and make straight, our rough and crooked
Love, strong as death, and like it, levels all; [ways.
With that poffeft, the great in title fall:
Themselves efteem but equal to the least,
Whom heav'n with that high character has blest.
This love, the center of our union, can
Alone beftow complete repofe on man :
Tame his wild appetite, make inward peace,
And foreign ftrife among the nations cease.
No martial trumpet fhould disturb our reft,
Nor Princes arm, tho' to fubdue the east;
Where for the Tomb, fo many Heroes (taught
By thofe that guided their devotion) fought.
Thrice-happy we, could we like ardor have
To gain his love, as they to win his grave!
Love as he lov'd! A love fo unconfin'd,
With arms extended, would embrace mankind.
Self-love would cease, or be dilated, when
We should behold as many felfs, as men :
All of one family, in blood ally'd,
His pretious blood, that for our ransom dy'd!
CANTO VI.
HO' the creation (fo divinely taught!
Prints fuch a lively image on our thought,
That the first spark of new-created light,
From chaos ftrook, affects our prefent fight:
Yet, the firft Chriftians did efteem more bleft,
The day of rifing, than the day of reft;
That ev'ry week might new occafion give.
To make his triumph in their mem'ry live.
Then, let our Mufe compofe a facred charm,
To keep his blood, among us, ever warm:
And finging as the Bieffed do above,
With our last breath dilate this flame of love.
But, on fo vaft a subject; who can find
Words that may reach th' ideas of his mind?
Our language fails: or, if it could supply,
What mortal thought can raise itself so high?
Defpairing here, we might abandon art,
And only hope to have it in our heart.
But, tho' we find this facred task too hard,
Yet the defign, th' endeavour, brings reward,
The contemplation does fufpend our woe,
And make a truce with all the ills we know.
AS SAUL'S afflicted fpirit, from the found
Of DAVID's harp, a prefent folace found:
So, on his theme while we our Mufe engage,
No wounds are felt, of fortune, or of age.
On divine love to meditate is peace,
And makes all care of meaner things to cease.
Amaz'd at once, and comforted, to find
A boundless Pow'r fo infinitely kind;
The foul contending to that light to flie
From her dark cell, we practice how to die:
Employing thus the poet's winged art,
To reach this love, and grave it in our heart.
Joy fo complete, fo folid, and fevere,
Would leave no place for meaner pleasures there:
Pale the would look, as ftars that must be gone,
When from the east the rifing fun comes on.
HE fear of God is freedom, joy, and peace;
And makes all ills that vex us here to cease: Tho' the word, Fear, fome men may ill indure, "Tis fuch a fear, as only makes fecure,
Ask of no Angel to reveal thy fate;
Look in thy heart, the mirror of thy state.
He that invites will not th' invited mock;
Op'ning to all, that do in earnest knock.
Our hopes are all well-grounded on this fear;
All our affurance rolls upon that sphere.
This fear, that drives all other fears away,
Shall be my fong; the morning of our day!
Where that fear is, there's nothing to be fear'd;
It brings from heav'n an Angel for a guard :
Tranquillity, and peace, this fear does give ;
Hell gapes for thofe that do without it live.
It is a beam, which he on man lets fall,
Of light; by which he made, and governs, all.
'Tis GoD alone fhould not offended be;
But we please others, as more great than he.
For a good cause, the fufferings of man
May well be born: 'tis more than Angels can.
Man, fince his fall, in no mean station rests,
Above the Angels, or below the beasts.
He with true joy their hearts does only fill,
That thirst, and hunger, to perform his will.
Others, tho' rich, fhall in this world be vext;
And fadly live, in terror of the next.
The world's great conqu'ror would his point purfue;
And wept
because he could not find a new:
Which had he done, yet still he would have cry'd ;
To make him work, until a third he spy'd.
Ambition, avarice, will nothing owe
To heav'n itfelf, unless it make them grow.
Tho' richly fed, man's care does still exceed :
Has but one mouth, yet would a thousand feed.
In wealth, and honor, by fuch men possest,
If it increase not, there is found no rest.
All their delight is while their with comes in ;
Sad when it stops, as there had nothing been.
'Tis ftrange, men fhould neglect their prefent ftore,
And take no joy, but in purfuing more;
No! tho' arriv'd at all the world can aim:
This is the mark, and glory, of our frame.
A foul capacious of the Deity,
Nothing, but he that made, can satisfy.
A thousand worlds, if we with him compare,
Lefs than fo many drops of water are.
Men take no pleasure, but in new designs :
And what they hope for, what they have, out-fhines.
Our sheep, and oxen, feem no more to crave;
With full content feeding on what they have:
Vex not themselves for an increase of store;
But think to-morrow we fhall give them more.
What we from day to day receive from heav'n,
They do from us expect it fhould be giv'n.
We made them not, yet they on us rely;
More than vain men upon the Deity:
More beafts than they that will not understand,
That we are fed from his immediate hand.
Man, that in him has Being, moyes, and lives,
What can he have, or use, but what he gives?
So that no bread can nourishment afford,
Or useful be, without his facred Word.
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