ON THE ETERNITY OF THE SUPREME BEING. BY CHRISTOPHER SMART, M. A. HAIL, wond'rous Being, who in power supreme Exists from everlasting, whose great name Deep in the human heart, and every atom The Air, the Earth, or azure Main contains In undecypher'd characters is wrote — IN COMPREHENSIBLE! — O what can words, The weak interpreters of mortal thoughts, Or what can thoughts (tho' wild of wing they rove Thro' the vast concave of th' aetherial round) If to the Heaven of Heavens they'd wing their way Adventurous, like the birds of night they're lost, And delug'd in the flood of dazzling day. — May then the youthful, uninspired Bard Presume to hymn th' Eternal; may he soar Where Seraph, and where Cherubin on high Resound th' unceasing plaudits, and with them In the grand Chorus mix his feeble voice? He may — if Thou, who from the witless babe Ordainest honour, glory, strength, and praise, Uplift th' unpinion'd Muse, and deign'st t' assist, GREAT POET OF THE UNIVERSE, his song. Before this earthly Planet wound her course Round Light's perennial fountain, before Light Herself 'gan shine, and at th' inspiring word Shot to existence in a blaze of day, Before "the Morning-Stars together sang, And hail'd Thee Architect of countless worlds Thou art — all-glorious, all-beneficent, All Wisdom and Omnipotence thou art. But is the aera of Creation fix'd At when these worlds began? Could ought retard Goodness, that knows no bounds, from blessing ever, Or keep th' immense Artificer in sloth? Avaunt the dust-directed crawling thought, That Puissance immeasurably vast, And Bounty inconceivable, could rest Content, exhausted with one week of action — No — in th' exertion of thy rigteous power, Ten thousand times more active than the Sun, Thou reign'd, and with a mighty hand compos'd Systems innumerable, matchless all, All stampt with thine uncounterfeited seal. But yet (if still to more stupendous heights The Muse unblam'd her aching sense may strain) Perhaps wrapt up in contemplation deep, The best of Beings on the noble theme Might ruminate at leisure, Scope immense Th' eternal Power and Godhead to explore, And with itself th' omniscient mind replete. This were enough to fill the boundless All, This were a Sabbath worthy the Supreme! Perhaps enthron'd amidst a choicer few, Of Spirits inferior, he might greatly plan The two prime Pillars of the Universe, Creation and Redemption — and a while Pause — with the grand presentiments of glory. Perhaps — but all's conjecture here below, All ignorance, and self-plum'd vanity — O Thou, whose ways to wonder at's distrust, Whom to describe's presumption (all we can — And all we may —) be glorified, be prais'd. A Day shall come, when all this Earth shall perish, Nor leave behind ev'n Chaos; it shall come When all the armies of the elements Shall war against themselves, and mutual rage, To make Perdition triumph; it shall come, When the capacious atmosphere above Shall in sulphureous thunders groan, and die, And vanish into void; the earth beneath Shall sever to the center, and devour Th' enormous blaze of the destructive flames. Ye rocks, that mock the raving of the floods. And proudly frown upon th' impatient deep, Where is your grandeur now? Ye foaming waves, That all along th' immense Atlantic roar, In vain ye swell; will a few drops suffice To quench the inextinguishable fire? Ye mountains, on whose cloud-crown'd tops the cedars Are lessen'd into shrubs, magnific piles, That prop the painted chambers of the heavens, And fix the earth continual; Athos, where; Where, Tenerif's thy stateliness to-day? What, Aetna, are thy flames to these? — No more Than the poor glow-worm to the golden sun. Nor shall the verdant vallies then remain Safe in their meek submission; they the debt Of nature and of justice too must pay. Yet I must weep for you, ye rival fair, Arno and Andalusia; but for thee More largely and with filial tears must weep, O Albion, O my country! Thou must join, In vain dissever'd from the rest, must join The terrors of th' inevitable ruin. Nor thou, illustrious monarch of the day; Nor thou, fair queen of night; nor you, ye stars, Tho' million leagues and million still remote, Shall yet survive that day; Ye must submit, Sharers, not bright spectators of the scene. But tho' the earth shall to the center perish, Nor leave behind ev'n Chaos; tho' the air With all the elements must pass away, Vain as an ideot's dream; tho' the huge rocks, That brandish the tall cedars on their tops, With humbler vales must to perdition yield; Tho' the gilt Sun, and silver-tressed Moon With all her bright retinue, must be lost; Yet Thou, Great Father of the world, surviv'st Eternal, as thou wert: Yet still survives The soul of man immortal, perfect now, And candidate for unexpiring joys. He comes! He comes! the awful trump I hear; The flaming sword's intolerable blaze I see; He comes! th' Archangel from above. "Arise, ye tenants of the silent grave, " Awake incorruptible and arise: "From east to west, from the antarctic pole " To regions hyperborean, all ye sons, "Ye sons of Adam, and ye heirs of Heaven — " Arise, ye tenants of the silent grave, "Awake incorruptible and arise." 'Tis then, nor sooner, that the restless mind Shall find itself at home; and like the ark, Fix'd on the mountain-top, shall look aloft O'er the vague passage of precarious life; And, winds and waves and rocks and tempests past, Enjoy the everlasting calm of Heaven: 'Tis then, nor sooner, that the deathless soul Shall justly know its nature and its rise: 'Tis then the human tongue new-tun'd shall give Praises more worthy the eternal ear. Yet what we can, we ought; — and therefore, Thou, Purge Thou my heart, Omnipotent and Good! Purge Thou my heart with hyssop, lest like Cain I offer fruitless sacrifice, and with gifts Offend and not propitiate the Ador'd. Tho' Gratitude were blest with all the powers Her bursting heart could long for, tho' the swift, The fiery-wing'd Imagination soar'd Beyond Ambition's wish — yet all were vain To speak Him as he is, who is INEFFABLE. Yet still let reason thro' the eye of faith View Him with fearful love; let truth pronounce, And adoration on her bended knee With heaven-directed hands confess His reign. And let th' Angelic, Archangelic band With all the Hosts of Heaven, Cherubic forms, And forms Seraphic, with their silver trumps And golden lyres attend: — "For Thou art holy, " For Thou art One, th' Eternal, who alone "Exerts all goodness, and transcends all praise."