Classic Poem

How sweet the Contemplation, of that High
Tremendous Ruler of Eternity!
To think, how Great! how Good! how Wife that God !
Who puts whole Worlds in Motion, at His Nod.
Made that bright, glitt'ring Planet, call'd the Sun,
Which doth its daily Course, to light us, run;
Transparent Skies, whose Curtain-clouds deny
A boundless Prospect to the aching Eye,
And screen that Glory, from our mortal View,
As if to say, the Sight's too grand for you.

Alas! I know, the Rays that dart around,
That burnish'd Orb, doth ev'ry Sense confound;
At first the daring Sight, Distinction loseth,
And the refulgent Beams, your Thoughts confuseth.
A Megrim seizeth on the heated Brain,
And tortur'd Nature, fluttereth with Pain.
The unstrung Nerves, their wonted Vigour miss,
The Stomach sickens, and the Blood doth hiss.
But for a Moment longer, you're no more,
The kindred Planet, will the Soul explore;
Look on the Earth,—the Agitation's o'er.
Th' attractive Qualities in either found,
Keep us thus, on the Surface of the Ground;
Most fixt to that, that's most in our Compound.

How vain is it, to wish for length of Days,
To be excluded from Delights like these,
Which our indulgent Father, that's above,
Decrees for those he condescends to love.
In these enraptur'd Thoughts, my Soul takes Flight,
And boldly mixes with the Sons of Light.
My fir'd Imagination soars on high.
And giveth Heaven, to my Fancy's Eye.

O! what Delight, what endless Joys await
The pardon'd Sinner; happy, glorious State,
Hark! how the Halelujah's echoing ring
In Praise of Heaven's great, immortal King!
The downy pinion'd Angels wast the Sound,
And Holy, Holy Lord, 's the Chorus round.

What! in a Moment have I lost the Sight?
Doom'd, yet to wander in this Vale of Night;
Imprison'd, in this ailing earthly Form,
To weather out Affliction's blasting Storm:
To stem the Tide of Sorrow passing by,
And wait my Summons, to Eternity.