The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1803-02-03 00:00:00

LITRIUTUBE.

Est less praising co:non-ere. Hot.
Posms, Lyrical and Miscellaneous," by the late
Reverend FITNay Mooms, of Liskeard.

The history of the Author, ,whose works we thus
Afißounce, is short and affecting. With talents of a
superior order, he was doometittn pass a !nag life in
obscurity ; and, when accident was'on the point of
producing his merits to the world, death intercepted
his just hope of literary fame, and offered a " dull
cold car" to the plaudit which was soon to ensue.
Henry Moore, as his Editor and Biographer, 1)r.
Aikin informs us, was born at Plymouth, on the
30th of March 1732 ; was educated in the Academy
of Dr. Doddridgc at Northampton, was elected in
1755 or 1756 Minister to a dissenting congregation
at Dulverton in Somersetshire, and, after an inter-
mediate removal to Modbury in Devonshire, was
finally established in 1787 at Liskeard in Cornwall,
wheee he completed, on the 2d of November 1802,
his useful but silent course, unknown to all but to
a few obscure individuals, and to that Supreme
Being whose favour alone he solicitously sought,
and whose cause he seems always to have zealously
promoted. In the last Summer, confided to an
Intelligent relation a volume of MS. Poems, with a
request that they might he submitted to the judg-,
meat of some person qualified to ascertain their
merits, and to determine the question re•pecting
their fithess for publication. The MSS. were sent en
this occasion to Dr. Aikin, who was so sensible of
their value, that he not only gave his immediate
voice for their being printed, but also made an
offer of his assistance, unacquainted as he per-
sonally was with the Author, to prepare them for
the press. No subsequent delays occurred. From
a respect to the Author's age and broken health,
the business of publishing was conducted with all
the expedition of which at was susceptible : but,
alas! before it could be accomplished, the poet was
removed to that place which human praise cannot
reach, or in which it is lighter than " the dust of
the balance," or " than vanity itself."
We hang with much melancholy interest over the
life of this respectable man, and feel disposed to
drop a weak tear on the spot, where his ashes re-
pose : but we think, that the volume, now in our
hands, will plant it with a bay, to point it to the ob-
servation of future times, and to raise it above the
level of a vulgar grave !
The only difficulty which we find, in selecting
from these productions of the Muse a passage for
the information of our reader's judgment, or tte..,
gratifitatiin of his taste, is occasioned by the length
of the principal compositions in the collection, and
by our unwillingness to extract less than an entire
poern.The fowing Ode is chosen from its fel-
lows, solely with a view to the number of its lines,
and to the limits of our column.
ODE,
OCCASIONED RT THE ATHEISTICAL TENETS !VD.
LICELY AVOWED IN TRANCE.
" Is there a GOD ?" the Sceptic cries,
Profanely) daring, and absurdly wise.
Ask theliond thunder ! Ask the lightning's glare !
• When Terror riding on his fiery car.
F aching thro' the blue pmfound,
Shakes the vaulted heavens aroefid :
Or ask the troubled Deep,
When o'er the surge the dire tornados sweep,
BA the vext surface :ntu mountains ree,
And wild Confusion mingles waves, and skies;
While the poor Pilot, pale with dread,
Sees ghastly Death hang foaming o'er his head ;
Trembling she'll tell, what Awful Powe Fres:des
Tn sink, or swell to rage her hoarse-resounding tides.
Ask of the seies, who firmed tau it ,hieing frame'
Who tenet: the starry legions in array ?
Who thro' the void elaned the comet's flame,
And from its golden fountain poued the day
Who beads the rencave of the sev'n-fold bow'
Whn gi%t-.4 the fitirg mein its rcseat glow;
In tenfold darkness now involves the sphere;
While stalk terrific three the dreadful night
Ravetitig Death, aril pale Affright,
And ileac the sliiv'riug heart with frantic fear ?
Are proofs of Pnw'r too weak? Behold around
Bounty profuse, and Lose, that knows no hound !
Int thee, ungrateful Man his far rite care,
He sited a teoueand charms on Nature's face,
All sweetie bletideil—the sublime, the fair,
Order theme, and smut-enchanting grace.
Cl. th'rl the gay pastures with enliv'ning green,
.Arcli'd with einhow'rine shades the sylvan scene;
Sweled the high moautAin with maiestic pride,
elope! the deep vale, and down its winding siiie
Bid many a fresh rill flow, that murmeing strays
Most musical in maey a waving maz...
For thee his vernal Zephyrs play,
And in rich colours blooms the flow'ry May ;
For thee his handmaid Nature show'rs aretond
Her ample stores, and loads the glacklered ground;
For thee his Moons their silver beasts unfold,
And Suns with regal grandeur blaze in gold.
Yet Man, with reason Wind, perverse of will,
Caprice his guide, and lust his law,
Still prone to iiiderdieted
Nor Low call melt, nor Powr' ran awe.
Ileas'n's unnurnbeed leonine. while poseest
The goodness he blaspheme, that makes him blest :
Weak Reptile ! dares with impious pride
Oppose tle I hnniporente command,
Nor sutlers his uplifted hand
To lay the vengeful bolt aside.
Insatiate Famine, flame-ey'd Wee
Foul Disease's ghastly train,
And pining Grief, and agonizing Pahl,
Outrageous Frenzy. sullen-eyel Ikspair,
Whose hand detcrmin'd grasps the dart
To drive it to her heart,
Pele-cheek'd Anxiety, that knows no rest,
Anil fell Remorse with snaky tresses crown'd,
With all her thousand Fiends of horror round,
Teat pierce with guilty pangs the secret breast,
And that dread Voice, that dogs the godless crew,
Which silent long, at length with awful roll,
Like thunder pealing thm' the shuddeing Soul,
Compels it to believe, and tremble too,
AU at his footstool wait his dread command :
Grim-viiag'd Vengeance heads the grisly band
Arwed with her iron rod,
V.'ith alt the Names and diuruP,rs of her COP.
Her host of marshaled Ills she leads below, •
And deals veinal variety of woe.
Had Greatest ! Wisest ! Best !
While peal thy thunders, and thy liehtnings glow,
Let the bold tremble, and the haughty bow,
And thrilling terms chill the Tyiesit's breast !
But blest the pious, gentle, geterous Race,
ten whom, loopiest in many a lovely line,
The beaming. of thy beauty shine,
With full reflected grace !
Theirs n heart-chearing Hope of eye serene,
Mill as some smiling Angel's placid mien ;
Thews is strong-pinion'd Faith. that dares the sky ;
Their' Peace etberial ever calm, and even ;
l'heirs the rapt Seraph's soul-entrAneing joy ;
Theirs the fair dawnings of the day of Heaven.
To them thy flaming bolts no terrors hear,
While in their eread Almighty King they view
The tender Father ton,
Joy in thy love, and trust thy faithful tare.
Tow some bright Cherub stands before thy Attar,
Fearless bit Maker's awful form servile,
Securely solo his dreadful glories shine, •
And in hi/lightning's living flashes plays.

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