Forgive, blest Saint, an uninvited Muse!
Grant her your Pray'rs, and her bold Zeal excuse;
Nor blame our Wishes, tho' alas they be
Meer injuries to thee!
You long to be dissolv'd, and reign above
Free, in your Native Sphere;
But we, so selfish is our Love,
Beg your Continuance here:
And earnestly desire you should delay
Your Flight to Heav'n; till we have learn't the Way.
Wond'rous good Man! how pious is your Care!
How sweetly you th' Almighty's Love declare!
And for those Joys, our earthly Minds prepare.
Your bright Ideas make appear,
'Tis God alone we ought to know;
That no true Happiness is here,
But what from him does flow.
Ah still, your charitable Ends pursue!
Divine; Philosopher; and Poet too;
What can't such Union do?
But hold! Presumptuous Muse retire,
Blushing rejoice, and silently admire:
See; how the ravish'd Angels crouding come,
Then mortal Praise be dumb!