Faults in the life breed errors in the brain; None sends his arrow to the mark in view, With caution taste the sweet Circean cup: He that sips often, at last drinks it up. Habits are soon assum'd; but when we strive To strip them off, 'tis being flay'd alive, Call'd to the temple of impure delight, He that abstains, and he alone, does right. If a wish wander that way, call it home; He cannot long be safe whose wishes roam. But, if you pass the threshold, you are caught; Die then, if power Almighty save you not. There, hardening by degrees, till double steel'd, Take leave of nature's God, and God reveal'd; Then laugh at all you trembled at before ; Be damnable, then damn'd without excuse. Some dream that they can silence when they will The storm of passion, and say, Peace, be still; But, "Thus far and no farther," when address'd To the wild wave, or wilder human breast, Implies authority that never can, That never ought to be the lot of man. But, muse, forbear; long flights forebode a fall; Strike on the deep-ton'd chord the sum of all. Hear the just law-the judgment of the skies! He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies; And he that will be cheated to the last, Delusions, strong as hell, shall bind him fast. But, if the wanderer his mistake discern, Judge his own ways, and sigh for a return, Bewilder'd once, must he bewail his loss Forever and forever? No-the cross! There, and there only, (though the deist rave, And atheist, if earth bear so base a slave ;) There, and there only, is the power to save. There no delusive hope invites despair; No mockery meets you, no deception, there. VOL. I. } The spells and charms, that blinded you before, All vanish there, and fascinate no more. I am no preacher, let this hint sufficeThe cross, once seen, is death to every vice: Else he that hung there suffer'd all his pain, Bled, groan'd, and agoniz'd, and died, in vain. TRUTH. Pensantur trutiná. -HOR. Lib. II. Epist. 1. MAN, on the dubious waves of error toss'd, Your wilful suicide on God's decree. Oh how unlike the complex works of man, No clustering ornaments to clog the pile ; Legible only by the light they give, Stand the soul-quickening words-BELIEVE AND LIVE! Too many, shock'd at what should charm them most, Despise the plain direction, and are lost. Heaven on such terms! (they cry with proud disdain) Incredible, impossible, and vain !— Rebel, because 'tis easy to obey; And scorn, for its own sake, the gracious way. Who judg'd the pharisee? What odious cause |