PSALM CXXXVI.
LET us, with a gladsome mind,
Praise the Lord, for he is kind;
For his mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
Let us blaze his name abroad,
For of gods he is the God;
For his, &c.
O, let us his praises tell,
Who doth the wrathful tyrants quell;
For his, &c.
Who, with his miracles, doth make
Amazed heaven and earth to shake;
For his, &c.
Who, by his wisdom, did create
The painted heavens so full of state;
For his, &c.
Who did the solid earth ordain
To rise above the watery plain;
For his, &c.
Who, by his all-commanding might,
Did fill the new-made world with light;
For his, &c.
And caused the golden-tressed sun
All the day long his course to run;
For his, &c.
The horned moon to shine by night,
Amongst her spangled sisters bright;
For his, &c.
He, with his thunder-clasping hand,
Smote the first-born of Egypt land;
For his, &c.
And, in despite of Pharaoh fell,
He brought from thence his Israel;
For his, &c.
The ruddy waves he cleft in twain
Of the Erythræan main;
The floods stood still, like walls of glass, While the Hebrew bands did pass;
But full soon they did devour
The tawny king with all his power;
His chosen people he did bless
In the wasteful wilderness;
In bloody battle he brought down
Kings of prowess and renown;
For his, &c.
He foil'd bold Seon and his host,
That ruled the Amorrean coast;
For his, &c.
And large-limb'd Og he did subdue,
With all his over-hardy crew;
For his, &c.
And, to his servant Israel,
He gave their land therein to dwell;
For his, &c.
All living creatures he doth feed,
And with full hand supplies their need;
For his, &c.
Let us therefore warble forth
His mighty majesty and worth;
For his, &c.
That his mansion hath on high
Above the reach of mortal eye;
For his mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
THREE Poets, in three distant ages born,
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn;
The first in loftiness of thought surpass'd;
The next, in majesty; in both, the last.
The force of nature could no farther go;
To make a third, she join'd the former two.
BUT Milton next, with high and haughty stalks, Unfetter'd, in majestic numbers, walks:
No vulgar hero can his Muse engage,
Nor earth's wide scene confine his hallow'd rage. See! see! he upward springs, and, towering high, Spurns the dull province of mortality;
Shakes Heaven's eternal throne with dire alarms,
And sets the Almighty Thunderer in arms!
Whate'er his pen describes I more than see;
Whilst every verse, array'd in majesty,
Bold and sublime, my whole attention draws,
And seems above the critic's nicer laws.
How are you struck with terror and delight,
When angel with archangel copes in fight!
When great Messiah's outspread banner shines,
How does the chariot rattle in his lines!
What sound of brazen wheels, with thunder, scare
And stun the reader with the din of war!
With fear my spirits and my blood retire,
To see the seraphs sunk in clouds of fire:
But when, with eager steps, from hence I rise,
And view the first gay scene of Paradise;
What tongue, what words of rapture, can express
A vision so profuse of pleasantness!
Creative fancy, and inspection keen
Through the deep windings of the human heart,
Is not wild Shakspeare thine and Nature's boast?
Is not each great, each amiable Muse
Of classic ages in thy MILTON met?
A genius universal as his theme;
Astonishing as Chaos; as the bloom
Of blowing Eden fair; as Heaven sublime!
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