Darkness, thou first kind parent of us all,
Thou art our great original!
Since from thy universal womb,
Does all thou had'st below, thy num'rous offspring, come.
Thy wond'rous birth is ev'n to time unknown,
Or, like eternity thou 'dst none;
While light did its first being owe
Unto that awful shade it dares to rival now.
Involv'd in thee we first receive our breath :
Thou art our refuge too in death!
Great monarch of the grave and womb! Where-e'er our souls shall go, to thee our bodies come. The silent globe is struck with awful fear When thy majestic shades appear.
Thou dost compose the air and sea : And earth a sabbath keeps, sacred to rest and thee. In thy serener shades our ghosts delight,
And court the umbrage of the night.
In vaults and gloomy caves they stray, But fly the morning beams, and sicken at the day. Thou dost thy smiles impartially bestow :
And know'st no diff'rence here below; All things appear the same to thee: Tho' Light distinction makes, thou giv'st equality. In caves of night, the oracles of old
Did all their mysteries unfold:
Darkness did first religion grace,
Gave terrors to the god, and rev'rence to the place.
When the Almighty did on Horeb stand,
Thy shades inclos'd the hallow'd land:
In clouds of night he was array'd,
And venerable darkness his pavilion made.
When he appear'd arm'd in his pow'r and might,
He veil'd the beatifick light;
When terrible with majesty,
In tempests he gave laws, and clad himself with thee.
And fading light its empire must resign.
And nature's power submit to thine: A universal ruin shall erect thy throne,
And fate confirm thy kingdom evermore thy own.
CVI. COLLEY CIBBER.
Count Gormaz, you, and you Alvarez, hear:
Though in the camp your swords, in court your counsel,
Have justly raised your fame to envied heights,
Yet let me still deplore your race and you,
That from a long descent of lineal heat,
Your private feuds as oft have shook the state;
And what's the source of this upheld defiance ?
Alas! the stubborn claim of ancient rank,
Held from a two-days' antedated honour,
Which gave the younger house pre-eminence.
How many valiant lives have eased our foes
Of fear, destroy'd by this contested title;
And what's decided by this endless valour?
Whose honour yet confesses the superior?
While both dare die, the quarrel is immortal:
Or say that force on one part has prevailed,
Is there such merit in unequal strength?
If violence is virtue, brutes may boast it:
Lions with lions grapple, and dispute:
But men are only great, truly victorious,
When with superior reason they subdue.
Can you then think you are in honour bound
To heir the follies of your ancestors?
Since they have left you virtue and renown,
Transmit not to posterity their blame.
CVII. AMBROSE PHILIPS.
THE FROZEN SHOWER.
Ere vet the clouds let fall the treasur'd snow;
Or wind began through hazy skies to blow,
At evening a keen eastern breeze arose,
And the descending rain unsullied froze.
Soon as the silent shades of night withdrew,
The ruddy morn disclos'd at once to view
The face of nature in a rich disguise,
And brighten'd every object to my eyes;
For every shrub, and every blade of grass,
And every pointed thorn seem'd wrought in glass;
In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show,
While through the ice the crimson berries glow.
The thick-sprung reeds, which watery marshes yield,
Seem'd polish'd lances in a hostile field.
The stag in limpid currents, with surprise,
Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise:
The spreading oak, the beach, and tow'ring pine,
Glaz'd over, in the freezing æther shine.
The frighted birds the rattling branches shun,
Which wave and glitter in the distant sun.
Then, if a sudden gust of wind arise,
The brittle forest into atoms flies,
The crackling wood beneath the tempest bends,
And in a spangled shower the prospect ends.
It must be so-Plato, thou reason'st well-
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality!
Or whence this secret dread and inward horror,
Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction ?
'Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter.
And intimates eternity to man.
Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!
Through what variety of untried being,
Through what new scenes and changes must we pass!
The wide, th' unbounded prospect lies before me
But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon't.
Here will I hold. If there's a power above,
(And that there is, all nature cries aloud
Through all her works) he must delight in virtue;
And that which he delights in must be happy.
But when or where? this world was made for Cæsar :
I'm weary of conjectures-this must end them.
Thus am I doubly arm'd-my death and life,
My bane and antidote, are both before me.
This in a moment brings me to an end;
But this informs me I shall never die.
The soul secur'd in her existence, smiles
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years;
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
Unhurt among the war of elements,
The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.
The Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care:
His presence shall my wants supply,
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noon-day walks he shall attend,
And all my mid-night hours defend.
When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountains pant
To fertile vale, and dewy meads,
My weary, wandering steps he leads;
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.
Though in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart shall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me still;
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds I stray,
Thy bounty shall my pains beguile:
The barren wilderness shall smile,
With sudden greens and herbage crown'd,
And streams shall murmur all around.
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, and shining frame.
Their great Original proclaim :
The unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth:
Whilst all the stars that round her burn.
And all the planets, in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
What though, in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball!
What though nor real voice nor sound
Amid their radiant orbs he found!
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing, as they shine,
"The hand that made us is divine.”"
CIX. SAMUEL COBB
EVIL UNAVOIDABLE.
Had guile, and pride, and envy grown
In the black groves of Styx alone,
Nor ever had on earth the fatal crop been sown
The swain, without amaze, had tilled
The Flandrian glebe, a guiltless field:
Nor had he wondered, when he found
The bones of heroes in the ground:
No crimson streams had lately swelled
The Dyle, the Danube, and the Scheldt.
But evils are of necessary growth,
To rouse the brave and banish sioth;
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