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Fair Rounds of radiant Points inveft his Hair; Celestial Odours breathe thro' purpled Air : And Wings, whose Colours glitter'd on the Day,
Wide at his Back their gradual Plumes dif
The Form etherial, burfts upon his Sight,
Tho' loud at firft the Pilgrim's Paffion grew, Sudden he gaz'd, and wist not what to do ; Surprize, in fecret Chains, his Words fufpends,
And, in a Calm, his settling Temper ends. But Silence here the beauteous Angel broke, (The Voice of Music ravish'd as he spoke.) Thy Pray'r, thy Praife, thy Life to Vice unknown,
In fweet Memorial rife before the Throne: Thefe Charms, Succefs in our bright Region find,
And force an Angel down to calm thy Mind;
And let these Scruples be no longer thine.
'Tis thus, withdrawn in State from human
The Pow'r exerts his Attributes on high,
Than those which lately ftruck thy wond'ring
Yet taught by thefe, confefs th' Almighty juft, And, where you can't unriddle, learn to trust. The great, vain Man, who far'd on coftly
Whofe Life was too luxurious to be good; Who made his Iv'ry Stands with Goblets shine, And forc'd his Guefts to Morning Draughts of
Has, with the Cup, the graceless Custom loft,
The mean, fufpicious Wretch, whofe bolted
Ne'er mov'd in Duty to the wand'ring Poor;
Long had our pious Friend in Virtue trod, But now the Child half-wean'd his Heart from God;
(Child of his Age) for him he liv'd in Pain, And measur'd back his Steps to Earth again. To what Exceffes had his Dotage run?
But God, to fave the Father, took the Son.
(And 'twas my Ministry to deal the Blow.) The poor fond Parent, humbled in the Duft, Now owns, in Tears, the Punishment was juft.
But how had all his Fortune felt a Wrack, Had that falfe Servant fped in Safety back? This Night his treafur'd Heaps he meant to steal,
And what a Fund of Charity wou'd fail!
Thus Heav'n inftructs thy Mind; this Trial
Depart in Peace, refign, and fin no more.
The Sage ftood wond'ring as the Seraph flew. Thus look'd Elisha, when, to mount on
His Mafter took the Chariot of the Sky.
The bending Hermit here a Pray'r begun, Lord! as in Heav'n, on Earth thy Will be done.
Then gladly turning, fought his ancient Place, And pass'd a Life of Piety and Peace.
The CATTERPILLAR and
HE Morning blush'd with vivid Red,
And look'd around, and chanc'd to 'ípy
From where he lay, he crawl'd, and found,
In that nice Moment, prompt to fave,
"O! turn, advent'rous as thou art,
O! think what Dangers guard the Prize;
A Butterfly!' th' Advent'rer cries,
• What's that?'"A Bird," his Friend replies,
To which this reptile Form fhall rife;
Difdain the Ground, and mount the Wind: And shou'd'ft thou, Friend, this Age attain(With Haste the Worm reply'd again)