What bright exchange, what treasure shall be given,
For the high birthright of its hope in heaven?
If lost the gem which empires could not buy,
What yet remains?—a dark eternity!
Is earth still Eden?—might a seraph guest
Still midst its chosen bowers delighted rest?
Is all so cloudless and so calm below,
We seek no fairer scenes than life can show?
That the cold Sceptic, in his pride elate,
Rejects the promise of a brighter state,