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ON POETRY.
Of rebel angels cast from heaven's high state,—
Of bliss, to the utmost verge of hell's most dreadful fate,—
Of man's creation, happiness, and fall,
Through Satan, the dire enemy of all,
Yet most himself since when he vainly thought
To ruin what the Godhead latest wrought;—
His vile design against Heaven's favorite, man,
Was overruled by that amazing plan
Which ages after was fulfilled on earth
In the glad tidings of the Saviour's birth!
And, while transcendent mercy was extolled,
The guilt on Satan's head was recompensed tenfold;—
Or, with immortal Young, in night's still silent reign,
By reason's steady light pursue a train
Of solemn thought, which nature's sleep inspires,
And, gazing upwards at those glorious fires,
In azure hung by Him whose single might
At first divided darkness from the light,
Of bliss, to the utmost verge of hell's most dreadful fate,—
Of man's creation, happiness, and fall,
Through Satan, the dire enemy of all,
Yet most himself since when he vainly thought
To ruin what the Godhead latest wrought;—
His vile design against Heaven's favorite, man,
Was overruled by that amazing plan
Which ages after was fulfilled on earth
In the glad tidings of the Saviour's birth!
And, while transcendent mercy was extolled,
The guilt on Satan's head was recompensed tenfold;—
Or, with immortal Young, in night's still silent reign,
By reason's steady light pursue a train
Of solemn thought, which nature's sleep inspires,
And, gazing upwards at those glorious fires,
In azure hung by Him whose single might
At first divided darkness from the light,
