The Poetical Works of Edward Young | Page 5

gilded
theatres invade the skies,
Nations shall wake, whose unrespected
bones
Support the pride of their luxurious sons.
The most
magnificent and costly dome
Is but an upper chamber to the tomb.

No spot on earth but has supplied a grave,
And human skulls the
spacious ocean pave.
All's full of man; and at this dreadful turn,

The swarm shall issue, and the hive shall burn.
Not all at once, nor in
like manner, rise:
Some lift with pain their slow, unwilling eyes:

Shrink backward from the terror of the light,
And bless the grave, and
call for lasting night.
Others, whose long-attempted virtue stood

Fix'd as a rock, and broke the rushing flood,
Whose firm resolve, nor
beauty could melt down,
Nor raging tyrants from their posture frown;

Such, in this day of horrors, shall be seen
To face the thunders with
a godlike mien;
The planets drop, their thoughts are fixt above;
The
centre shakes, their hearts disdain to move;
An earth dissolving, and a
heaven thrown wide,
A yawning gulf, and fiends on every side,

Serene they view, impatient of delay,
And bless the dawn of
everlasting day.
Here, greatness prostrate falls; there, strength gives
place; Here, lazars smile; there, beauty hides her face.
Christians, and
Jews, and Turks, and Pagans stand,
A blended throng, one
undistinguish'd band.
Some who, perhaps, by mutual wounds expir'd,

With zeal for their distinct persuasions fir'd,
In mutual friendship
their long slumber break,
And hand in hand their Saviour's love
partake.
But none are flush'd with brighter joy, or, warm
With juster
confidence, enjoy the storm,
Than those, whose pious bounties,

unconfin'd,
Have made them public fathers of mankind.
In that
illustrious rank, what shining light
With such distinguish'd glory fills
my sight?
Bend down, my grateful muse, that homage show,
Which
to such worthies thou art proud to owe.
Wickham! Fox! Chichley!
hail, illustrious names,(3)
Who to far distant times dispense your
beams;
Beneath your shades, and near your crystal springs,
I first
presum'd to touch the trembling strings.
All hail, thrice honour'd!
'Twas your great renown
To bless a people, and oblige a crown.

And now you rise, eternally to shine,
Eternally to drink the rays
divine.
Indulgent God! Oh how shall mortal raise
His soul to due
returns of grateful praise,
For bounty so profuse to humankind,
Thy
wondrous gift of an eternal mind?
Shall I, who, some few years ago,
was less
Than worm, or mite, or shadow can express,
Was nothing;
shall I live, when every fire
And every star shall languish and expire?

When earth's no more, shall I survive above,
And thro' the radiant
files of angels move?
Or, as before the throne of God I stand,
See
new worlds rolling from his spacious hand,
Where our adventures
shall perhaps be taught,
As we now tell how Michael sung or fought?

All that has being in full concert join,
And celebrate the depths of
love divine!
But oh! before this blissful state, before
Th' aspiring
soul this wondrous height can soar,
The Judge, descending, thunders
from afar,
And all mankind is summon'd to the bar.
This mighty
scene I next presume to draw:
Attend, great Anna, with religious awe.

Expect not here the known successful arts
To win attention, and
command our hearts:
Fiction, be far away; let no machine

Descending here, no fabled god, be seen;

Behold the God of gods
indeed descend,
And worlds unnumber'd his approach attend!
Lo!
the wide theatre, whose ample space
Must entertain the whole of
human race,
At heaven's all-powerful edict is prepar'd,
And fenc'd
around with an immortal guard.
Tribes, provinces, dominions, worlds,
o'erflow
The mighty plain, and deluge all below:
And every age,
and nation, pours along,
Nimrod and Bourbon mingle in the throng:

Adam salutes his youngest son; no sign,
Of all those ages, which

their births disjoin.
How empty learning, and how vain is art,
But as
it mends the life, and guides the heart!
What volumes have been
swell'd, what time been spent,
To fix a hero's birth-day, or descent!

What joy must it now yield, what rapture raise,
To see the glorious
race of ancient days!
To greet those worthies who perhaps have stood

Illustrious on record before the flood!
Alas! a nearer care your soul
demands,
Cæsar unnoted in your presence stands.
How vast the
concourse! not in number more
The waves that break on the
resounding shore,
The leaves that tremble in the shady grove,
The
lamps that gild the spangled vaults above:
Those overwhelming
armies, whose command
Said to one empire, fall; another, stand:

Whose rear lay wrapt in night, while breaking dawn
Rous'd the broad
front, and call'd the battle on:
Great Xerxes' world in arms, proud
Cannæ's field,
Where Carthage taught victorious Rome to yield,

(Another blow had broke the fates' decree,
And earth had wanted her
fourth monarchy,)
Immortal Blenheim, fam'd Ramillia's host,
They
all are here, and here they all are lost:
Their millions swell to be
discern'd in vain,
Lost as a billow in th' unbounded main.
This
echoing voice now rends the yielding air,
For judgment, judgment,
sons of men, prepare!
Earth shakes anew; I hear her groans profound;

And hell through all her trembling realms resound.
Whoe'er thou
art, thou greatest power of earth,
Blest with most equal planets at thy
birth;
Whose valour drew the most successful sword,
Most realms
united in one common lord;
Who, on the day of triumph, saidst, Be
thine
The skies, Jehovah, all this world is mine:
Dare not