Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FRAGMENTS OF A POEM ON THE EXCELLENCE OF CHRISTIANITY, by JAMES HAY BEATTIE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

FRAGMENTS OF A POEM ON THE EXCELLENCE OF CHRISTIANITY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: O thou, whate'er thy nature, cause, or name
Last Line: And framed to human duty human will.
Subject(s): Christianity


O THOU, whate'er thy nature, cause, or name,
Pure emanation of celestial flame!
From Shakespear's magick page whose glories roll,
To melt, alarm, o'erwhelm, th' enraptur'd soul;
Illumine Pope's keen verse, and moral lay;
Beam in full radiance on the lyre of Gray;
And with th' omnipotence of lightning driven,
Make Milton blaze in all the pomp of heaven!
If still, bright offspring of ethereal birth,
Thou lingering deign to cheer the gloom of earth,
Inspire thy feeble votary's design,
Exalt the thought, invigorate the line,
And bid in harmony the numbers flow,
To check gay Pride, and comfort anxious Wo!
From Folly's lure the wanderer to entice,
Who heedless roams the wildering maze of vice;
And guide his footsteps to that silent cell,
Where Love, Tranquillity, and Virtue dwell;
Whence Contemplation, listening, hears afar
Ambition, Interest, Pleasure, Passion jar;
And sees in doubt, in fear, in danger, hurl'd
The dim confusions of a distant world.
Vain crowd, whom Fashion's meteor forms decoy
And plunge in sorrow while ye grope for joy;
Who tear from present thought the troubled mind,
Scared by the past, and to the future blind,
Still in one round of dull amusement stray,
And trifle all your empty lives away!
Say, if for once to think ye greatly dare,
What prospects feed your hope, and rouse your care;
What goads you on to hurry, at the call
Of courtly Pride; gasp in the stifling ball;
On couch of down to languish for repose,
Or rush into the field where tumult glows;
Or eye, with grinning scorn, expensive state,
Through the snug opening of an iron grate,
And peace, health, freedom, happiness resign,
To watch a dirty bag of useless coin.
King, peasant, statesman, soldier, rich and poor.
The old, the young, the courtier and the boor,
All of whatever garb, whatever name,
Or power, or pleasure seek, or wealth, or fame.
And rightly seek; for so, by heaven inclined,
These rule, and ought to rule, the human mind,
Hopes, that rouse virtue, or from sloth protect,
The muse would not extinguish, but direct.
Man's final mansion is not here below;
His glory springs from goodness, not from show.
Wish ye for power, wealth, pleasure, fame? 'Tis well
That in your breast the seeds of virtue dwell.
But not on earth can fruit from these be given;
These seeds must ripen in the climes of heaven.
He who bids nature flourish or decay,
In mercy gives, in mercy takes away.
And by the structure shows of human frame
Man's native excellency, end, and aim.
Man cannot soar on eagle wing, or dare
The shaggy grasp of the relentless bear;
But man the eagle's tow'ring flight restrains,
And binds the rough bear's stubborn strength in chains;
And views and measures with adventurous eye
New orbs that glitter in th' unbounded sky.
Though tempest bellowing the swoln surge deform,
Man rides the swoln surge, and defies the storm;
Sees freedom, science, commerce, arts increase,
And bids a jarring world unite in peace.
Is then the being, who such rule attains,
Nought, but a bunch of fibres, bones and veins?
Is all that acts, contrives, obeys, commands,
Nought but the fingers of two feeble hands;
Hands that, a few uncertain summers o'er,
Moulder in kindred dust and move no more?
No. Powers sublimer far that frame inspire,
And warm with energy of nobler fire,
And teach mankind to pant for loftier joys,
Where death invades not, nor disease annoys;
But transports pure, immortal, unconfined,
Fill all the vast capacity of mind.
Would you then wallow in the sensual sty,
With shose who live to eat, and drink, and die;
Through life's short hour with blind incaution run,
Snatch present good, and present evil shun?
Would you be such as these? Then haste, away,
And revel all the night and all the day;
The future time o'erlook, forget the past;
Forget that such amusement cannot last;
Forget that, thus engross'd by splendid sin,
You blot the image of your God within;
Live hated, scorn'd, in sickness, and in fear,
To die without a friend, without a tear.
For this, were reason, power, invention, given
To man, the heir of glory, and of heaven!—
His hope and joy in conscious virtue dwell,
Acting, and knowing he has acted, well;
Not sure, to drink, to slumber, and to feed,
Wherein brutes equal him, and far exceed.
