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Whose beams with fuch malignant luftre fhone,
Whence all my years in anxious circles run.
Loft be that night in undetermin'd space,
And veil with deeper shades her gloomy face,
Which crowded up with woes this flender span,
While the dull mass rofe quickening into man.

O'er that curs'd day let sable darkness rife,
Shrowd the blue vault, and blacken all the skies
May God o'er-look it from his heavenly throne,
Nor rouze from fleep the fedentary fun,
O'er its dark face to fhed his genial ray,
And warm to joy the melancholy day.

May the clouds frown, and livid poisons breathe,
And ftain heaven's azure with the fhade of death.
May ten-fold darkness from that dreadful night
Seize and arreft the ftraggling gleams of light;
due vengeance for its fatal crime,

To pay
Still be it banish'd from the train of time;
Nor in the radiant lift of months appear,
To stain the shining circle of the year :

There through her dusky range may silence roam,
There may no ray, no glimpse of gladness come,
No voice to cheer the folitary gloom.
May every star his gaudy light with-hold,
Nor through the vapour shoot his beamy gold:
Nor let the dawn with radiant fkirts come on,
Tipp'd with the glories of the rifing fun;
Because that dreadful period fix'd my doom,
Nor feal'd the dark receffes of the womb.

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To that original my ills I owe,

Heir of affliction, and the fon of woe.
Oh! had I dy'd unexercis'd in pain,
And wak'd to life, to fleep in death again!
Why did not Fate attend me at my birth,
And give me back to my congenial earth?
Why was I, when an infant, sooth’d to rest,
Lull'd on the knee, or hung upon the breast?
For now the grave would all my cares compose,
Conceal my forrows, and inter my woes :

There wrapp'd and lock'd within his cold embrace,
Safe had I flumber'd in the arms of peace ;
There with the mighty kings, who lie inroll'd
In clouds of incenfe, and in beds of gold :
There with the princes, who in grandeur shone,
And aw'd the trembling nations from the throne;
Afflicted Job an equal reft might have,
And share the dark retirement of the grave;
Or as a shapeless Embryo feek the tomb,
Rude and imperfect from the abortive womb :
Ere motion's early principle began,

Or the dim fubftance kindled into man.

There from their monftrous crimes the wicked cease, Their labouring guilt is weary'd into peace; There blended fleep the coward and the brave, Stretch'd with his lord, the undistinguish'd flave Enjoys the common refuge of the grave. An equal lot the mighty victor fhares, And lies amidst the captives of his wars;

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With his, thofe captives mingle their remains,
The fame in death, nor leffen'd by their chains,
Why are we doom'd to view the genial ray?
Why curft to bear the painful light of day?
Oh! with what joy the wretches yield their breath?
And pant in bitterness of foul for death?
As a rich prize, the diftant blifs they crave,
And find the glorious treasure in the grave.
Why is the wretch condemn'd without relief,
To combat woe, and tread the round of grief,
Whom in the toils of fate his God has bound,
And drawn the line of miferies around?

When nature calls for aid, my fighs intrude,
My tears prevent my necessary food:

Like a full ftream o'ercharg'd, my forrows flow,
In bursts of anguish, and a tide of woe;
For now the dire affliction which I fled,
Pours like a roaring torrent on my head.
My terrors ftill the phantom view'd, and wrought
The dreadful image into every thought:
At length pluck'd down, the fatal stroke I feel,
And lofe the fancy'd in the real ill.

The Twenty-Fifth Chapter of JoB, Paraphrased.

THEN will vain man complain and murmur ftill?

And ftand on terms with his Creator's will?

Shall this high privilege to clay be given?
Shall duft arraign the providence of heaven?

With reafon's line the boundless distance scan;
Oppofe heaven's awful majefty to man.
To what a length his vaft dominions run?
How far beyond the journeys of the fun?
He hung yon' golden balls of light on high,
And launch'd the planets through the liquid sky :
To rolling worlds he mark'd the certain space,
Fixt and fuftain'd the elemental peace.

Unnumber'd as thofe worlds his armies move,
And the gay legions guard his realms above;
High o'er th' ethereal plains, the myriads rise,
And pour their flaming ranks along the skies:
From their bright arms inceffant fplendors ftream,
And the wide azure kindles with the gleam.

To this low world he bids the light repair,
Down through the gulphs of undulating air:
For man he taught the glorious fun to roll,
From his bright barrier to his western goal.

How then fhall man, thus infolently proud,
Plead with his Judge, and combat with his God ?
How from his mortal mother can he come,
Unftain'd from fin, untinctur'd from the womb ?
The Lord from his fublime empyreal throne,
As a dark globe, regards the filver moon.
Thofe ftars, that grace the wide celeftial plain,
Are but the humbleft sweepings of his train;
Dim are the brightest splendors of the sky;
And the fun darkens in Jehovah's eye.

But does not fin diffuse a fouler ftain,
And thicker darknefs cloud the foul of man?

Shall

Shall he the depths of endless wisdom know?

This fhort-liv'd fovereign of the world below?
His frail original confounds his boaft,

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Sprung from the ground, and quicken'd from the duft.

The Song of MOSES, in the Fifteenth Chapter of EXODUS, Paraphrafed.

HEN to the Lord, the vast triumphant throng

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Of Ifrael's fons, with Mofes, rais'd the fong. To God our grateful accents will we raise, And every tongue fhall celebrate his praife: Behold display'd the wonders of his might; Behold the Lord triumphant in the fight! With what immortal fame and glory grac'd! What trophies rais'd amid the watery waste! How did his power the fteeds and riders sweep Ingulph'd in heaps, and whelm'd beneath the deep? Whom should we fear, while he, heaven's awful Lord, Unfheaths for Ifrael his avenging sword? His outstretch'd arm, and tutelary care, Guarded and fav'd us in the laft defpair: His mercy eas'd us from our circling pains, Unbound our fhackles, and unlock'd our chains. To him our God, our Fathers God, I'll rear A facred temple, and adore him there, With vows and incenfe, facrifice and prayer. The Lord commands in war; his matchlefs might Hangs out and guides the balance of the fight: By him the war the mighty leaders form, And teach the hovering tumult where to form.

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