Thy glories I abate, Or praise thee with design; Some of thy favours I forget, Or think the merit mine. The very songs I frame, Are faithless to thy cause, And steal the honours of thy name Create my soul anew, Else all my worship's vain; This wretched heart will ne'er be true, Until 'tis form'd again. Descend, celestial fire, And seize me from above, Melt me in flames of pure desire, A sacrifice to love. Let joy and worship spend The remnant of my days, TRUE LEARNING. PARTLY IMITATED FROM A FRENCH SONNET OF M. POIRET. HAPPY the feet that shining Truth has led All beauty, and all light, as in herself she is. Our senses cheat us with the pressing crowds On unenlighten'd souls, and leave them doubly blind. I hate the dust that fierce disputers raise, Touch, heavenly Word, O touch these curious souls; Since I have heard but one soft hint from thee, From all the vain opinions of the schools (That pageantry of knowing fools) I feel my powers releas'd, and stand divinely free. 'Twas this Almighty Word that all things made, The ground of all things, and their head, [stand. The circle where they move, and centre where they Without his aid I have no sure defence, From troops of errors that besiege me round; Infinite Truth! the life of my desires, 'Tis thy fair face alone my spirit burns to see. Speak to my soul, alone, no other hand Retire, my soul, within thyself retire, Away from sense and every outward show: May mount and spread above, surveying all below. The Lord grows lavish of his heavenly light, And sees unutterable things in that unknown abyss. TRUE WISDOM. PRONOUNCE him bless'd, my Muse, whom Wisdom guides In her own path to her own heavenly seat; That rise and roar around, supplant his steady feet. Earth, you may let your golden arrows fly, To lure his soul aside from her eternal rest. Our head-strong lusts, like a young fiery horse, Lord of himself, he rules his wildest thoughts, A plague like reigning passions, and a subject mind. [heart! With those dear charming tempters rooted in the "Tis hard to stand when all the passions move, Hard to awake the eye that passion blinds, To rend and tear out this unhappy love, [finds. That clings so close about our minds, And where the' encnhated soul so sweet a poison Hard; but it may be done. Come, heavenly fire, Come to my breast, and with one powerful ray Melt off my lusts, my fetters: I can bear A while to be a tenant here, But not be chain'd and prison'd in a cage of clay. Heaven is my home, and I must use my wings; I have a soul was made for infinite desires. Loos'd from the earth, my heart is upward flown: Farewell, my friends, and all that once was mine; Nor, should you fix my feet on Cæsar's throne, Crown me, and call the world my own, The gold that binds my brows could ne'er my soul confine. I am the Lord's, and Jesus is my love; [spire. There all my soul shall centre, all my powers con Thus I with angels live; thus half divine I sit on high, nor mind inferior joys: His glory is my great design, That everlasting project all my thought employs. |