Well spent in such a strife, may earn indeed

And for a time infure to his lov'd land

The sweets of liberty and equal laws;

But martyrs struggle for a brighter prize,

And win it with more pain. Their blood is fhed
In confirmation of the noblcft claim,

Our claim to feed upon immortal truth,

To walk with God, to be divinely free,

To foar, and to anticipate the fkies.

Yet few remember them. They liv'd unknown
Till perfecution dragg'd them into fame,

And chas'd them up to heaven. Their afhes flew
-No marble tells us whither.

With their names

No bard embalms and fanctifies his fong;
And History, fo warm on meaner themes,
Is cold on this. She execrates indeed
The tyranny that doom'd them to the fire,
But gives the glorious fuff'rers little praise.*

**See Hume.

He

He is the freeman whom the truth makes free,

And all are flaves befide.

There's not a chain

That hellish foes, confed'rate for his harm,

Can wind around him, but he cafts it off
With as much eafe as Samfon his green wyths.
He looks abroad into the varied field

Of Nature, and though poor perhaps, compar'd
With those whofe manfions glitter in his fight,
Calls the delightful fcen'ry all his own.

His are the mountains, and the vallies his,
And the refplendent rivers. His t' enjoy
With a propriety that none can feel,
But who, with filial confidence inspir'd,
Can lift to heav'n an unprefumptuous eye,

And fmiling fay-my Father made them all.
Are they not his by a peculiar right,

And by an emphasis of int'rest his,

Whofe eye they fill with tears of holy joy,
Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind
With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love

That

That plann'd, and built, and still upholds a world

So cloath'd with beauty, for rebellious man?

Yes-ye may fill your garners, ye

that reap

The loaded foil, and ye may wafte much good

In fenfeless riot; but ye will not find

In feast or in the chace, in fong or dance,
A liberty like his, who unimpeach'd
Of ufurpation, and to no man's wrong,
Appropriates nature as his father's work,
And has a richer ufe of yours, than you.
He is indeed a freeman. Free by birth
Of no mean city, plann'd or 'ere the hills
Were built, the fountains open'd, or the fea
With all his roaring multitude of waves.
His freedom is the fame in every state,
And no condition of this changeful life,
So manifold in cares, whofe ev'ry day

Brings its own evil with it, makes it lefs:

For he has wings that neither fickness, pain,

Nor penury, can cripple or confine.

No nook fo narrow but he fpreads them there With ease, and is at large. Th' oppreffor holds His body bound, but knows not what a range His spirit takes, unconscious of a chain;

And that to bind him is a vain attempt

Whom God delights in, and in whom he dwells.

Acquaint thyself with God, if thou would'st taste His works. Admitted once to his embrace, Thou shalt perceive that thou waft blind before: Thine eye shall be instructed, and thine heart, Made pure, fhall relish, with divine delight 'Till then unfelt, what hands divine have wrought. Brutes graze the mountain-top, with faces prone And eyes intent upon the scanty herb It yields them, or recumbent on its brow, Ruminate heedlefs of the scene outspread Beneath, beyond, and stretching far away From inland regions to the distant main. Man views it and admires, but refts content

With what he views. The landscape has his praife,

But not its author.

Unconcern'd who form'd

The paradife he fees, he finds it fuch,

And such well-pleas'd to find it, asks no more.

Not fo the mind that has been 'touch'd from heav'n,
And in the school of facred wisdom taught

To read his wonders, in whofe thought the world,
Fair as it is, exifted ere it was.

Not for its own fake merely, but for his

Much more who fashion'd it, he gives it praife;
Praife that from earth refulting as it ought
To earth's acknowledg'd fov'reign, finds at once
Its only just proprietor in Him.

The foul that fees him, or receives fublim'd

New faculties, or learns at least t' employ

More worthily the pow'rs the own'd before

Difcerns in all things, what with stupid gaze
Of ignorance till then fhe overlook'd,

A

ray of heav'nly light gilding all forms Terreftrial in the vaft and the minute,

The