She smiles, and with a courteous hand She beckons me away; I feel mine airy powers loose from the cumbrous clay, And with a joyful haste obey Religion's high command. What lengths and heights and depth unknown! Broad fields with blooming glory sown, And seas, and skies, and stars her own, In an unmeasur'd sphere! What heavens of joy, and light serene, A long farewell to all below, Farewell to all that sense can show: Now the swift transports of the mind A thousand loose Pindaric plumes fly scattering down the wind. Amongst the clouds I lose my breath, Can trace the boundless flights of an unfetter'd mind, The following Poems of this Book are peculiarly dedicated to Divine Love'. 'THE HAZARD OF LOVING THE CREATURES. WHERE'ER my fluttering passions rove, I find a lurking snare; 'Tis dangerous to let loose our love Souls whom the tie of friendship binds, Nature has soft but powerful bands, And reason she controls; Thoughtless they act the' Old Serpent's part; What tempting things they be! Lord, how they twine about our heart, And draw it off from thee! Our hasty wills rush blindly on Where rising passion rolls, And thus we make our fette strong To bind our slavish souls. Different ages have their different airs and fashions of writing. It was much more the fashion of the age, when these poems were written, to treat of Divine subjects in the style of Solomon's Song than it is at this day, which will af ford some apology for the writer in his younger years. Dear Sovereign, break these fetters off, God in himself is bliss enough, For we have all in thee. DESIRING TO LOVE CHRIST. COME, let me love: or is my mind And stoop to' embrace me from the skies! O! 'tis a thought would melt a rock, I was a traitor doom'd to fire, Bound to sustain eternal pains; Infinite Grace! Almighty Charms! Did pity ever stoop so low, Again he lives; and spreads his hands, Sure I must love; or are my ears THE HEART GIVEN AWAY. If there are passions in my soul, If love, that pleasing power, can rest Let the gay world, with treacherous art, I feel my warmest passions dead Now I can fix my thoughts above, So Gabriel at his King's command, Flies downward to our worthless land, He glides along by mortal things, MEDITATION IN A GROVE. SWEET Muse, descend and bless the shade, Business, and noise, and day are fled, But hence, ye wanton young and fair, No Phillis shall infect the air With her unhallow'd name. Jesus has all my powers possess'd, My hopes, my fears, my joys: |