Dare to assert your rights, celestial race!
Honour awaits you, do not court disgrace;
Resemble, what will raise you, not deprave,
Your Sovereign GOD, and not the beast your slave.
Would you be happy?—Strengthen, and controul,
And regulate, that spring of bliss, the soul.
"All the dread splendour of high heaven, and all
"The varied wonders that adorn this ball,
"Show, in each atom, virtues that transcend
"Whate'er man's wit can speak or comprehend.
"Then surely He, who nature's monarch reigns,
"Who forms, who fills, enlivens, and sustains,
"Whose boundless works, thus darkly understood,
"Such love display, is wise, as well as good.
"Yet Vice in pleasure riots oft and fame,
"While meek neglected Virtue sinks in shame.
"Is not, to punish that, and this to save,
"A doom, a recompence beyond the grave?
"Yes: in that retribution we would trust,
"Convinced, though man is weak, that God is just.
"Shall we then wish it? When this scene is o'er,
"When vice allures, and passions fire no more,
"Shall we, so long in heedless error gay,
"So rich in blessings we can ne'er repay,
"Alike deprived of flight and of defence,
"Rise, and to judge us dare Omnipotence?
"In God we live and move; to him is known
"Our guilt; conceal we cannot, nor atone.
"Our being sins endanger, joys endear,
"We fear to keep it, and to lose it fear."
Deep in the clouds of general doubt enroll'd,
So spake, with anxious dread, the wise of old;
Who, in rude reason's narrow sphere confined,
Just oped their eyes, and knew that they were blind.
Meanwhile, amid the twilight of the times,
Unconscious Error stalk'd and licensed Crimes.
From earth's deep bosom dug the dirty ore
They melt, they mould, they hammer, they adore.
Curls in high flame a consecrated pyre,
And human victims glut th' accursed fire.
The groping seer, by holy madness driven,
From quivering entrails rakes the will of heaven.
The owl's long loud moan, screaming from afar,
Gladdens with peace, or animates to war;
While chiefs uncage, in superstitious awe,
A fluttering chick, whose appetite is law.
Dark horror shades man's torpid race: they see
Nor God, nor virtue, nor futurity;
Save when, by forms in turbid fancy bred,
Pale Ignorance is wakened into dread;
And shapes of present crime, and future doom,
Glare momentary through th' involving gloom.
But lo, what genial tides of heavenly beam,
Pour'd slowly, midst the rolling darkness stream!
Lo, where the radiant cross, displayed on high,
Inflames the languor of yon eastern sky:
Through air, earth, ocean, spreads th' expanding ray.
And wraps the nations in a blaze of day.
Hark! a voice—" Hear, my favour'd people, hear,
"Repent; for heaven's eternal reign is near.
"Come, ye whom long laborious care employs,
"Whom doubts alarm, whom servitude annoys,
"Come, bear my burden, to my yoke agree,
"Ye weak, ye heavy laden, come to me,
"My yoke is easy and my burden light;
"Hope chears my servant, endless joys requite.
"Comfort I bring and mercy unconfined,
"And peace on earth, and good will to mankind.
"My law no more in thunder I proclaim,
"Throned in thick darkness, and tempestuous flame:
"Rich offerings no longer I require,
"Or glittering altars crown'd with costly fire:
"I ask, and what I ask my words impart,
"Repentance, faith and purity of heart.
"Come then, my people, listen and believe:
"Seek, ye will find me; ask, ye shall receive:
"Come, for the joys of heaven on earth I send,
"Come to your Lord, your Saviour, and your Friend."
Son of Omnipotence? Creation's heir!
Lord, what is man, that he employs thy care?
Dost thou for him this little planet tread,
For him in human weakness veil thy head,
And deign for him to quit the empyreal sky,
For him to weep, to suffer, and to die!
Trembling in gratitude, before the throne
Prostrate, we claim thy merit as our own.
With humble hearts, but warm in holy trust,
Low bending let us kiss our kindred dust;
Smile in calm hope, with fearful joy adore,
Renounce all former guilt, and sin no more;
At least be grateful where we cannot pay,
Nor make his gifts the means to disobey,
Him, life and breath who gives us, shall the while,
That life dishonour, and that breath revile!
