Swims in his eyes: his swimming eyes uprais'd: And Faith's whole armour girds his limbs! And thus Transfigur'd, with a meek and dreadless awe, A solemn hush of spirit _he beholds_
Yea, and there, Unshudder'd unaghasted, he shall view E'en the SEVEN SPIRITS, who in the latter day Will shower hot pestilence on the sons of men, For he shall know, his heart shall understand, That kindling with intenser Deity They from the MERCY-SEAT like rosy flames, From God's celestial MERCY-SEAT will flash, And at the wells of renovating LOVE Fill their Seven Vials _with salutary wrath_.
For even these on wings of healing come, Yea, kindling with intenser Deity From the Celestial MERCY SEAT they speed, _And at the renovating_ &c.
Darkling with earnest eyes he traces out Th' immediate road, all else of fairest kind
[115] The Cherubs and the trembling Seraphim 1803.
O Fiends of SUPERSTITION! not that oft Your pitiless rites have floated with man's blood The skull-pil'd Temple, not for this shall wrath Thunder against you from the Holy One! But (whether ye th' unclimbing Bigot mock With secondary Gods, or if more pleas'd Ye petrify th' imbrothell'd Atheist's heart, The Atheist your worst slave) I o'er some plain Peopled with Death, and to the silent Sun Steaming with tyrant-murder'd multitudes; Or where mid groans and shrieks loud-laughing TRADE More hideous packs his bales of living anguish
[177] imbreathe] inbreathe 1797, 1803, 1828, 1829.
The wafted perfumes, gazing on the woods The many tinted streams
[266] Blessed] O _Blest_ 1796, Watchman: evil 1803: _Blessed_ 1797, 1828, 1829.
Ye whom Oppression's ruffian gluttony Drives from the feast of life
Dost roam for prey--yea thy unnatural hand Liftest to deeds of blood
Nights of pollution, days of blasphemy, Who in thy orgies with loath'd wassailers
[290] O loathly-visag'd Suppliants! ye that oft 1796: O loathly-visag'd supplicants! that oft Watchman.
Rack'd with disease, from the unopen'd gate Of the full Lazar-house, heart-broken crawl!
O ye to scepter'd Glory's gore-drench'd field Forc'd or ensnar'd, who swept by Slaughter's scythe Stern nurse of Vultures! steam in putrid heaps
O ye that steaming to the silent Noon, People with Death red-eyed Ambition's plains! O Wretched _Widow_