Of Glory not a Beam is left
But her Eternal House —
The Asterisk is for the Dead,
The Living, for the Stars —
-
-
Of God we ask one favor,
That we may be forgiven —
For what, he is presumed to know —
The Crime, from us, is hidden —
Immured the whole of Life
Within a magic Prison
We reprimand the Happiness
That too competes with Heaven. -
WHAT is good-nature? Gen'rous Richmond, tell;
He can declare it best, who best can feel.
Is it a foolish weakness in the breast,
As some who know, or have it not, contest?
Or is it rather not the mighty whole,
Full composition of a virtuous soul?
Is it not virtue's self? A flower so fine,...
* * *
Of H s birth this was the happy lot
His Mother on his Father him begotWilliam was once a bashful youth,
His modesty was such,
That one might say (to say the truth)
He rather had too much.
Some said that it was want of sense,
And others, want of spirit,
(So blest a thing is impudence,)
While others could not bear it.
...Of Life to own —
From Life to draw —
But never tough the reservoir —Of Nature I shall have enough
When I have entered these
Entitled to a Bumble bee's
Familiarities.Of Paul and Silas it is said
There were in Prison laid
But when they went to take them out
They were not there instead.
Security the same insures
To our assaulted Minds —
The staple must be optional
That an Immortal binds.Of so divine a Loss
We enter but the Gain,
Indemnity for Loneliness
That such a Bliss has been.Of their peculiar light
I keep one ray
To clarify the Sight
To seek them by —