Bleft with all wealth can give thee,, to refign
Joys doubly sweet to feelings quick as thine,
To quit the blifs the rural scenes bestow,

To feek a nobler amidst scenes of woe,.

To traverse seas, range kingdoms, and bring home,,
Not the proud monuments of Greece or Rome,
But knowledge fuch as only dungeous teach,,
And only sympathy like thine could reach ;
That grief, fequefter'd from the public stage,
Might smooth her feathers and enjoy her cage,,
Speaks a divine ambition and a zeal,
The boldest patriot might be proud to feel.
Oh that the voice and clamor and debate,
That pleads for peace 'till it disturbs the ftate,,
Were hush'd in favour of thy gen'rous plea,
The poor thy clients, and heaven's fmile thy fee..
Philosophy, that does not dream or stray,,

Walks arm in arm with nature all his way,.
Compaffes earth, dives into it, ascends.
Whatever steep enquiry recommends,
Sees planetary wonders fmoothly roll:
Round other systems under her contral,
Drinks wisdom at the milky ftream of light-
That cheers the filent journey of the night,,
And brings at his return a bofom charged,
With rich instruction, and a foul enlarged.

The

The treafur'd fweets of the capacious plan
That heav'n fpreads wide before the view of man,
All prompt his pleas'd purfuit, and to pursue
Still prompt him, with a pleasure always new;
He too has a connecting pow'r, and draws
Man to the centre of the common caufe,
Aiding a dubious and deficient fight,
With a new medium and a purer light..
All truth is precious, if not all divine,,

And what dilates the pow'rs muft needs refine.
He reads the fkies, and watching ev'ry change,

Provides the faculties an ampler range,

And wins mankind, as his attempts prevail,
A prouder station on the gen'ral scale.
But reafon ftill, unless divinely taught,
Whate'er he learns, learns nothing as he ought;
The lamp of revelation only, shows,

What human wifdom cannot but oppofe,
That man in nature's richest mantle clad,,
And graced with all philosophy can add,
Though fair without, and luminous within,
Is fill the progeny and heir of fin.

Thus taught, down falls the plumage of his pride,
He feels his need of an unerring guide,

And knows that falling he shall rife no more,,
Unless the pow'r that bade him stand, restore.

This is indeed philofophy; this known,
Makes wisdom, worthy of the name, his own;
And without this, whatever he difcufs,

Whether the space between the ftars and us,
Whether he measures earth, compute the fea,
Weigh fun-beams, carve a fly, or spit a flea,,
The folemn trifler with his boasted skill

Toils much, and is a folemn trifler ftill;:
Blind was he born, and his mifguided eyes.
Grown dim in trifling ftudies, blind he dies.
Self-knowledge truly learn'd, of course implies
The rich poffeffion of a nobler prize,

For felf to felf, and God to man reveal'd,
(Two themes to nature's eye for ever seal'd)
Are taught by rays that fly with equal pace,
From the fame center of enlight'ning grace.
Here ftay thy foot, how copious and how clear,
Th' o'erflowing well of Charity fprings here!.
Hark! 'tis the mufic of a thousand rills,

Some through the groves, fome down the floping hills,

Winding a fecret or an open course,

And all fupplied from an eternal fource.
The ties of nature do but feebly bind,
And commerce partially reclaims mankind
Philofophy, without his heav'nly guide,
May blow up felf-conceit and nourish pride,

But

But while his province is the reas'ning part,
Has still a veil of midnight on his heart;
'Tis truth divine, exhibited on earth,.
Gives Charity her being and her birth.

Suppofe (when thought is warm and fancy flows,
What will not argument fometimes fuppofe?)
An ifle poffefs'd by creatures of our kind,
Endu'd with reason, yet by nature blind.
Let fuppofition lend her aid once more,
And land fome grave optician on the shore,.
He claps his lens, if haply they may see,
Close to the part where vifion ought to be,
But finds that though his tubes affift the fight,
They cannot give it, or make darkness light.
He reads wife lectures, and defcribes aloud
A fense they know not, to the wond'ring crowd,.
He talks of light and the prifmatic hues,
As men of depth in erudition use,

But all he gains for his harangue is-Well-.
What monftrous lies fome travellers will tell.

The foul whofe fight all-quick'ning grace renews,
Takes the refemblance of the good fhe views,
As di'monds stript of their opaque disguise,,
Refle&s the noon-day glory of the fkies.

She fpeaks of him, her author, guardian, friend, Whofe love knew no beginning, knows no end,

J

3

}

In language warm as all that love infpires,
And in the glow of her intenfe defires,
Pants to communicate her noble fires.
She fees a world ftark blind to what employs
Her eager thought, and feeds her flowing joys,
Though wifdom hail them, heedlefs of her call,
Flies to fave fome, and feels a pang for all:
Herfelf as weak as her fupport is strong,
She feels that frailty fhe denied fo long,
And from a knowledge of her own disease,
Learns to compaffionate the fick fhe fees.
Here fee, acquitted of all vain pretence,
The reign of genuine Charity commence ;
Though fcorn repay her sympathetic tears,
She ftill is kind, and ftill fhe perfeveres ;
The truth the loves, a fightless world blafpheme,
'Tis childish dotage, a delirious dream,

The danger they difcern not, they deny,
Laugh at their only remedy, and die:
But ftill a foul thus touch'd, can never cease,
Whoever threatens war, to speak of peace;
Pure in her aim and in her temper mild,
Her wisdom feems the weakness of a child;
She makes excufes where he might condemn,
Reviled by thofe that hate her, prays for them;
Sufpicion