« PoprzedniaDalej »
Faults in the life breed errors in the brain ;
None sends his arrow to the mark in view, Whose hand is feeble, or his aim untrue. For though, ere yet the shaft is on the wing, Or when it first forsakes th' elastic string, It err but little from th' intended line, It falls, at last, far wide of his design : So he, who seeks a mansion in the sky, Must watch his purpose with a steadfast eye ; That prize belongs to none but the sincere, The least obliquity is fatal here.
With caution taste the sweet Circean cup: He that sips often, at last drinks it up. Habits are soon assum'd; but when we strive To strip them off, 'tis being flay'd alive, Call’d to the temple of impure delight, He that abstains, and he alone, does right. If a wish wander that way, call it home ; He cannot long be safe whose wishes roami. But, if you pass the threshold, you are caught ; Die then, if power Almighty save you not. There, hardening by degrees, till double steeld, Take leave of nature's God, and God reveal'd ;
Then laugh at all you trembled at before ;
Some dream that they can silence when they will
But, muse, forbear ; long flights forebode a fall; Strike on the deep-ton'd chord the sum of all.
Hear the just law- the judgment of the skies ! He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies ; And he that will be cheated to the last, Delusions, strong as hell, shall bind him fast. But, if the wanderer his mistake discern, Judge his own ways, and sigh for a return, Bewilder'd once, must he bewail his loss Forever and forever? No-the cross ! There, and there only, (though the deist rave, And atheist, if earth bear so base a slave ;) There, and there only, is the power to save. There no delusive hope invites despair ; No mockery meets you, no deception, there. VOL. 1,
The spells and;charms, that blinded you before, All vanish there, and fascinate no more,
I am no preacher, let this hint sufficeThe cross, once seen, is death to every vice : Else he that hung there suffer'd all his pain, Bled, groan’d, and agoniz'd, and died, in vain,
Pensantur trutina. ----Hor. Lib. II. Epist. 1.
M AN, on the dubious waves of error toss'd,
Oh how unlike the complex works of man, Heaven's easy, artless, unincumber'd, plan! No meretricious graces to beguile, No clustering ornaments to clog the pile ; From ostentation, as from weakness free, It stands like the cerulean arch we see, Majestic in its own simplicity. Inscrib'd above the portal, from afar Conspicuous as the brightness of a star, Legible only by the light they give, Stand the soul-quickening words-BELIEVE AND LIVE! Too many, shock'd at what should charm them most, Despise the plain direction, and are lost. Heaven on such terms ! (they cry with proud disdain) Incredible, impossible, and vain ! Rebel, because 'tis easy to obey; And scorn, for its own sake, the gracious way, These are the sober, in whose cooler brains Some thought of immortality remains ; The rest, too busy, or too gay, to wait On the sad theme, their everlasting state, Sport for a day, and perish in a night ; The foam upon the waters not so light.
Who judg'd the pharisee ? What odious cause