The Poetical Works of Edward Young | Page 8

age??Drive back the tide, suspend a storm in air,?Arrest the sun!--but still of this despair.?Mark, on the right, how amiable a grace!?Their Maker's image fresh in ev'ry face!?What purple bloom my ravish'd soul admires!?And their eyes sparkling with immortal fires!?Triumphant beauty! charms that rise above?This world, and in blest angels kindle love!?To the great Judge with holy pride they turn,?And dare behold th' Almighty's anger burn;?Its flash sustain, against its terror rise,?And on the dread tribunal fix their eyes.?Are these the forms that moulder'd in the dust??Oh the transcendent glory of the just!?Yet still some thin remains of fear and doubt,?Th' infected brightness of their joy pollute.?Thus the chaste bridegroom, when the priest draws nigh, Beholds his blessing with a trembling eye,?Feels doubtful passions throb in every vein,?And in his cheeks are mingled joy and pain,?Lest still some intervening chance should rise,?Leap forth at once, and snatch the golden prize;?Inflame his woe, by bringing it so late,?And stab him in the crisis of his fate.?Since Adam's family, from first to last,?Now into one distinct survey is cast;?Look round, vainglorious muse, and you whoe'er?Devote yourselves to fame, and think her fair;?Look round, and seek the lights of human race,?Whose shining acts time's brightest annals grace;?Who founded sects; crowns conquer'd, or resign'd;?Gave names to nations: or fam'd empires join'd;?Who raised the vale, and laid the mountain low;?And taught obedient rivers where to flow;?Who with vast fleets, as with a mighty chain,?Could bind the madness of the roaring main:?All lost? all undistinguish'd? nowhere found??How will this truth in Bourbon's palace sound??That hour, on which the Almighty King on high?From all eternity has fix'd his eye,?Whether his right hand favour'd, or annoy'd,?Continu'd, alter'd, threaten'd, or destroy'd;?Southern or eastern sceptre downward hurl'd,?Gave north or west dominion o'er the world;?The point of time, for which the world was built,?For which the blood of God himself was spilt,?That dreadful moment is arriv'd.?Aloft, the seats of bliss their pomp display?Brighter than brightness, this distinguish'd day;?Less glorious, when of old th' eternal Son?From realms of night return'd with trophies won:?Thro' heaven's high gates, when he triumphant rode,?And shouting angels hail'd the victor God.?Horrors, beneath, darkness in darkness, hell?Of hell, where torments behind torments dwell;?A furnace formidable, deep, and wide,?O'erboiling with a mad sulphureous tide,?Expands its jaws, most dreadful to survey,?And roars outrageous for the destin'd prey.?The sons of light scarce unappall'd look down,?And nearer press heaven's everlasting throne.?Such is the scene; and one short moment's space?Concludes the hopes and fears of human race.?Proceed who dares!--I tremble as I write,?The whole creation swims before my sight:?I see, I see, the Judge's frowning brow;?Say not, 'tis distant; I behold it now;?I faint, my tardy blood forgets to flow,?My soul recoils at the stupendous woe;?That woe, those pangs, which from the guilty breast,?In these, or words like these, shall be exprest.?"Who burst the barriers of my peaceful grave??Ah! cruel death, that would no longer save,?But grudg'd me e'en that narrow dark abode,?And cast me out into the wrath of God;?Where shrieks, the roaring flame, the rattling chain,?And all the dreadful eloquence of pain,?Our only song; black fire's malignant light,?The sole refreshment of the blasted sight.?Must all those pow'rs, heaven gave me to supply?My soul with pleasure, and bring in my joy,?Rise up in arms against me, join the foe,?Sense, reason, memory, increase my woe??And shall my voice, ordain'd on hymns to dwell,?Corrupt to groans, and blow the fires of hell??Oh! must I look with terror on my gain,?And with existence only measure pain??What! no reprieve, no least indulgence given,?No beam of hope, from any point of heaven!?Ah mercy! mercy! art thou dead above??Is love extinguish'd in the source of love??"Bold that I am, did heaven stoop down to hell??Th' expiring Lord of life my ransom seal??Have I not been industrious to provoke??From his embraces obstinately broke??Pursu'd and panted for his mortal hate,?Earn'd my destruction, labour'd out my fate??And dare I on extinguish'd love exclaim??Take, take full vengeance, rouse the slack'ning flame;?Just is my lot--but oh! must it transcend?The reach of time, despair a distant end??With dreadful growth shoot forward, and arise,?Where thought can't follow, and bold fancy dies??"Never! where falls the soul at that dread sound??Down an abyss how dark, and how profound??Down, down, (I still am falling, horrid pain!)?Ten thousand thousand fathoms still remain;?My plunge but still begun--And this for sin??Could I offend, if I had never been,?But still increas'd the senseless happy mass,?Flow'd in the stream, or shiver'd in the grass??"Father of mercies! why from silent earth?Didst thou awake, and curse me into birth??Tear me from quiet, ravish me from night,?And make a thankless present of thy light??Push into being a reverse of thee,?And animate a clod with misery??"The beasts are happy; they come forth, and keep?Short watch on earth, and then lie down to sleep.?Pain is for man; and