No wiser, if its pains proceed, than end,
And all its journey only to descend.

The question is not therefore, how much light God's wisdom gives us, but t'exert it right: Enough remains for ev'ry social end,

For practice, theory, self, neighbour, friend:
Then call not knowledge narrow, Heav'n unkind;
One curse there is, 'tis wantonness of mind.-
No human plummets can abysses sound:
Agreed: yet rocks they reach and shelving
ground:

Thus reason, where 'tis dang'rous, steers us right,
And then dissolves amidst th' abyss of light.
'Tis reason finds th' horizon's glimm'ring line
Where realms of truth, and realms of errour join:
Views its own hemisphere with thankful eyes,
Thinks nature good in that which she denies :
While pride amidst the vast abrupt must soar-
Alas! to fathom God is to be more!

Then dare be wise, into thyself descend, Sage to some purpose, studious to some end: Search thy own heart, the well where knowledge lies: [skies: Thence (not from higher earth) we catch the Leave myst'ry to the seraph's purer thought Which takes in truth, as forms by streams are caught:

Leaves lust to brutes whose unhurt sense is such,
That tenfold transport thrills at ev'ry touch:
Holding the middle sphere where reason lies,
Than these more temp`rate, as than those less
wise.

Each pow'r of animals in each degree,
Ev'n second instinct, knowledge is to thee:
Th' effect as certain, tho' the birth more slow,
For like the rose it must expand and blow:
Time must call forth the manhood of the mind,
By study strengthen'd, and by taste refin'd
Its action open, as its purpose true,
Slow to resolve, but constant to pursue:
Weeded from passion, prejudice and pride,
Mod' rate to all, yet steady to one side.
Such once was Knight: in word, in action clear,
Ev'n in the last recess of thought sincere:
Great without titles, virtuous without show,
Learn'd without pride, and just without a foe:
Alike humane, to pity, or impart:

The coolest head, and yet the warmest heart.
O early lost! With ev'ry grace adorn'd!
By me (so Heav'n ordain'd it) always mourn'd;
In life's full joy, and virtues' fairest bloom
Untimely check'd, and hurry'd to the tomb:
Torn ev'n from her whom all the world approv'd,
More blest than man, and more than man be-
lov'd.

How few, like thee, truth's arduous paths can
tread,
[head?
Trace her slow streams, and taste them at their
See how scarft sages, and pale schoolmen roam
From art to art? their mind a void at home.
For oft our understanding opes our eyes,
Forgets itself, tho' all things it deseries.
Minds like fine pictures are by distance prov'd,
And objects proper, only as remov'd.

Yet reason has a fund of charms t' engage Art, study, meditation, youth and age: Beauty, which must the slave, the monarch'strike; Homage, which paid not, injures both alike: Virtue at once to please, and to befriend, (Great Nature's clue, observant of its end);

Such were the paths, the rubric ancients trod,
The friends of virtue and the friends of God.
Science like this, important and divine,
The good man offers, Reason, at thy shrine:
Sees thee, God, Nature (well explain'd) the same:
Not chang'd when thought on, varying but in

name:

Sees whence each aptitude,each diff'rence springs, How thought ev'n acts, and meaning lives in things:

Or else examines at less studious hours
The thinking faculty, its source, its pow'rs:
How stretch'd like Kneller's canvas first it lies,
'Ere the soft tints awake, or outlines rise:
How till the finishing of thrice sev'n years,
The master figure Reason scarce appears:
Sighs to survey a realm by right its own,
While passion, fierce co-heir, usurps the throne:
A second Nero, turbulent in sway,

His pleasure, noise, his life one stormy day:
Headstrong in love, and headstrong too in hate,
Resolv'd t' enslave the mob, or sink the state:
Sad farce of pow'r, sad anarchy of things,
Where brutes are subjects, and where tyrants
kings!

