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Reason was given to curb our headftrong Will, And yet but ihews a weak Physician's Skill; Gives nothing while the raging Fit does last; But stays to cure it when the Worst is pass'd : Reason's a Sraff for Age, when Nature's gone ; But Youth is strong enough to walk alone. Dryd. Cong. of Grex,
Our Passions gone, and Reason in her Throne, Amaz'd we see the Mischiefs we have done: After a Tempest, when the Winds are laid, The calm Sea wonders at the Wrecks it made.
Wa Oh why did Heav'n leave Man fo weak Defence, To trust frail Reason with the Rule of Sense ? 'Tis overpois'd, and kick'd up in the Air ; While Sense weighs down the Scale, and keeps it there : Or, like a Caprive King, 'tis born away, And forc'd to count'nance its own Rebels Sway :
Oh no! our Reason was not vainly lent,
Nor is a Slave, but by its own Content :
If Reaton on bis Subjets Triumph wait,
An easy King deferves no better Fate. Dryd. Cong. of Grau.
The common Cry is ever Religion's Teft;
The Turk's is at Confiantinople beft;
Idols in India, Popery at Rome ;
And our own Worship only true at home :
And crue but for the Time; 'tis hard to know
How long we please it shall continue so.
This Side to Day, and that to Morrow burns;
So all are God-A'nighty in their Turns.
Turning of Religion's made
The means to turn and wind a Trade :
And tho' some change it for a worse,
They put themselves into a Course.
For all Religions flock together,
Like tane and wild Fowl of a Feather,
Hence 'tis Hypocrify as well,
Will serve t'improve a Church, as Zeal:
As Persecution or Promotion
Do equally advance Devotion.
To prove Religion true
If either Wit or Suff'rings could suffice,
All Faiths afford the Constant and the Wise ;
And yet, ev'n they, by Education (way'd,
In Age defend what Infancy obey'd.
Dryd. Ind. Emp. All Faiths are to their own Believers just, For none believe, because they will, but muft. Dryd. Tyr.Love:
By Education most have been misled, $5 they believe, because they fo were bred.
The Priest continues what the Nurse began,
And thus the Child imposes on the Man. Dryd. Hind and Panth.
Look round, how Providence bestows alike
Sun-thine and Rain, to bless.the fruitful Year,
On diff'rent Nations, all of diff'rent Faiths :
And (tho' by several Names and Titles worship’d)
Heav'n takes the various Tribute of their Praise ;
Since all agree to own, at least to mean,
One best, one greatest, only Lord of All. Row, Tamerl.
All under various Names adore and love One Power Immense, which ever rules above. Dryd. Ind. Emp.
If you've Religion, keep it to your self; Atheists will elfe make use of Toleration, And laugh you out on't. Never shew Religion, Unless you mean to pass for Knaves of Conscience, And cheap believing Fools that think you honest. Otw. Orph.
REPENTANCE. See Nunnery. These Books teach holy Sorrow and Contrition And Penitence. Is it become an Art chen ? A Trick that lazy, dull, luxuricus Gown-men Can teach us to do over ? I'll no more on'c. I have more real Anguilh in my Heart, Than all their Pedant Discipline e'er knew. Row. Fair Pena
Thoughts cannot form themselves in Words so horrid, As can express my Guilt.
Dryd. All for Love, Let that Night, That guilty Night be blotted from the Year ; Let not the Voice of Mirth or Musick know't. Let it be dark and defolare : No Stars To glitter o'er it : Let it wilh for Light, Yet want it still, and vainly wait the Dawn : For 'twas the Night that gave me up to Shame. Row. Fair Pen.
This fatal Form, that drew on my undoing, Fasting and Tears and Hard hip thall destroy; Nor Light, nor Food, nor Comfort will I know, Nor ought that may continue hated Life. Then when you see me meagre, wan, and chang’d, Stretch'd at my Length, and dying in my Cave, On that cold Éarch I mean Iball be my Grave, Perhaps you may relent, and sighing say, At length her Tears have wash'd her Stain's away. At length 'tis time her Punishment shou'd cease, Dye then poor suff'ring Wretch, and be at Peace. Row. FairPen.
Let Wretches, loaded hard with Guilt, as I am, Bow with the Weight, and groan beneath the Burthen, Creep with the Remnant of the Strength they've left, Before the Footstool of the Heav'n they've injur'd, O.Ven. Pref.
Oh my Offence is rank! it smells to Heav'n ;
It bas the primal eldest Curse upon it,
A Brother's Murther! Pray, I cannot,
Tho' Inclination be as sharp as Will,
My stronger Guilt defeats my strong Intent,
And like a Man, to double Bus'ness bound,
I stand in Pause where I shall first begin,
And both negle&t : What if this curled Hand
Were thicker than it self with Brother's Blood,
Is there not Rain enough in the sweet Heav'ns,
To wash it White as Snow? Whereto serves Mercy,
But to confront the Visage of Offence ?
And what's in Prayer but this twofold Force,
To be forestalled e'er we come to fall,
Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up:
My Fault is past : But oh what Form of Prayer
Can serve my Turn ? Forgive me my foul Murther!
That cannot be, since I am still poffeís'd
Of those Effects for which I did the Murther!
