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That affections may
my

like

you dispice

All perishable goods: erect my eyes,
With undiverted fixure on those joys,

Which neither time nor accident destroys.
Obtain for me of that celestiall spirit,

Who gives us grace that he may give us merit,
And then rewards his gifts: my hart may prove
Like thine, a perfect holocaust of love.
Thy constant bright example had imprest
Virtue as deep as love within my brest;
Make good these blessings, purify my faults,
Transfuse me wholly to your will and thoughts:
Infuse those virtues which did thee improve,
O! make me such a martir too in love.
Such frend-like confidence as you exprest
In the Almighty, when the most distrest;
When all your life continally was rackt
By pain and sicknes, yet you could abstract
Your mind from sufferings, when you still did choose
In others comforts, all your owne to loose.
Such humble thoughts, blest spirit! such active zeal,

Let me like her, still practice, still conceal ;

Such a preferring of anothers will,

Such self denyall and contempt instill;

Such a divesture of propriety,*

Such a communion with the Deity.

* Propriety is here used in the sense of property, as in Pa

radise Lost:

Hail wedded love! mysterious law, true source

Of human offspring, sole propriety

In paradise, of all things common else.

But soft-how bold is love warmed with desire,
That can without desert such hopes inspire,
To share those blessings, which in that dear saint,
A thirty years affliction did transplant.

You might see vertue living in her face,

Her very nature seem'd transform'd by grace:
She suited Paradice before the fall,

Best

сору

of the lost originall.

So sweet a peace inhabited her mind,

That those two parts, which we in conflict find
Divide us alwaies, were in her agreed,
So lost was Adam, so did Christ exceed.
Every thought, word, and action, did impart
This absolute possession of her hart.
Avast-thou vanquish'd minister of night-
Hope not to rule where she had so much right;
And thou, forsaken world! dispaire t'entice,
Now thou hast lost thy only Paradice,

By which thou heldst me in thy pleasing arms-
With her my life-and thou hast lost thy charms?
Hope not to ruin whom she meant to save—
The fix'd remembrance of her life and grave,
Will poure around me a celestiall balme
Of resignation, and now hopeless calme:
Thus arm'd with sad, yet truly humble mind,
I'le undergoe what heavin and you assignd.
You signd the order at your death, I must
Live to preserve the relicks of your dust.
Blest I obey-as they are part of thee,
They may exact this loathed slavery,

Which tys me from thee-for thee !-this alone
Inspires and justifies my resignation.

Lost in the glorys of your life, and blind

To your instructions, in your death I find
Your charity was like you, all devine-

You clos'd your eyes, cause you would open mine.
Continue this affection still the same,

Bequeath to me this never dying flame.
That, as on earth, you did alone dispence
All joys I had, and every hope from thence;
So may I glory by your means obtain,
And you a blest expansion in my gaine.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME..

EDINBURGH:

Printed by James Ballantyne & Co.

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