Yet in this infant state, by stealth, by chance, Th' increasing mind still feels a slow advance, Thro' the dark void ev'n gleams of truth can And love of liberty upheave at root: [shoot, No more the tender seeds unquicken'd lie, But stretch their form and wait for wings to fly. Sensation frst, the ground-work of the whole, Deals ray by ray each image to the soul: Perception true to every nerve, receives The various impulse, now exults, now grieves: Thought works and ends, and dares afresh be[in;

gin:

So whirlpools pour out streams, and suck them
That thought romantic Memory detains
In unknown cells, and in aerial chains :
Imagination thence her flow'rs translates;
And Fancy, emulous of God, creates :
Experience slowly moving next appears,
Wise but by habit, judging but from years:
Till Knowledge comes, a wise and gen'rous heir,
And opes the reservoir, averse to spare:
And Reason rises, the Newtonian sun,
Moves all, guides all, and all sustains in one.
Bright emanation of the Godhead, hail!
Fountain of living lustre, ne'er to fail :
As none deceiving, so of none deceiv'd:
Beheld, and in the act of sight believ'd;
In truth, in strength, in majesty array'd,
No change to turn thee, and no cloud to shade.
Such in herself is Reason-deist, say,
What hast thou here t' object, t' explain away?
Thinkst thou thy reason this unerring rule?
Then live a madman-and yet die a fool!
God gave us reason as the stars were giv'n,
Not to discard the Sun, but mark out Heav'n;
At once a rule of faith, if well employ`d,
A source of pleasure, if aright enjoy'd,
A point, round which th' eternal errour lies
Of fools too credulous, and wits too wise:
A faithful guide to comfort and to save,
Till the mind floats, like Peter on the wave:
Then bright-ey'd Hope descends, of heav'nly
And Faith our immortality on Earth. [birth,

A Saviour speaks! lo! darkness low'rs no more,
And the hush'd billows sleep against the shore.

If this be hardship, let the dying heir
Spurn back his father's aid, and curse his care:
If this be cruel, partial and unwise,
Then perish infidel, and God despise.

Nor flows it hence, that revelation's force
Chains reason down, or thwarts it in its course:
Since obligation, first of moral ties,
Binds thus, and yet no tyranny implies;
We grant that men th' eternal motive see,
Yet motive, where there's choice, still leaves
them free:

True liberty was ne'er by licence gain'd,
Nor are liege-subjects slaves because restrain'd;
Restriction shows the check, but none creates :
So prescience finds, but not necessitates.

Yet still the wits with partial voice exclaim, "What art thou truth? What knowledge, but a

name?

In short, are mortals free, or they are bound?
Tell us,
is reason something, or a sound ?”
Friends, 'tis agreed: behold the gen'rous part,
My soul at once unfolded, and my heart;
Too brave to be by superstition aw'd,
And yet too modest to confront the God:
Chain'd to no int'rest, bigot to no cause,
Slave of no hope, preferment, or applause:
For those who cleave to truth for virtue's sake,
Enjoy all party-good, yet nothing stake.

Thou then, O source of uncreated light,
Hallow my lips, and guard me while I write.
First in that Pow'r (to whose eternal thought
No outward image e'er one image brought,
The part, the whole, the seer and the seen,
No distance, inference, or act between),
Reason presides, diffusing thence abroad
Thro' truth, thro' things-the test, the point of
God.

As perfect reason from the Godhead springs, (And still unchang'd if perfect): so from things, Truths, actions-in their kind and their degree, Starts real meaning, difference, harmony. These all imply a reason, reason still A duty; good, if sought; if sought not, ill: Hence in the chain of causes, virtue, vice, And hence religion, take their gen'ral rise.

God first creates; the ref'rence, nature, force
Of things created must result of course:
As well might sense its evidence disclaim,
Or chance sketch out Earth's, Heav'n's stupen-
dous frame;

As well might motion to be rest consent,
As well might matter fill without extent,
As things (instead of being what they ought)
Sink into hazard, whim, caprice, or nought.
Hence in each art, the great, the glorious
For science only copies moral charms, [warms,
Mysterious excellence! the dome, the draught,
The lay, the concert swell upon the thought.

The mind to nobler beauty thence proceeds,
The union, colouring, and force of deeds;
Swells in the hero's cause with vast esteem,
Pants for the patriot, and would more than seem;
Labours with Brutus in the stern decree, [free!"
Yet whispers 'midst his tears, "O Rome be
Envies at Utica the stoic sword,

Or bleeds at Carthage, martyr to its word. These truths congenial, nor devis'd though found,

Live in each age, and shoot from ev'ry ground:

Bloom or on Albion's, or on India's coast,
Midst Abyssinia's flames, or Zembla's frost.
Yet still the wits and moralists exclaim,
"That virtue's casual oft, and oft a name:
At Esperanza's cape (or Jesuits lie)
Their baptism's urine, and their god a fly:
Old Cato, sagely vers'd in stoic laws,
Still hackney'd out his wife to serve the cause:
And incest, for th' advantage of a nation
Was sacred made by Spartan toleration:
Midst Tart'ry's deserts, and Cathaya's sands,
In their horse-soup their natives wash their
bands:

One drop of wine but in their chamber spilt,
Is certain death, inexpiable guilt'!
For a huge whore, see heroes, kings, at strife,
But never virgin there was made a wife 2."

