! a rebel universe!
My species up in arms! not one exempt!
Yet for the foulest of the foul, he dies,
Most joy'd, for the redeem'd from deepest guilt!
As if our race were held of highest rank;
And Godhead dearer, as more kind to man!" 332
Bound, every heart! and every bosom, burn!
O what a scale of miracles is here!
Its lowest round, high planted on the skies;
Its towering summit lost beyond the thought
Of man or angel! O that I could climb
The wonderful ascent, with equal praise!
Praise! flow for ever (if astonishment
Will give thee leave) my praise! for ever flow; 340
Praise ardent, cordial, constant, to high Heaven
More fragrant, than Arabia sacrificed,
And all her spicy mountains in a flame.
So dear, so due to Heaven, shall praise descend,
With her soft plume (from plausive angel's wing
First pluck'd by man) to tickle mortal ears,
Thus diving in the pockets of the great?
Is praise the perquisite of every paw,
Though black as hell, that grapples well for gold?
O love of gold! thou meanest of amours! 350
Shall praise her odours waste on Virtue's dead,
Embalm the base, perfume the stench of guilt,
Earn dirty bread by washing AEthiops fair,
Removing filth, or sinking it from sight,
A scavenger in scenes, where vacant posts,
Like gibbets yet untenanted, expect
Their future ornaments? From courts and thrones,
Return, apostate praise! thou vagabond!
Thou prostitute! to thy first love return, 395
Thy first, thy greatest, once unrivall'd theme.
There flow redundant; like Meander flow,
Back to thy fountain; to that parent Power,
Who gives the tongue to sound, the thought to soar,
The soul to be. Men homage pay to men,
Thoughtless beneath whose dreadful eye they bow
In mutual awe profound, of clay to clay,
Of guilt to guilt; and turn their back on thee,
Great Sire! whom thrones celestial ceaseless sing;
To prostrate angels, an amazing scene!
O the presumption of man's awe for man!-- 370
Man's author! end! restorer! law! and judge!
Thine, all; day thine, and thine this gloom of night,
With all her wealth, with all her radiant worlds:
What, night eternal, but a frown from thee?
What, heaven's meridian glory, but thy smile?
And shall not praise be thine? not human praise?
While heaven's high host