On buried friends to let fond memory dwell, And grateful truth their bright endowments tell!

Careless, if envy, with a spleenful sneer, Reviles that eulogy she bates to bear, Saying with freedom's ill-a.s.sum'd pretence, 'Tis noxious flattery, o'erwhelming sense.

Peace! scornful pride! nor with malignant aim Belie the voice of consecrated fame, Thy subtlest arts, the pious to debate.

End, with strict justice, in thy own disgrace.

How weak were friendship could she shake with dread Of thy detraction 'gainst her worthies dead!

No! such detraction makes her zeal more just To every claim of their yet speaking dust.

Save me, good heaven! and all whom I regard, (Or hasty muse, or irritable bard,) Save us, good heaven! in mild and temperate age, From wounded vanity's vindictive rage!

To genuine friendship pure delight is given, Next to the favor of approving heaven; And that delight is most sublimely felt.

When nature in vain tears, has ceased to melt: When sorrow, quell'd by purer love's controul, To sweet reflection yields the chasten'd soul, Contemplating, thro' clouds to sunshine turn'd, The sure beat.i.tude of those--she mourn'd: This sunshine yet to us the heavens a.s.sign In Porteus, still thy friend! in Cowper, mine!

When tender fancy, on affection's plume, Emerging from the shadows of the tomb Aspires to trace, in visionary flight, The just made perfect, thro' the realms of light!

How glows the soul, with more than earthly joy, In fondly imaging their blest employ!

How oft, dear Cowper! at the close of day, When contemplation sheds her mental ray, I seem, through optics of the mind to see Thy sainted spirit, from inc.u.mbrance free!

Marking how quick, in various hearts, arise Those seeds of virtue, that thy verse supplies!

What joy, not speakable by mortal tongue, What praises, to the harp of seraph sung, May glad thee, now repaid for all thy woes, While boundless vision to thy spirit shows How e'en thy earthly song, by heaven inspired.

Attain'd the glorious aim, thy heart desired: Destin'd to spread, uncrampt by time or s.p.a.ce, Progressive goodness thro' the human race!

Thou monitor! by youth and age revered!

By wisdom prized! to tenderness endear'd!

While men and angels bid thy fame extend, And nature owns thee her benignant friend; Could there be mortals so perversely blind, As coa.r.s.ely to revile thy tender mind, Basely applying, with malignant glee, The hateful t.i.tle Misanthrope, to thee!

Let just oblivion wrap in endless night Such baleful fruits of worth-defaming spight: Truth ne'er could Cowper's want of zeal reprove, As fervent as a saint in friendly love.

Hannah! to whose effulgent mind belong Continual plaudits from the sons of song, Be witness how, in his sequester'd bowers, Cowper acknowledging thy various powers, Ever on thee, thy verse, thy prose, bestow'd Applause, where cloudless admiration glow'd With warmth, that jealousy could ne'er perplex; He praised thee, as the glory of thy s.e.x, In verbal power, in intellectual grace, Never inferior to man's lordly race!

Congenial spirits, warm'd with kindly zeal, Each others merits ye were sure to feel For one, true virtue's favorite employ, Her happiest exercise! her highest joy.

One glorious motive sway'd each active mind Whether the bard, to rhymes no more confin'd, Rapidly sketch'd with glance intensely keen, His bird's-eye prospect of our human scene, Or the fair moralist, in polish'd prose, Describ'd the living manners as they rose.

One glorious motive clear in each we prize.

Bright as the vestal flame, which never dies.

The philanthropic wish, from heaven inspir'd, That keeps the toiling mind in toil untir'd; The wish, unstain'd by every selfish aim.

Free from the thirst of lucre and of fame; The wish most valued, when best understood, To make the pen an instrument of good, Recalling mortals lost in false delight, To find true favour in their Saviour's sight.

The Bard, enfranchised from his earthly fate, Now soars, from this probationary state To join the seraphs of sublimer tone, Whose harps are vocal round the Almighty throne: On earth his laurels no destruction fear From cold neglect, or envy's blighting leer.

Verse, in whose influence the good rejoice, Is sure to echo from the human voice, While praise, as faithful as the mystic dove, Flows from the lips, of grat.i.tude and love.

Cowper still lives, to truth's clear optics given, Endear'd to earth, and recompens'd by heaven!

And O dear lady! who like him, canst feel For erring mortals anxious friendly zeal, And deck, like him, thy monitory page With charms attractive both to youth and age, Whose pure instruction, with a skill refin'd, Suits both the lowly, and the lofty mind: Like Cowper, thou canst bear, with calm disdain, While pity saves thee from resentment's pain, The dark insidious enmity of those Who, self-ent.i.tled friends, and secret foes, If they applaud thy talents, still deride Thy warm devotion, as fanatic pride, Tho' such devotion, undebased by art, Proves its clear source in tenderness of heart; Sincerely Christian, it forgives the lie That dares its nature, and its truth deny.

When, rich in honours, as in length of days, And satisfied with just affection's praise, Thy spirit to a purer world ascends, To share the fellowship of sainted friends, May this sweet vision of the blest be thine, To trace how widely, with a guide divine.

Thy active mind, while resident below, In soften'd hearts taught piety to grow, Aiding benighted souls to view the day, And drive depravity's dark clouds away: What bliss, to welcome in those realms of light Young angels! owning thou hast helped their flight, And from the Saviour of the world to hear "Those, who befriended earth--to heaven are dear!"

Monitory Verses

_To a Young Lady, who indulged too gloomy ideas of our sublunary state._

Dear nymph of a feeling, and delicate mind!

