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220 POEMS.
"With fudden adoration, and blank awe ?
So dear to Heav'n is faintly chaftity,
That when a foul is found fincerely fo,
A thoufand liveried angels lackey her,
Driving far off each thing of fin and guilt,
And in clear dream, and folemn virion,
Tell her of things that no grofs ear can hear,
Till oft converfe with heav'nly habitants
Begin to call a beam on th' outward fhape,
The unpolluted temple of the mind,
And turns it by degrees to the foul's effence,
Till all be made immortal : but when lull,
By unchafte looks, loofe geflures, and foul talk,
But mod by lewd and lavilh a6l of fin,
Lets in defilement to the inward parts,
The foul grows clotted by contagion,
Imbodies, and imbrutes, till fhe quite lofe
The divine property of her firfl being.
Such are thofe thick and gloomy fhadows damp
Oft feen in charnel vaults, and fcpulchres,
Ling'ring, and fitting by a new made grave,
As loath to leave the body that it lov'd,
And link'd itfelf by carnal fenfuality
To a degenerate and degraded Hate.
SECOND BROTHER.
How charming is divine philofophy!
Not harfh, and crabbed, as dull fools fuppofe,
But mufical as is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetual feaft of ne&ar'd fweets,
Where no crude furfeit reigns.