I. Enoch's Piety and Translation

ETERNAL GOD, our wond'ring Souls
Admire thy matchless Grace;
That thou wilt walk, that thou wilt dwell,
With Adam's worthless Race.

O lead me to that happy Path,
Where I my GOD may meet;
Tho' Hosts of Foes begird it round,
Tho' Briars wound my Feet.

Chear'd with thy Converse I can trace
The Desart with Delight:
Thro' all the Gloom one Smile of thine
Can dissipate the Night.

Nor shall I thro' eternal Days
A restless Pilgrim roam:
Thy Hand, that now directs my Course,
Shall soon convey me home.

I ask not Enoch's rapt'rous Flight
To Realms of heav'nly Day:
Nor seek Elijah's fiery Steeds,
To bear this Flesh away.

Joyful my Spirit will consent
To drop its mortal Load,
And hail the sharpest Pangs of Death,
That break its Way to GOD.