Separation from GOD the most intolerable Punishment. (annext to a Sermon on Gen. iv. 13, 14. Jan. 13…

Fountain of Good! 'twas thy creating Breath Inspired the boundless Wish, th' immense Desire, That gasps for perfect Bliss. The panting Soul, That still unsatisfy'd, still restless, breaks Through Nature's Bonds, with dark implicit Aim Unconscious points to Thee, the unbounded Source Of all Perfection? So young Ravens cry, And gape to catch the Bounty from Thy Hand, By Instinct taught, unconscious what they ask, And whence the Blessing comes. So the parch'd Earth, When brazen Skies deny the timely Rain, With silent Importunity implores, Unknowing, the soft Show'r: her gaping Chinks Her with'ring Verdure, and dejected Flow'rs Mourning present the silent Pray'r to Thee.

These innate Wishes, that impatient break Through all the Limits of created Joys, Direct their Flight to Thee: th' Extravagance Of these immense Desires, proclaim aloud My Soul can ne'er be happy but in Thee. In Thee alone her Faculties find Room, In Thee alone expatiate unconfin'd. Through all the Affluence that Earth can yield, Through all the Canopy of Heav'n contains, Through all the Ranks of heav'nly Forms, she breaks In Quest of Thee. In Quest of Thee she roves In all th' Anxieties of Discontent, In all the distant Prospects Hope can shew, And all the wild Excursions of Desire. For Thee she heaves the Sigh; for Thee dilates The boundless Wish; Thee under some Disguise, Tho' oft deluded with fallacious Views, Restless pursues; and short of Thee despairs To find true Bliss, proportion'd to her Wish.

Let all the richest Blessings Nature yields Diffuse themselves around me, with Disdain My Soul would all th' insip'd Trifles spurn: Through all the gay Temptations still look out For some superior Bliss; look out to Thee, My only Happiness, with wishful Eyes, And find my Heav'n in Thy propitious Smiles.

O! may I hope, when the long Drudgery Of Life is past, to rise and soar to Thee? There all my boundless Cravings satisfy, And fill my vast Capacities of Bliss?

But gloomy Guilt obscures the glimm'ring Hope; Whispers a thousand Horrors, and forebodes Eternal Separation from Thy Face, In the waste Realms where Desolation frowns, Unconscious of Thy Smiles. Tremendous Thought! Oh! Horrors! Horrors!—An immortal Soul, With ever gnawing and immense Desires, Torn off from all the Pleasures Sense can yield, Without a GOD! Without a Drop of Bliss To quench her raging Thirst! Curs'd from the Earth, A restless Fugitive thro' the dark Voids Of boundless Space, and the thick Glooms of Hell! Haunted with horrid Furies! Rack'd and torn With guilty, dire Reflections! Not an Eye To pity! Pining, panting, gasping still For Bliss in vain, with hungry wild Desires!— I sink beneath the Prospect! Horrors chill The vital Stream, and palpipate around My agonizing Heart!—My Maker GOD! My Father! Saviour! every dearest Name! Oh! wilt Thou doom me to a long Exile From thy propitious Face, my only Bliss! See! LORD, a Supplicant before Thy Throne Importunate I bow; for Grace I cry! For Grace to fit my Spirit to enjoy Thee as my final Portion and my All.