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Graſhopper
Thy Scally Body, and Aſpiring Wings,
Thy furious Tallons, and thy frightful Stings,
Makes thee ſeem Monſtrous to our milder Flock,
Who Dreaded once, but now Diſdains thy Yoke:
You’d bind our Souls, b’ Omnipotence made free,
And Rob us of that Heav’n-born Libertie,
To which we have a Right, as clear as thee.
My Sons thou wou’dſt unreaſonably confine
To Worſhip God, within no Walls but thine,
As if the Prayers, from other Temples ſent,
Of ſighing Souls, who fathfully Repent,
Were Scorned, and by repulſion backward driven,
Vaniſh’d in Air, and reached no Ear of Heaven.
Where is its Goodneſs? What avils its Grace,
If our ſincere Repentance wants acceſs,
Thro’ Heav’ns reſpect to either Time, or Place?
Thoſe meaſures but our own Projections be,
Unminded of the Great Eternitie,
Whoſe Love Divine moves round the Sinfull Bull,
To bleſs each wretch, who on his Mercies call,
Without regard to Place, no matter where,
If the Heart’s Contrit, and the Mind Sincere.
Our Humble Guide the great Example yields,
Who Pray’d and Preach’d in Gardens, Mounts, and Fields:
Temples but Sacred from their uſe became;
Our Piety makes any Houſe the ſame:
