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The dying Christian to his Sout.

O DE*

VITAL spark of heav'nly flame

1.
ITA

Quit, oh quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, dying,

Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.

D.

Hark! they whisper ; Angels say,
Sister Spirit, come away:
What is this absorbs me quite ?

Steals my senses, shuts my fight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death?

III. The

* This ode was written in imitation of the famous sonnet of Hadrian to his departing foul ; but as much fuperior in sense and sublimity to his original, as the Chriftian Religion is to the Pagan.

III.
The world recedes; it disappears !
Heav'n opens on my eyes ! my ears

With sounds seraphic ring:
Lend, lend your wings ! I mount! I Ay!
O Grave! where is thy Victory?

O Death! where is thy Sting?

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Α Ν

E S S A Y

Ο Ν

CRITICIS M.

Written in the Year MDCC IX.

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