Celestial truths in holy dreams are taught,
And busy silence plumes the wings of thought.

Here Knowledge shelter'd from the noontide ray,
Frequent was wont with chaste delight to stray ;-
Yet none, not deities, if born below,

The fates exempt from violence and woe :
For here as once she sate in thought profound,
Her mind in heav'n, her eyes upon the ground,
And mus'd on man's free will, Jove's fixt decrees,
On choice, on prescience which all future sees,
On acts impell❜d by motives strong as fate,
Rewarded, punished, in an endless state,
On chance, necessity, effect, and cause,
Great nature's end, and truth's eternal laws.-
Lo! the huge form of Ignorance appear'd,
Whom known by instinct, she by instinct fear'd:
With terror wing'd the virgin flies the place,
The monster follows with unequal pace;
Though, fir'd with brutal rage, he perseveres,
The wid❜ning distance half dispell'd her fears;
When now, too much elated with her speed,
Her lifted eyes no more her footsteps heed;
She stumbles, falls;-the ravisher is nigh;—
"Tis vain to plead, impossible to fly ;--

His ideot form compress'd the trembling maid,
And his rude joys profan'd the conscious shade:
But from the loath'd embrace the pregnant dame
Conceiv'd a son, and Doubt, when born, his name ;
Fond of his mother's virtues to partake,

Who shuns and hates him for his father's sake.

GOD IS LOVE.

Thou! at whose touch the snow-clad mountains smoke,
Eternal wisdom! touch my lips profane !

O! touch my heart! my heart, tho' cold shall glow,
My lips breathe eloquence divine! for not
Of earth, in earth-born strains, I mean to sing
Adven'trous, but of thee, thy love, alone
Thy wisdom knows, thy love my awful theme!
Let me not err, low grov'ling in the dust;→
Let me not fall, high tow'ring to the sky-
O! where shall I begin? how trace the source
Of all! how fathom vast immensity!

Long as the God has been who ne'er began,
Trac'd back and backward still, but trac'd in vain,
Love has so long existed; God is love!

Who name him other, know not yet his name;
And if they seek him, lost in error's gloom,
Or superstition's lab'rynth, find him not.

Whate'er the glimm'ring lamp of reason show'd
Of God, through pagan darkness, all was love;
Whate'er the bright effulgence of thy sun,
Blest revelation! has display'd, all still

Is love! this pendent world, those rolling orbs,
Nature's whole system speaks its maker kind.

The varied fruits and flow'rs, the pleasing change
Of day and night, the painted landscape round
Of hill and dale, clear fountain, shady wood,
The glitt❜ring dew of morn, the crimson'd cloud
Of ev❜ning mild, the sweetly varied song,
The peopled earth, and air, and sea, all parts
Of one stupendous whole, and fram'd for bliss,
Proclaim him good-Lord of this blest domain,

Not male alone, but male and female form'd,
When man receiv'd the breath of life, and took
The stamp divine, the image of the God,

What gift was each to each! low lovely both!
Who can their form describe, or who conceive?
Consummate beauty, test of skill divine.
Thrice happy pair-to late degen'rate times
Your morn and evening song had some blest bard
Transmitted fair, in strains by heav'n inspir'd.
These had the gloomy bigot read abash'd,
And own'd that God is love; but man, alas!
Fell from the perfect beauty, pure desire,
Fell to deformity, and age, and death,
And hate, and envy, violence, and guilt.—
He fell;-yet unremitted goodness spoke
To man, apostate as he was, the words
Of peace; gave mis'ry hope, and show'd above
A brighter paradise, than Eden's grove,
His portion, when the woman's promis'd seed
Should bruise the serpent's head :-amazing grace!
The promis'd seed was giv'n; the fullness then
Of Godhead dwelt in flesh! high heaven itself
No more contains th' astonishment and joy,
But down its radiant hosts impatient pour
And peace proclaim on earth, good will to man.
Oh! join the transports of th' angelic choir,
And sing, responding to the hallow'd strain
To God be glory-but, tremendous scene!
Whom do I see, in yon drear waste, forlorn!

Whom tempted there! who stretch'd on earth sweats blood!

What ruffian band is that? whom do they drag

Betray'd, insulted, through a scoffing crowd?

Whom do they scourge, whom crown with thorns,

remorseless?

Yet hold barbarians-snatch me from the sight
Ye whirlwinds! crush me mountains-dreadful!
Horrid! upon the cross, they strain, they nail
The Lord of Life! they rear it! hark he prays-
Father forgive, they know not what they do!"---
Stupendous! what is language? what is thought?
Astonish'd nature trembles! from the graves

The dead come forth! rocks rend! the sun witholds
The day!-'tis past! the Saviour groans, and dies!
Oh! let me bending to the dust, dissolve

In silent admiration! let my soul

Attest in unexpressive thought, that God
Is love! and dare I, dare a grov❜ling worm
Rejoice in scenes like these? O teach me, thou
My Saviour! teach me to divide aright

My love, and awe; my joy, and grief; O teach
My soul the trembling hope, the humble trust,
To feel in gratitude that God is Love!

THE DEATH OF ARACHNE:

An heroi-comi-tragic-Poem.

The shrinking brooks and russet meads complain'd
That summer's tyrant, fervid Sirius reign'd;
Full west the sun from heav'n descending rode,
And six the shadow on the dial show'd.

Philo, though young, to musing much inclin'd,
A shameless sloven in his gown had din'd,
From table sneaking with a sheepish face,
Before the circle was dismiss'd with grace;

And smoaking now, his desk with books o'erspread,
Thick clouds of incence roll around his head;

His head, which save a quarter's growth of hair,→
His woollen cap long since scratch'd off, was bare ;-
His beard three days had grown, of golden hue:
Black was his shirt, uncomely to the view;
Cross-legg❜d he sat, and his ungarter❜d hose
Of each lean limb half hide, and half expose:
His cheek he lean'd upon his hand, below
His nut-brown slipper hung upon his toe.

Now with abstracted flight he climbs apace,
High and more high, through pure unbounded space;
Now mere privation fails the wings of thought,
He drops down headlong through the vast of nought!
A friendly vapour Mathesis supplies,

Borne on the surging smoke he joys to rise;
Matter through modes and qualities pursues,
Now caught, entranc'd its naked essence views:
Now wakes; the vision fading from his sight
Leaves doubts behind, the mists of mental night;
Existing not, but possible alone,

He deems all substance, and suspects his own;
Like wave by wave impell'd, now questions roll
Does soul in aught subsist, or all in soul?
Is space, extension, nothing but a name,
And mere idea nature's mighty frame?
All pow'r, all forms, to intellect confin'd,
Place, agent, subject, instrument combin❜d?
Is spirit diverse, yet from number free,
Conjoin'd by harmony in unity?-

Truth's spotless white what piercing eye descries,
When the ray broken takes opinion's dyes !—