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III. Great Gouge to dust! how doleful is the sound! How vast the stroke is, and how wide the wound! Oh painful stroke, diftrcfling death! A wound unmeasurably wide; No vulgar mortal dy'd When he resign’d his breath. The Muse that mourns a nation's fall Should wait at Gouge's funeral, Should mingle majesty and groans, Such as she sings to finking thrones, And in deep founding numbers tell How Sion trembled when this pillar fell. Sion grows weak and England poor : Nature herself with all her store

35 Can furnish such a pomp for Death no more.

IV.
The rev'rend man let all things mourn :
Sure he was fome ethereal mind
Fated in flesh to be confin'd
And order'd to be born.

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His foul was of th'angelick frame;
The same ingredients and the mould the same
When the Creator makes a minister of flame.
He was all form’d of heav'nly things;
Mortals ! believe what my Urania sings,
For she has seen him rise upon his flamy wings.

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V. How would he mount, how would he fly, Up thro' the occan of the sky Tow'rd the celestial coaft! With what amazing swiftness foar Till earth's dark ball was feen no more, And all its mountains loft! Scarce could the Muse pursue him with her sight; But angels, you can tell, For oft’ you met his wondrous flight And knew the stranger well; Say how he past the radiant spheres And vificed your happy seats, And trac'd the wellknown turnings of the golden And walk'd among the tars.

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VI. Tell how he climb’d the everlasting hills, Surveying all the realms above, Borne on a strongwing'd faith, and on the fiery wheels Of an immortal love. 'Twas there he took a glorious fight Of the inheritance of faints in light, And read their title in their Saviour's right. How oft' the humble fcholar came, And to your songs he rais'd his cars To learn th' unutterable name,

70 To view th' eternal base that bears The new creation's franie.

65 85

The countenance of God he law,
Full of mercy full of awe;
The glories of his pow'r and glories of his grace: 75
There he beheld the wondrous Springs
Of those celestial sacred things,
The peaceful gospel and the fiery law
In that majestick face;
That face did all his gazing pow'rs employ 80
With most profound abasement and exalted joy.
The rolls of Fate were half unseal'd,
He stood adoring by,
The volumes open'd to his eye,
And sweet intelligence he held
With ah his shining kindred of the sky.

VII,
Ye seraphs that surround the throne
Tell how his name was thro' the palace known,
How warm his zeal was, and how like your own..
Speak it aloud, let half the nation hear,

90 And bold blasphemers shrink and fear t. Impudent tongues! to blast a Prophet's name! The poison sure was fetch'd from hell, Where the old blasphemers dwell, To taint the purest dust and blot the whitest fame. Impudent tonguez! you should be darted thro',. 96 Nail'd to your own black mouths, and lie Useless and dead till Slander die, Till Slander die with you. 'Tho'he was so great and good a man he did not escapecensure,

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VIII. “We saw him,” say the ethereal throng, “ We saw his warm devotions rise, “We heard the fervour of his cries, “ And mix'd his praises with our fong ; “ We knew the secret flights of his retiring hours, Nightly he wak’d his inward pow'rs;

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Young Israel rose to wrestle with his God, [tow'rs
“And with unconquer'd force scal'd the celestial
“To reach the blessing down for those that sought
“Oft’ we beheld the Thund'rer's hand [his blood.
“Rais'd high to crush the factious foe,
" As oft' we saw the rolling Vengeance sand
“Doubtful t'obey the dread command,
“While his afcending pray'r upheld the fallingblow."

IX.
Draw the past fcenes of thy delight
My Muse, and bring the wondrous man to fight;
Place him surrounded as he stood

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With pious crowds, while from his tongue
A dream of harmony ran foft along,
And ev'ry ear drank in the flowing good:
Softly it ran its silver way
Till warm devotion rais'd the current strong,
Then fervid zeal on the fweet deluge rode,
Life, love, and glory, grace and joy,
Divinely rolld promiscuous on the torrent flood,
And bore our raptur'd sense away and thoughts and
fouls to God,

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O might we dwell for ever there,
No more return to breathe this grosserair,
This atmosphere of fin, calamity, and care !

X.
But heav'nly scenes soon leave the fight,
While we belong to clay,

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Passions of terrour and delight
Demand alternate sway.
Behold the man whose awful voice
Could well proclaim the fiery law,
Kindle the flames that Mofes faw,

135 And swell the trumpet's warlike noise! He stands the herald of the threat'ning skies; Lo on his rev'rend brow the frowns divinely rise, All Sinai's thunder on his tongue and lightning in Round the high roof the curses fiew, [his eyes! Distinguishing cach guilty head,

141 Far from th’unequal war the Atheist Aed, His kindled arrows still pursue, His arrows strike the Atheist thro', [fpread. And o'er his inmost pow'rs a fudd'ring horrour The marble heart groans with an inward wound; Blaspheming fouls of harden'd steel Shriek out amaz'd at the new pangs they feel, And dread the echoes of the found : The lofty wretch arm’d and array'd

150 In gaudy pride sinks down his impious head, Plunges in dark despair and mingles with the dead.

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