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And in myself am loft! at Home a Stranger, Thought wanders up and down, furpriz'd, aghaft, And wondering at her own: How Reason reels! O what a Miracle to Man is Man,

Triumphantly diftrefs'd! what Joy, what Dread!
Alternately tranfported, and alarm'd!

What can preserve my Life? or what destroy?
An Angel's Arm can't fnatch me from the Grave;
Legions of Angels can't confine me There.

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A PRAYER.

YOUNG.

Thou great Arbiter of Life and Death! Nature's immortal, immaterial Sun ! Whose all prolific Beam late call'd me forth From Darkness, teeming Darkness, where I lay The Worm's inferior, and in Rank, beneath The Duft I tread on, high to bear my Brow; To drink the Spirit of the golden Day, And triumph in Existence; and could'st know No Motive but my Blifs; and hast ordain'd A Rife in Bleffing! with the Patriarch's Joy, Thy Call I follow to the Land unknown; I trust in thee, and know in whom I trust; Or Life, or Death, is equal; neither weighs, All Weight in this-O let me live to Thee !

The Darkness of Providence.

TH

ADDISON.

HE Ways of Heaven are dark and intricate,
Puzzled in Mazes, and perplex'd with

Errors:

Our Understanding traces them in vain,

Loft and bewilder'd in the fruitless Search;

Nor

Nor fees with how much Art the Windings run,
Nor where the regular Confufion ends.

I'

Cato's Soliloquy on the Immortality of the Soul.

ADDISON.

T must be fo-Plato, thou reason'st well!

Elfe whence this pleafing Hope, this fond Defire, This Longing after Immortality?

Or whence this fecret Dread, and inward Horror,
Of falling into Nought? why fhrinks the Soul
Back on herself, and startles at Destruction?
'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us,

'Tis Heaven itself that points out an Hereafter,
And intimates Eternity to Man.

Eternity! thou pleafing, dreadful Thought!
Through what Variety of untry'd Being,
Through what new Scenes and Changes must we pass!
The wide, th' unbounded Prospect lies before me;
But Shadows, Clouds, and Darkness reft upon
it.
Here will I hold. If there's a Power above us,
(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.

The SICK MAN and the ANGEL.

S there no Hope? the fick Man faid, '

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And took his Leave with Signs of Sorrow,
Defpairing of his Fee To-morrow.

GAY.

When thus the Man, with gasping Breath, I feel the chilling Wound of Death,

F 2

Since

Since I muft bid this World adieu,
Let me my former Life review.
I grant, my Bargains well were made,
But all Men over-reach in Trade;
'Tis Self-Defence in each Profeffion;
Sure Self-Defence is no Tranfgreffion.
The little Portion in my Hands,
By good Security on Lands,
Is well increas'd. If unawares,
My Justice to myself and Heirs,
Hath let my Debtor rot in Jail,
For Want of good sufficient Bail;
If I by Writ, or Bond, or Deed,
Reduc'd a Family to Need,

My Will hath made the World Amends ;

My Hope on Charity depends,

When I am number'd with the Dead,

And all my pious Gifts are read,

By Heaven and Earth 'twill then be known,
My Charities were amply shown.

Ah Friend! he cry'd,

An Angel came.
No more in flatt'ring Hope confide.
Can thy good Deeds in former Times
Outweigh the Balance of thy Crimes ?
What Widow or what Orphan prays
To crown thy Life with Length of Days?
A pious Action's in thy Power,
Embrace with Joy the happy Hour;
Now, while you draw the vital Air,
Prove your Intention is fincere:
This Inftant give an Hundred Pound;
Your Neighbours want, and you abound.

But

But why fuch Hafte, the fick Man whines, Who knows as yet what Heaven defigns?. Perhaps I may recover still:

That Sum and more are in my Will.

Fool, fays the Vifion, now 'tis plain,
Your Life, your Soul, your Heav'n was Gain;
From every Side, with all your Might,
You scrap'd, and scrap'd beyond your Right,.
And after Death would fain atone,
By giving what is not your own.

While there is Life, there's Hope, he cry'd: Then why fuch Hafte? fo groan'd and dy'd.

F

The HARE and many

FRIENDS.

GAY.

RIENDSHIP, like Love, is but a Name, Unless to one you stint the Flame. The Child, whom many Fathers fhare, Hath feldom known a Father's Care; 'Tis thus in Friendships; who depend many, rarely find a Friend.

On

A Hare, who, in a civil Way,
Complied with every Thing, like Gay,
Was known by all the bestial Train,
Who haunt the Wood, or graze the Plain;
Her Care was, never to offend,

And ev'ry Creature was her Friend.

As forth fhe went at early Dawn, To taste the dew-besprinkled Lawn,

F 3

Behind

Behind the hears the Hunter's Cries,
And from the deep-mouth'd Thunder flies;
She starts, fe ftops, the pants for Breath,
She hears the near Advance of Death,
She doubles to mislead the Hound,
And measures back her mazy Round;
"Till, fainting in the public Way,
Half-dead with Fear the gasping lay.

What Transport in her Bofom grew,
When first the Horse appear'd in View!

Let me, fays fhe, your Back afcend,
And owe my Safety to a Friend;
You know my Feet betray my Flight,
To Friendship ev'ry Burden's light.

The Horse reply'd, poor honeft Pufs,
It grieves my Heart to fee thee thus ;
Be comforted, Relief is near;

For all your Friends are in the Rear.

She next the ftately Bull implor'd;
And thus reply'd the mighty Lord:
Since ev'ry Beast alive can tell
That I fincerely wish you well,
I may, without Offence, pretend
To take the Freedom of a Friend;
Love calls me hence: a fav'rite Cow
Expects me near yon Barley Mow;
And when a Lady's in the Case,
You know all other Things give Place.
To leave you thus might seem unkind;
But fee the Goat is just behind.

The

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