attain to some degree of negative goodness. Arrived at the state of humanity, MAN becomes accountable for his actions. Attaching himself to evil, he falls, in death, into such an animal state of existence as corresponds with the turpitude of his soul, which may be so great as to cast him down into the lowest point of existence, whence he shall again return through such a succession of animal existences as are most proper to divest him of his evil propensities. After traversing such a course, he will again rise to the state of humanity; whence, according to contingencies, he may rise or fall. Yet, should he fall, he shall again rise; and should this happen for millions of ages, the path to happiness is still open to him, and will so remain to all eternity; for, sooner or later, he will infallibly arrive at his destined station of happiness, from which, when attained, he will never fall. The ultimate states of happiness are eternally undergoing the most delightful renovations, in endless succession. These renovations will not, like the deaths of the lower states of existence, occasion a suspension of memory, and consciousness of self identity.” I. I saw yon orb, yon source of light, The Muse then own'd me with a smile, Bade Heaven's eternal dome resound: A grov'ling worm, or, in the deep, Or wing the skies, or through the desert yell; II. How fair was Nature's early morn! How sweetly bloom'd her vernal day! I then, on Fancy's pinion borne, Traced laughing Pleasure's devious way: Lured by thy glare, insidious Pride, Call'd, unobey'd, in lays of love; Power's hell-born wish had now my soul possess'd: I brandish'd high the tyrant's rod, Gave War's fierce hand my whetted steel, What millions bled beneath my trampling heel! Drench'd was each thought in hell, that fill'd my venom'd breast. III. How felt this world my slaughtering hand! A Tiger on the Libyan shore! I felt the scourge of wrath profound, I fuell'd high the flames of hell; And, on a Rebel's throne, scoff'd at the Almighty's will. IV. Yet, pitied still by Love DIvine, Thro' slow gradations up I came, Endued with passions more benign, I cropp'd the meads a Lambkin tame; Who can thy depth, Eternal Mercy! scan? I soar'd a Lark, and hymn'd the morn; His brutal shaft soon brought me to the ground; V. Where still the bardic song remains, I walk'd the thorny roads of life; Pierced, sorely pierced, my slander'd heart! She struck me with her poison'd spear; I dauntless bore their onset rude, I life resign'd, a willing victim died; Eternal Justice claim'd, and I could give no more. VI. Revived in yon supernal clime, The joys of triumph tuned my song; What breathed the soul of Liberty, Warm virtue's ardors and seraphic peace, Songs of celestial realms! their glories never cease. THE DRUID'S GROVE. From Lucan's Pharsalia, translated by Rowe. Nor far away, for ages past had stood Whose gloomy boughs, thick interwoven, made There, nor the rustic gods, nor satyrs sport, There, nor the feather'd songster builds his nest, But shiv'ring horror in the branches heaves, With sparkling flames the trees unburning shine, The pious worshippers approach not near, THE DRUIDIC TEMPLE. From Mason's Caractacus. Here, Romans, pause, and let the eye of wonder Gaze on the solemn scene; behold yon oak, How stern he frowns, and with his broad brown arms Himself appear'd, and with terrific tread Surely there is a hidden power, that reigns ELIDURUS. Daring Roman, Know that thou stand'st on consecrated ground: |