A SONG FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY. FROM harmony, from heavenly harmony, And could not heave her head, Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry, From harmony, from heavenly harmony From harmony to harmony. Through all the compass of the notes it ran, What passion cannot Music raise and quell? Less than a God they thought there could not dwell That spoke so sweetly and so well. What passion cannot Music raise and quell ?. The trumpet's loud clangor Excites us to arms, With shrill notes of anger, And mortal alarms. The double, double, double beat Cries, "Hark! the foes come; Charge, charge, 'tis too late to retreat." The soft complaining flute In dying notes discovers Whose dirge is whispered by the warbling lute. Sharp violins complain Their jealous pangs and desperation, Depth of pains, and height of passion, Orpheus could lead the savage race; But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher GRAND CHORUS. As from the power of sacred lays So when the last and dreadful hour UNDER THE PORTRAIT OF JOHN But guide us upward to a better day. MILTON. And as these nightly tapers disappear, When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere; So pale grows Reason at Religion's sight; So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light. [From Religio Laici.] THE AVOIDANCE OF religioUS DISPUTES. A THOUSAND daily sects rise up and die; A thousand more the perished race supply; So all we make of Heaven's discovered will. Is, not to have it, or to use it ill. The danger's much the same; on several shelves If others wreck us, or we wreck ourselves. What then remains, but, waiving each extreme, The tide of ignorance and pride to stem? Neither so rich a treasure to forego, Nor proudly seek beyond our power to know: Faith is not built on disquisitions vain: The things we must believe are few and plain: But since men will believe more than they need, And every man will make himself a creed, In doubtful questions 'tis the safest way To For For the strait-gate would be made straiter yet, Were none admitted there but men | In of wit. The few by nature formed, with learning fraught, Born to instruct, as others to be taught, Must study well the sacred page: and learn what unsuspected ancients say: 'tis not likely we should higher soar search of Heaven, than all the Church before: Nor can we be deceived, unless we [gree. see The Scripture and the Fathers disaIf after all they stand suspected still, (For no man's faith depends upon his will;) 'Tis some relief, that points not clearly known, Without much hazard may be let alone: | If still our reason runs another way, That private reason 'tis more just to curb, [disturb. Than by disputes the public peace And after hearing what our Church can say, [From Eleonora.] BEAUTIFUL DEATH. As precious gums are not for lasting fire, They but perfume the temple, and expire: So was she soon exhaled and vanished hence; A short sweet odor of a vast expense. She vanished, we can scarcely say she died: For but a now did heaven and earth divide: She passed serenely with a single breath; This moment perfect health, the next was death: One sigh did her eternal bliss assure; So little penance needs, when souls are almost pure. As gentle dreams our waking thoughts pursue; Or, one dream passed, we slide into a new; So close they follow, such wild order keep, We think ourselves awake, and are asleep: So softly death succeeded life in her: She did but dream of heaven, and she was there. No pains she suffered, nor expired with noise; Her soul was whispered out with God's still voice; As an old friend is beckoned to a feast, And treated like a long-familiar | guest. He took her as he found, but found her so, As one in hourly readiness to go: E'en on that day, in all her trim prepared; As early notice she from heaven had heard; And some descending courier from above [move; Had given her timely warning to reOr counselled her to dress the nuptial room. For on that night the bridegroom was to come, He kept his hour, and found her where she lay Clothed all in white, the livery of the day; Scarce had she sinned in thought, or word, or act; Unless omissions were to pass for fact: That hardly death a consequence | Well may the baser brass contract a could draw, To make her liable to nature's law. And, that she died, we only have to show The mortal part of her she left below: The rest, so smooth, so suddenly she went, Looked like translation through the firmament. [From The Character of a Good Parson.] THE MODEL PREACHER, YET of his little he had some to spare, To feed the famished and to clothe the bare: For mortified he was to that degree, A poorer than himself he would not see. rust. [From Absalom and Achitophel.] A FIERY Soul, which, working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-informed the tenement of clay. A daring pilot in extremity; Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high He sought the storms; but, for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit. Great wits are sure to madness near allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide. |