English Poets of the Eighteenth Century eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 437 pages of information about English Poets of the Eighteenth Century.

  Live ever here, Lorenzo?  Shocking thought! 
  So shocking, they who wish disown it, too;
  Disown from shame what they from folly crave. 
  Live ever in the womb nor see the light? 
  For what live ever here?  With labouring step
  To tread our former footsteps? pace the round
  Eternal? to climb life’s worn, heavy wheel,
  Which draws up nothing new? to beat, and beat
  The beaten track? to bid each wretched day
  The former mock? to surfeit on the same,
  And yawn our joys? or thank a misery
  For change, though sad? to see what we have seen;
  Hear, till unheard, the same old slabbered tale? 
  To taste the tasted, and at each return
  Less tasteful? o’er our palates to decant
  Another vintage? strain a flatter year,
  Through loaded vessels and a laxer tone? 
  Crazy machines, to grind earth’s wasted fruits!


  Thou most indulgent, most tremendous Power! 
  Still more tremendous for thy wondrous love! 
  That arms, with awe more awful, thy commands;
  And foul transgression dips in sevenfold guilt! 
  How our hearts tremble at thy love immense! 
  In love immense, inviolably just! 
  Thou, rather than thy justice should be stained,
  Didst stain the cross; and, work of wonders far
  The greatest, that thy dearest far might bleed.

  Bold thought! shall I dare speak it, or repress? 
  Should man more execrate, or boast, the guilt
  Which roused such vengeance? which such love inflamed? 
  Our guilt (how mountainous!) with outstretched arms,
  Stern justice and soft-smiling love embrace,
  Supporting, in full majesty, thy throne,
  When seemed its majesty to need support,
  Or that, or man, inevitably lost;
  What, but the fathomless of thought divine,
  Could labour such expedient from despair,
  And rescue both? both rescue! both exalt! 
  O how are both exalted by the deed! 
  The wondrous deed! or shall I call it more
  A wonder in Omnipotence itself! 
  A mystery no less to gods than men!

  Not thus our infidels th’ Eternal draw,—­
  A God all o’er, consummate, absolute,
  Full-orbed, in his whole round of rays complete. 
  They set at odds Heaven’s jarring attributes,
  And, with one excellence, another wound;
  Maim Heaven’s perfection, break its equal beams,
  Bid mercy triumph over—­God himself,
  Undeified by their opprobrious praise;
  A God all mercy, is a God unjust.



  In man, the more we dive, the more we see
  Heaven’s signet stamping an immortal make. 
  Dive to the bottom of the soul, the base
  Sustaining all, what find we?  Knowledge, love. 
  As light and heat essential to the sun,
  These to the soul.  And why, if souls

Project Gutenberg
English Poets of the Eighteenth Century from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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