snatch

When faith and patience, hope and love Have made us meet for Heav’n above; How blest the privilege to rise, Snatch’d, in a moment, to the skies!

A wing�d herald, gladd of soe sweet a prey, Snatch't vpp the falling starre, soe richly gay, And plants it in a precious perfum'd bedd, Amongst those lillies, wch his bosome bredd.

Acasto This might we do if warm'd by that bright coal Snatch'd from the altar of seraphic fire, Which touch'd Isaiah's lips, or if the spirit Of Jeremy and Amos, prophets old, Should fire the breast; but yet I call the muse And what we can will do.

Look'd scornful down on Alexander's might; O'er Europe's realm like Attila he rush'd, Snatch'd, rent, divided, subjugated, crush'd; Here, planted minions in his smile to reign, There, loaded monarchs with his vassal chain.

Snatch’d from Oblivion, there the Dunces soar, Tibbald their Monarch dubb’d, can ask no more, Nor less shall ye——now Colley gives the Word, Rouse up! and crowd into the next Record, Or, lost to Memory, no other Page Can possibly retrieve ye half an Age; And now the glad Occasion aptly calls, To break more Printers, and to spread more Stalls; To save your Names from Lethe, tho’ your Books Are doom’d the Prize of Fruiterers and Cooks.