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3. Immensa vastos fæcula circulos
Volvêre, blando dum patris in finû
Toto fruebatur Jehovah
Gaudia milie hibens Jesus;

4. Donec fuperno vidit ab æthere
Adam cadentem, tartara hiantia,
Unâque mergendos ruinâ
Heu nimium miseros nepotes:

5. Vidit minaces vindicis angeli
Ignes et ensem, telaque sanguine
Tingenda noftro, dum rapinæ
Spe fremuere Erebæa monstra.

6. Commota sacras viscera protinus
Sensêre flammas, Omnipotens furor
Ebullit, immenfique amoris
Æthereum calet igne pectus.

7. “Non tota prorsus gens hominum dabit “ Hofti triumphos : quid patris et labor

Dulcisque inago? num peribunt " Fundicus? O prius astra cæcis.

8.“ Mergantur undis, et redeat chaos; “Aut ipse disperdam Satanæ dolos, “ Aut ipse disperdar, et isti Sceptra dabo moderanda dextræ. 9. “ Tesor paternum numen, et hoc caput

Æquale testor,” dixit; et ätheris Inclinat ingens culmen, alto Desiliitque ruens Olympo.

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10. Mortale corpus impiger induit
Artusque noftros, heu tenues nimis
Nimisque viles! vindicique
Corda dedit fodienda ferro.

11. Vitamque morti; proh dolor! O graves
Tonantis iræ! O lex satis afpera!
Mercefque peccati severa
Adamici, vetitique fructus.

12. Non pæna lenis quò ruis impotens!
Quò Musa! largas fundere lachrymas,
Bustique divini triumphos
Sacrilego temerare fetu?

13. Sepone questus, læta Deum cane
Majore chordâ. Pfalle sonoriùs
Ut ferreas mortis cavernas
Et rigidam penetravit aulam.

14. Sensêre numen regna seralia,
Mugit barathrum, contrenuit chaos,
Dirùm; fremebat rex Gehennæ,
Perque fuum tremebundus orcum.

15. Late refugit, “Nil agis impie, “Mergat vel imis te Phlegethon vadis, “ Hoc findet undas fulmen," inquit, Et patrios jaculatus igne.

16. Trajecit hoftem. Nigra filentia Umbræque flammas æthercas pavent Dudum perofæ, ex quo corusco Præcipites cecidere cælo.

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17. Immane rugit jam tonitru; fragor
Latè ruinam mandat : ab infimis
Ledæque defignata genti
Tartara disjiciuntur antris.

18. Heic strata paflim vincula, et heic jacent
Unci cruenti, tormina mentium
Invisa; ploratuque vasto
Spicola mor3 fibi adempta plangit.

19. En, ut resurgit victor ab ultimo
Ditis profundo, curribus aureis
Astrida raptans nionstra nociis
Perdomitumque Erebi tyrannum.

20. Quanta angelorum gaudia jubilant
Victor paternum dum repetit polum?
En qualis ardet, dum beati
Limina scandit ovans Olympi!

21. lo triumphe plectra seraphica,
Io triumphe grex hominum fonet,
Dum læta quaquaversus ambos
Aftra repercutiunt triumphos.

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Sui-ipfius increpatio. Epigramma. CORPORE cur hæres, Wattâ ? cur incola terræ ? Quid cupis indignum, mens habitare lutum? Te caro mille malis premit; hinc juvenes gravat artus Languor, et hinc vegetus crimina fanguis alit. Cura, amor, ira, dolor, mentem malè diftrahit; auceps Undique adeft Satanas retia fæva fruens.

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Suspice ut Æthereum signant tibi nutibus aftra
Tramitem, et aula vocat parta cruore Dei.
Te manet Uriel dux, et tibi subjicit alas
Stellatas seraphîn officiosa cohors.
Te superûm chorus optat amans, te invitat Jesus,
“Huc ades et nostro tempora conde finů.”
Verè amat ille lutum quem nec dolor aut Satan arcet
Inde, nec alliciunt angelus, afra, Deus.

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Excitatio cordis cælum verfus, 1694.

Heu quod sêcla teris carcere corporis,
Wattfi? quid refugis limen et exitum ?
Nec mens Æthereum colmen, et aeria
Magni patris anhelitat?
Corpus vile creat mille molestias,
Circum corda volant et dolor, et metus,
Peccatumque malis durius omnibus
Cæcas infidias ftruit.
Non hoc grata tibi gaudia de solo
Surgunt : Chriftus abeft, deliciæ tuz,
Longe Christus abeft, inter et angelos
Ec pieta aftra perambulans.
* Cæli summa petas, hec jaculabitur.
Iracunda tonans fulmina : te Deus
Hortatur; vacuum tende per æra
Pennas punc homini datas.

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# Vide Horat. lib. I. od. 3.

Breathing toward the beavenly country.

Casimire, Book I. Ode 19. imitated.

Urit me patriae decor, &c.

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The beauty of my native land
Immortal love inspires;
I burn, I burn with strong desires,
And figh, and wait the high command.
There glides the moon her shining way,
And shoots my heart thro' with a filver ray:
Upward my heart aspires;
A thousand lamps of golden light
Hung high in vaulted azure charm my fight,
And wink and beckon with their amorous fires.
Oye fair glories of my heav'nly 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 lic
An exile of the sky,
A prisoner of the ground?
Descend some shining servaats from on high,
Build me a hafty tomb;
A grasíy turf will raise my head,
The ncighb'ring lilies dress my bed,
And shed a cheap perfume.

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