TO Mr. Henry Bendish.

TO Mr. Henry Bendish.

The Indian Philosopher, OR Matches made Above, But Broke in coming down.

I.

WHY should our Joys transform to Pain? Why gentle Hymen's Silken Chain A Plague of Iron prove? BENDISH, 'tis strange the Charm that binds Millions of Hands should leave their Minds At such a loose from Love.

II.

In vain I sought the wondrous Cause, Rang'd the wide Fields of Natures Laws, And urg'd the Schools in vain; Then deep in Thought, within my Breast My Soul retir'd, and Slumber drest A bright Instructive Scene.

III.

O're the broad Lands and 'cross the Tide On Fancies Airy Horse I ride, (Sweet Rapture of the Mind) Till on the Banks of Ganges Flood In a tall Ancient Grove I stood For Sacred Use design'd.

IV.

Hard by a Venerable Priest Ris'n with his God the Sun from Rest Awoke his Morning-Song; Thrice he conjur'd the Murm'ring Stream; The Birth of Souls was all his Theme, And half Divine his Tongue.

V.

"He Sang th' Eternal rolling Flame, " That Vital Mass, that still the same "Does all our Minds compose; " But shap'd in twice ten thousand Frames, "Thence differing Souls of differing Names, " And Jarring Tempers rose.

VI.

"The mighty Power that form'd the Mind " One Mould for every Two design'd, "And bless'd the New-born Pair: " This be a Match for This, he said, "Then down he sent the Souls he made " To seek them Bodies here:

VII.

"But parting from their warm Abode " They lost their Fellows on the Road, "And never joyn'd their Hands: " Ah cruel Chance, and crossing Fates! "Our Eastern Souls have dropt their Mates " On Europes Barbarous Lands.

VIII.

"Happy the Youth that finds the Bride " Whose Birth is to his own ally'd, "The Sweetest Joy of Life: " But Oh the Crowds of Wretched Souls "Fetter'd to Minds of different Moulds, " And chain'd t' Eternal Strife!

IX.

Thus Sang the wondrous Indian Bard, My Soul with vast Attention heard, While Ganges ceas'd to flow: "Sure then, I cry'd, might I but see " That gentle Nymph that twinn'd with me, "I may be Happy too.

X.

"Some Courteous Angel tell me where, " What distant Lands this unknown Fair "Or distant Seas detain? " Swift as the Wheel of Nature rolls "I'de fly to meet and mingle Souls, " And wear the Joyful Chain.