Classic Poem

See Peter at His Feet, whose mighty Word
Had the wide Net with Fish portentous stor'd.
This wond'rous Piece, with Admiration view,
Did ever Face such just Confusion shew?
Did Passions e'er in such Perfection reign,
Where each for Conquest strives, but strives in vain?
Devout Disturbance, Gratitude and Love,
A prous Medley, equal Wonder move.
From trembling Joints his Spirits upwards rise,
And to express th' Apostle's vast Surprize,
See his whole eager Soul collected in his Eyes.
In Limbs and Face so much he seems alive,
That Lookers on might well this Judgment give,
That he has Voice, and ready is to speak,
But that Amazement do's his Utt'rance break.

Remark the holy Rapture in his Mien,
'Tis in each Vein, and every Muscle seen.
Were ever Hands, Compassion to implore,
So tenderly devout stretcht out before?
If any Force can Heav'n's rais'd Stroke arrest,
And from his Arm th' Almighty's Thunder wrest,
Or can invade the distant Seats of Bliss
With prosp'rous Violence, 'tis such as This.
All will pronounce, who here attentive dwell,
The Painter's Art, another Miracle.