Whose eye the rash tears of timidity blind, When fancy alarm'd takes a heart-chilling hue, And the prospect of life is all dark in thy view, Let me, as thy monitor, mild and sincere, To thy spirit the gift of existence endear!

And shew thee, if darkened by fear or chagrin, The sunshine of friendship can gild every scene!

Those, who true to the Ruler of every hour, Rely on his mercy, and trust in his power;

Whatso'er is their lot, may, by viewing it right, Convert all its darkness to visions of light When mortals of hope the fair presage a.s.sume, Even death's sable pall is no object of gloom: They smile on the path which their best friends have trod, And rejoice, when they feel, they are summon'd to G.o.d.

Be it long, my young friend, ere such joy can be thine, First embrace all the gifts, faith exults to resign.

The best prelude to death is, without mental strife.

To be grateful for all the pure pleasures of life: And many pure pleasures to mortals are given, Sick or well, rich or poor, by the bounty of heaven, If we all draw them forth (by well acting our part,) From that mine of delight, an affectionate heart!

Epistle

TO A FRIEND, ON THE DIVINITY OF OUR SAVIOUR.

_Inconcussa tenens dubio vestigia mundo._.

1815.

Epistle.

Dear Disputant! whose mind would boldly soar, And all theology's domain explore!

I love the candid fervency of soul, That scorns a dogmatist's austere controul; Let liberal scholars, as they surely ought, Claim, and allow, a lat.i.tude of thought!

As friends I honour, with a love benign, Many, whose creeds may vary far from mine: Secure from error I no mortal deem; But all, who truly seek for truth, esteem.

Yet with a mild regret, and kind concern I see temerity's ambition burn, When zeal, self-blinded in a mental mist, Denies, that hallow'd mysteries exist; And deems, that reason, which no fears appall, Has self-sufficiency to clear them all: Tis reas'ning pride, not reason, just, and sore.

Which in religion finds no point obscure; Which, measuring G.o.dhead with an earthly line, Would rob the Saviour of his rights divine.

There are, who call Him, by their dreams beguil'd, Mere man; of mortal geniture the child!

Tho' sanction'd, by his Sire's almighty breath, His Son! a sovereign o'er life, and death!

'Tis not for mortals, in their transient hour, To pierce the secrets of primordial power; Or guess, how G.o.d, on his eternal throne, To filial spirit could impart his own: But how can earth deny, by truth unblam'd, Divinity, that Heaven itself proclaim'd.

Reason opposes pride's degrading plan.

To sink the Saviour to a simple man: Were He no more, could He, so born, presume With Heaven to mediate for all nature's doom?

No! for, so born, Himself must then require A mediator with th' eternal Sire: Disclaim his G.o.dhead, you at once imply His deeds are doubtful, and his word a lie.

If not a G.o.d, most guilty of mankind, His doctrine tends the human race to blind.

Surpa.s.sing e'en the fiend, who caus'd our fall, By sharing worship with the Sire of all!

O ye! whose reas'ning pride can so mistake The truths, He meekly spoke for mercy's sake!

More humbly grateful, learn ye to rejoice In all the dictates of his cheering voice!

Who, to console his grief-dejected flock, Show'd, how their faith is built upon a rock; And, in the closing of his earthly strife, Made manifest Himself as Lord of Life!

And tho' to death, the most disgraceful, driven, Possessing all the powers of earth, and Heaven.

Pure source of light! and safety to the lost, Without Thee on a sea of darkness tost!

Sovereign of grace, and kindness so sublime, Thou view'st with pity their ungrateful crime, Who, while they load Thee with degrading praise, Would darken in thy crown its heavenly rays.

And O! how truly pitiable are those, By nature mild, nor truth's intended foes, Whose strange illusion yet miscalls Thee, man, Tho' chosen to fulfil redemption's plan!

Who of Thy G.o.dhead want that sacred sense, That cordial glow of grat.i.tude intense, Which forms the bliss of their enlighten'd zeal, Who all the merits of thy mercy feel!

Who hail Thee quitting thy bright throne above, Sublime example of celestial love!

To clear, for them, a debt, they could not pay, And change their darkness to eternal day!

How pa.s.sing sweet to pure devotion's soul, Are proofs of thy unlimited controul!

While the true Christian's mental eyes survey Thy heavenly origin, and healing sway.

Only begotten Son of Sire supreme, Whose quickening bounty was thy vital beam, Ere nature lived, when, with thy filial aid, The vast foundation of all worlds was laid!

When the paternal G.o.d was pleas'd to see A blight reflection of Himself in Thee!

The splendour of his glory! form'd to share His purest power, his providential care, And, in consummating his gracious will, At length annihilate all cureless ill!

To faith's pure eyes how ravishingly clear Signs of her Lord's Divinity appear!

While earth and Heaven invite her to behold How the fair series of those signs unfold!

A blest Redeemer, and without a trace Of man's corruption in his ruin'd race, Announc'd by mercy to our fallen sire, Soon made that contrite criminal respire: Age after age, of prophecy the breath.

Softening the horrors in the doom of death, While nature strove with sin's dark woes to cope, Shed thro' her lighten'd heart religious hope.

Thro' patriarchal times, in vision clear, Types of the great Deliverer appear: At length, when centuries have roll'd away.

And faith stands watching for her promis'd day, She sees her Saviour from a virgin sprung, His advent by attending angels song!

And wisdom usher'd by the guiding Star, Hails Him, with gifts of homage, from afar.

The voice of Heaven proclaims his promis'd birth, And conscious nature feels her friend on earth.

His uninstructed youth divinely sage, Transcends the knowledge of experienc'd age: The weak receive the strength, his will can give, The dead obedient to his mandate live, In power as mighty, as in mercy kind, He dies, the ransom of redeem'd mankind!