Of all assertions, these indeed are chief
T'excite compassion, tho' not shake belief:
Since from an agent's want of taste and skil
It flows not that the rule must needs be ill;
For truth exists abstracted from the mind,
And Nature's laws are laws, tho' man be blind,
Reason, at most, but imitates the Sun,
To each is various, and to all is one:
Perfect, consider'd in itself, 'tis true,
And yet imperfect as exerted too :
The mental pow'r eternal, equal, fixt,
The human act unequal, casual, mixt;
And if such dormant reason bears no fruit,
Dead in the branch, tho' real at the root,
Defect and actual ignorance are one,
For useless talents are the same as none:
All men may catch the heights of truths,'tis true,
But the great question is, if all men do.

"Oh but:" says one, "if reason comes from

Heav'n,

"Nature, or God, must deal the blessing ev'n.' Agreed; and in a prior sense they do; But still t' improve the gift devolves on you: Reason in this respect, I boldly say- [lay)(And so do thousands, schoolmen, churchmen, No more is natural, and inly born

Than love, or lust, or pride, or hate, or scorn: 'Tis man's t' exert, exalt, subject, impart : Here lies the honesty and here the art.

'Tis his, t' improve good sense, but none create, Ty'd down to spend no more than his estate: To strike no notion out, no truth deduce, But just as nature sow'd the seeds for use.

This instance urg'd and drawn from mental pow'rs,

Earth each day testifies in trees and flowers:
Culture with skill, and science join'd with toil,
Teach Persia's peach to bloom in Albion's soil;
As truly nature's produce here, as there
In its own sunshine and its spicy air.-
For truth, like earth made barren by the fall,
Just as men labour, tribute pays to all:
Plain, if kind Heav'n two blessings shall impart,
A reasonable head, and upright heart:
For plainness rises in a giv'n degree
As men are honest, and as men can see:
Quarles may be harder to th' unletter'd clown
Than Hed'lin, or Bossu to wits in town.
What's ethic to the true pains-taking man,
Who never thinks, and cheats but all he can ?”

Holds ev'n th' Almighty in her airy chain,
Gives back his laws, well meant, but meant in
Its bravery at best a blundering hit, [vain;
Its freedom treason, obloquy its wit:
Its vast request just purely to declaim,
And the dear little licence-to blaspheme :-
Say, can cool virtue here dissuade from ill?
Or exil'd reason-pander to the will?
At most a voice or miracle may save,
And only terrours snatch us from the grave.

Suppose (though we disown it oft to be) Man from these errours and these passions free: Well taught by art, by nature well inclin❜d, Steady of judgment, tractable of mind, The first step is, the giving folly o'er ; The last, to practice truth, is ten times more,

Ah me! what lengths of valley yet remain, What hills to climb, ere reason's height he gain? What strength to toil, what labour to pursue, Still out of reach, and often out of view.

Then, gracious God, how well dost thou provide For erring reason an unerring guide! To silence explanation (myst'ry's foe), To lead the tim'rous, and exalt the low : Ev'n to the best (as all are oft perplext) Instructive, as true comments on a text.

Then let each hour's new whim the witlings
swell,

Heav'n let them tutor, and extinguish Hell:
Refuse to trust Omniscience on its troth,
Yet take a lawyer's word, or harlot's oath :
Then bigots, when 'gainst bigots they complain;
And only singular, because they're vain.
Grant none but they the narrow path can hit-
When will two wits allow each other wit?

Far other views the solid mind employ,
A bounded prospect, but a surer joy :-
True knowledge when she conquers or abstains,
Like the true hero, equal glory gains.
This, this is science, sacred in its end,
True to the views of Heav'n,one's self, and friend,
The earliest study, as the latest care,
The surest refuge, and the only pray'r.
O thou, the God, who high in Heav'n pre-
sides,
[guides,
Whose eye o'ersees me, and whose wisdom
Deal me that portion of content and rest, [best:
That unknown health, and peace, which suit me
Save me from all the guilt and all the pain,
That lust of pleasure brings, and lust of gain:
In trial fix me, and in peril shade,
'Gainst foes protect me, 'gainst my passions aid:
In wealth my guardian, and in want my guide,
'Twixt a mean flattery, and drunken pride:
With life's more dear sensations warm my heart,
Transport to feel, benevolence t' impart,
Each homefelt joy, each public duty send,
Make me, and give me, all things in the friend.
But most protect and guard me in a mind
Not rashly bold, nor abjectly resigned,

TO THE PRINCE OF ORANGE,

sides,

Whose eyes unerring Albion's welfare guides,
Taught yonder streams with new-felt force to flow,
And bade th' exalted minerals doubly glow.
Thus cold and motionless Bethesda stood,
Till heavenly influence brooded o'er the flood.