My Crown, my own Ambition, and my Queen.
May one be pardon'd, and retain th'Offence ? Shak. Ham.
No! while our former Flames remain within,
Repentance is but want of Pow'r to fin. Dryd. Pal. Arco
In the corrupted Currents of this World,
Offence's gilded Hand may shove by Justice :
And oft 'iis seen, the wicked Prize it self
Buys out the Law : But 'tis not so above.
There is no Shuffiling, there the Action lies
In its true Nature ; and we our selves compellid
Ev'n to the Teeth and Forehead of our Faults,
To give in Evidence: What then ? What rests ?
Try what Repentance can! what can it not?
Yet what can it, when one cannot repent ?
Oh wretched State! Oh Bosom black as Death!
Oh limed Soul! that, struggling to be free,
Art more ingag’d: Help, Angels! make Essay!
Bow stubborn Knees, and Heart with Strings of Steel,
Be soft as Sinews of the new-born Babe.
All may be well.
For true repentance never comes too late ;
Afsoon as born, ihe makes herself a Shrowd,
The weeping Mantle of a fleecy Cloud ;
And swift as Thought her airy Journey takes,
Her Hand Heav'n's Azure Gate with trembling strikes,
The Stars do with Amazement on her Look,
She tells her Story in fo fad a Tone,
That Angels fart from Bliss, and give a Groan. Lee Maf. of Par.
So cheers some pious Saint a dying Sinner, Who trembled at the Thoughts of Pains to come, With Heav'ns Forgiveness, and the Hopes of Mercy: At length the Tumult of his Soul appeas'd, And ev'ry Doubt and anxious Scruple easid, Boldly he proves the dark uncertain Road; The Peace his holy Comforter bestow'd, Guides and protects him like a Guardian God. Rom. Tamerl.
REPUTATION. Good Name in Man or Woman, Is the immediate Jewel of our Souls. Who steals my Purse steals Trash; 'tis something, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been Slave to thousands: But he that filches from me my good Name, Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.
Th'Arch-Angel's Trumpet shakes the trembling Ground:
The startled Dead awaken at the Sound;
The Grave resigns her antient Spoils, and all
Death's adamantine Prisons burft and fall :
The Souls that did their forc'd Departure mourn,
To the fame Bodies with swift Flight return.
The crowding Atoms re-unite apace,
All without Tumult know and take their Place:
Th'assembled Bones leap quick into their Frame,
And the warm Blood renews a brighter Flame.
The quicken'd Dust feels fresh and youthful Heats,
While its old Task the beacing Heart repeats.
The Eyes, enliven’d with new vital Light,
Open, admiring whence they had their Sight.
The Veins too twine their bloody Arms around
The Limbs, and with red leaping Life abound.
Hard-twisted Nerves new-brace, and faster bind
The close-knit Joints, no more to be disjoin'd.
Strong new-fpun Threads immortal Muscles make,
That justly fix'd, their antient Figure take.
Brisk Spirits take their upper Seats, and dart
Thro their known Channels thence to ev'ry Part.
The Men now draw their long forgotten Breath,
And striving, break th’unweildy Chains of Death.
Victorious Life to ev'ry Grave resorts,
And rifles Death's inhospitable Courts :
Its Vigour through those dark Dominions spread,
From all cheir gloomy Mansions frees the Dead.
Now ripe Conceptions through the Earth abound,
And new-sprung Men stand thick on all the Ground.
The Sepulchres are quick, and ev'ry Tomb
Labours with Life, and grows a fruitful Womb.
Whom Thunder's dismal Noise,
And all that Prophets and Apostles louder spake,
And all the Creatures plain conspiring Voice,
Could poc, whilst they liv'd awake ;
This mightier Sound Ihall make,
When dead arise :
And open Tombs, and open Eyes,
To the long Sluggards of five thoufand Years ;
This mightier Sound fhall make its Hearers Ears.
Then thall the scatter'd Atoms crowding come
Back to their antient Home ;
Some from Birds, from Filhes some,
Some from Earth, and some from Seas,
Some from Beafts, and some from Trees,
Some descend from Clouds on high,
Some from Metals upward fly,
And where th'attending Soul naked and shiv'ring stands,
Meet, salute, and join their Hands;
As dispers'd Soldiers at the Trumpet's Call,
Hafte to their Colours all ;
Unhappy most, like tortur’d Men,
Their Joints new-fer, to be new-rack'd agen.
To Mountains they for Shelter pray,
(Cowl. The Mountains shake, and run about no less confus'd than they.
As compass’d with a Wood of Spears around,
The lordly Lion ftill maintains his Ground;
Grins horrible, retires, and turns again,
Threats his diftended Paws, and shakes his Mane ;
He loses, while in vain he presses on,
Nor will his Courage let him dare to run:
So Turnus fares; and, unrefolv'd of Flight,
Moves tardy back, and just recedes from Fight :
Difdains to yield,
And with flow Paces measures back the Field,
And inches to the Walls
Exalted Socrates ! divinely brave!
Injur'd he fell, and dying he forgave :
He drank the roys'ocus Draught
With Mind rrene, and could not wish to see
His vile Accuftr drink as deep as he.