(seq. 18)

12

Where flow the swets of life, an Ocean full,

And boundless as the thot, or active soul;

A feast so much divine, so richly spread

Allur'd my soul to taste this living bread;

My studious hours like pleasing rivlets flowd,

That banish'd all the hurry of the croud,

Whose clam'rous burst & trackless speeches swell

The senseless laugh, or worse, the pondrous yell,

Which glad their souls till the explosion dies,

Then dies the laugh & shames the listning skies

Secure & calm, sedate & free I read,

The page substantial & the fate decreed,

With all the rational of Angels free,

Down to the grovling worm or meaner me;

Where all my passions glow & sweetly move,

Or thro the vast expance of Nature rove,

All in confusion, unconfusd to scab,

The all prolific spring, that governs man,

That moves the thot, expands the radiant mind,

And speaks the reason born of heav'nly kind,

Ally'd to Angels & akin to God

Who rules the world by his almighty nod,

With pleasing dreads the wondrous man may find,

A God within himself, hinself refind