THE WISH, IN A POEM TO THE ATHENIANS. WOu'd some kind Vision represent to me How bright thy Streets, Celestial Salem! be; I'd trace thy shining pearly Faths, and tell How bless'd are those that in thy Temple dwell: How much more bright than e're proud Phoebus shed Are those vast Rays the Eternal Sun does spread! Cou'd I the chiefest of ten thousands view, Wou'd Angels me their Admiration shew, I'd tell the Virgins, tell 'em o'reagen How fair he lookt to the black Sons of men: Might I, but ah, while clogg'd with sinful Flesh, In vain I breath out the impatient Wish! But have a glimpse of those fair Fields of Bliss, Where dress'd in Beams, the shining Saints do move More gay then all the fancy'd shades of Love: Where still from pure exhaustless fountains, to Bright Silver streams the Chrystal Waters flow; Where the true Son of Glory ne're declines, But with unclouded Vigour always shines. Where endless Smiles coelestial Faces wear, No Eye eclips'd with a rebellious Tear, For Greif is an unheard of Stranger there. Say then, if ought of that bless'd place you know, Describe its Bliss, its dazling Glories show!