Ah! can faint words in feeble song express'd,
Disclose the burning raptures of the breast,
When sooth'd repentance melts into delight,
And all heaven opens on the vanquish'd sight;
And the soul free from fear, from sorrow free,
Sinks overpower'd in speechless ecstacy!
We sons of dust, admitted to descry
Th' eternal counsels of th' unfolding sky,
To cast around th' expansive view sublime
Wide over, and beyond, the bounds of time;
We mark Heaven's reign begun, explore its laws,
Trace their dependance, and perceive their cause,
See them from mercy rise, to blessing tend,
And, by Omniscience sway'd, in full perfection end.
Come now, proud Sage, thine antient art compare;
Where is the wisdom now, the virtue where,
The knowledge where, by boasted reason given,
Of earth, and of th' economy of heaven?
Like stars, o'ertaken by the morning ray,
They hide their lessen'd heads and melt away.
But how to thee could Heaven's high will be known,
Who saw'st this coil of life, and this alone?
This life, where oft, to rouse or to employ
Man's virtue, discords rage and cares annoy,
And where misfortune wounds, and passions move,
Not to reward or punish, but to prove.
Think not, of yore, that virtue's secret way
Escaped th' unletter'd only, and the gay;
Or that the grave, the studious, and the learn'd
By instinct knew it, or by art discern'd.
No: these of nature their opinions drew
From what they fancied, not from what they knew;
And hardly, arguing still for arguing's sake,
Could end in truth, beginning in mistake.
They who, with sober sense, and honest heart,
View'd truth unmangled with the tools of art,
Than he far better knew, who could but see
Through the wild mist of whirling theory:
A medium, which, as differently applied,
Will darken, lessen, magnify, or hide.
And, still obsequious to the sage's creed,
Hide that most, from which most it disagreed,

What chance can blast our hope, what force control,
While fix'd on heaven, and center'd in the soul!
Lo, where plague rages round, and tempests roar,
The world's meek Patriot speeds from shore to shore.
Crash the hoar dungeon's echoing bars; appear
The long dark realms of sickness and of fear;
Down furrow'd cheeks, lank, wobegone, and wan,
Roll tears of blessing on the friend of man;
Hangs on the cold pale lip the lingering breath.
Blushes new vigour on the cheek of Death;
Joy murmurs through th' applauding crowd, and free
Light smiles again, and peace, and liberty.
Mortals, in heedless folly vain, bestow
The praise of virtue on the pride of show.
But there is ONE, whose steady eye regards
The good, whose certain meed the good rewards.
HE, when in thunder speaks the trump of doom,
Will not forget his Howard in the tomb.
"Come good and faithful servant, whose relief
"Gave comfort to Despair, and joy to Grief.
"Didst thou soothe trouble, and alleviate need,
"Didst thou the naked clothe, the hungry feed,
"Visit the sick, and set the prisoner free?
"Know, what thou didst to mine thou didst to me.
"Come then, thou blessed of my Father, come,
"And share his joy in thine eternal home."
Go now, gay fool, whom earth from heaven decoys,
On trivial gains intent, and trivial joys;
Who reason, honour, virtue, throw' st aside,
For unsubstantial pomp, and cringing pride;
Who fly'st to fear from hope, from ease to care,
To wo from joy, from triumph to despair.—
Go: slink a sot, a ruffian, and a coward,
Go: ape duke Villers, and despise John Howard.
But nobler transports may his mind attain,
Whose youthful ardour breaths this humble strain;
This humble strain which, undisguised by art,
Utters no thought that flows not from the heart.
O could his weak, though well-meant, effort throw
One ray of chearfulness on human wo;
Confute one base, one generous maxim prove,
Repress one folly, or one vice remove,
Proud of promoting peace, and easing pain,
Then would he think he had not lived in vain.
Wealth, interest, fashion, power, let others crave,
The sword of conquest wield, or ride the wave;
In other hands be empire's standard born,
The gem, the laurel, other brows adorn.
Enough for me, in unambitious lays
That I attempt to sing my Maker's praise;
And summon those, whom earth's vain tumults please,
From turbulence and care, to rest and ease:
Nor bid them quench their wishes but control,
And raise from earth to heaven, from flesh to soul.
For all who thus improve, and thus aspire,
Best cherish hope, and satisfy desire:
Since He, who must perceive, and will requite,
Whose frown is misery, whose smile delight,
Has join'd with virtue good, and vice with ill,
And framed to human duty human will.





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