Lo! while our isle with one loud pæan rings,
Equal, though silent, homage Isis brings;
Isis, whose erring on the modest side
Th' unkind and ignorant mistake for pride.
Here's the task of reason, not of art,
Words of the mind, and actions of the heart!
And sure that unbought praise which learning
brings

Outweighs the vast acclaim that deafens kings;
For souls, supremely sensible and great,
See through the farce of noise, and pomp of state;
Mark when the fools huzza, or wise rejoice,
And judge exactly between sound and voice.

Hail, and proceed! be arts like ours thy care, Nor slight those laurels thou wert born to wear : Adorn and emulate thy glorious line,

Take thy forefather's worth, and give them thine. Blest with each gift that human hearts can move, In science blest, but doubly blest in love.

Power, beauty, virtue, dignify thy choice, Each public suffrage, and each private voice.

'From the Epithalamia Oxoniensia, &c 1734. K.

PREFACE.

I SHALL not trouble the public with excuses for venturing to send these Religious Poems into the world; having long since observed, that all apologies made by authors, far from gaining the end proposed, serve only to supply an ill-natured critic with weapons to attack them. This being the case, it shall suffice me to say, that I drew up the present writings for my own private consolation under a lingering and dangerous state of health, which it has pleased God to make my portion: nor had I any better opportunity or power of discharging the duties of my profession to mankind. The goodness of my cause may perhaps supply the defects of my poetry; since, in this sense, "the very gleanings of the grapes of Ephraim will be better than the vintage of Abiezer." I promise my readers no extraordinary art in composition or style; but flatter myself they will find some nature, some flame, and some truth.

Parables, fables, emblematic visions, &c. are the most ancient method of conveying truth to mankind. Upwards of forty of the finest and most poetical parts of the Old and New Testament are of this cast, and force their way upon the mind and heart irresistibly, though they are written in prose.

From a just sense of this humble simplicity, I have here translated the plainest and least figurative parable that our Blessed Saviour has delivered to us, relating only to a few un-ornament. ed circumstances in agriculture.

To express such humble allusions with clearness, propriety, and dignity, was, it must be confessed, one of the hardest pieces of poetry I ever yet undertook; nevertheless, I flattered myself that I was in some degree master of one part of the subject (namely, the culture of land) upon which the parable is founded.

Yet the great and real difficulty still recurred; Difficile est propriè communia dicere, How far I have succeeded in this, or any other particular, is more than I shall take upon me

to conjecture. Nor shall it be dissembled, but that I had a great inclination to give a paraphrase (or metaphrase rather) of the xxviiith chapter of Deuteronomy; which, I believe, hath never yet been turned into English verse. doubtless one of the noblest pieces of poetry in Holy Scripture; being at the same time sublime, and yet plain; seemingly familiar, and yet richly diversified.

It is

In this chapter, the change of ideas and events from a state of obedience to a state of disobedience, exhibits a power of language, imagery, and just thinking, which no un-inspired writings ever have laid claim to with justice, or ever shall. But, when I came to take a closer view of the precipice and its dangers, "my heart trembled," as Job says, "and was moved out of its place;" I threw down the pencil in despair, and left the undertaking to some abler hand; namely, to some future Milton, Dryden, or Pope.

Upon the whole, I may perhaps venture to persuade myself, that the intention of the present work is commendable, and that the work when perused, may prove useful (more or less) to my fellow-christians,

Conscious of my own inabilities, and being desirous that the reader may receive some advantage by casting his eyes over these poems, I have added in a few notes, the most remarkable passages I had an eye to in the Holy Scriptures, and in the writings of the primitive fathers; they being the only compass and charts which I have made use of in my navigation.

A mixture of pleasing and instructive poetry cannot fail to engage the attention of all rational and serious readers: "For, as it is hurtful to drink wine, or water, alone; and as wine mingledpleasant, and delighteth the taste; even so speech, finely framed, delighteth the ears of them that read the story."

wth water

2 MACCAB. Ch. ult. v. ult.