The posthumous works of Ann Eliza Bleecker, in prose and verse To which is added, a collection of essays, prose and poetical |
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A HYMN.
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 | The posthumous works of Ann Eliza Bleecker, in prose and verse |  |
A HYMN.
Omnicient and eternal God,
Who hear'st the faintest pray'r
Distinct as Hallelujahs loud,
Which round thee hymned are.
Who hear'st the faintest pray'r
Distinct as Hallelujahs loud,
Which round thee hymned are.
Here, far from all the world retir'd,
I humbly bow the knee,
And wish, (as I have long desir'd,)
An interest in thee.
I humbly bow the knee,
And wish, (as I have long desir'd,)
An interest in thee.
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But my revolting heart recedes
And rushes to the croud;
My passions stop their ears and lead,
Tho' conscience warns aloud.
And rushes to the croud;
My passions stop their ears and lead,
Tho' conscience warns aloud.
How deeply sinful is my mind?
To every ill how prone?
How stubborn my dead heart I find
Insensible as stone?
To every ill how prone?
How stubborn my dead heart I find
Insensible as stone?
The hardest marble yet will break,
Nor will resist the steel;
But neither wrath nor love can make
My flinty bosom feel.
Nor will resist the steel;
But neither wrath nor love can make
My flinty bosom feel.
My passions like a torrent roar,
And tumbling to hell's glooms
Sweep me away from Reason's shore,
To “where Hope never comes.”
And tumbling to hell's glooms
Sweep me away from Reason's shore,
To “where Hope never comes.”
By labour turn'd the useless stream
Thro' fertile vales has play'd;
But for to change the course of sin
Demands immortal aid.
Thro' fertile vales has play'd;
But for to change the course of sin
Demands immortal aid.
All nature pays the homage due
To the supremely blest;
All but the favour'd being who
Was plac'd above the rest.
To the supremely blest;
All but the favour'd being who
Was plac'd above the rest.
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He bids the teeming earth to bear,
The blushing flow'rs arise;
At his command the sun appears
And warms the orient skies.
The blushing flow'rs arise;
At his command the sun appears
And warms the orient skies.
Oh! was I but some plant or star,
I might obey him too;
Nor longer with the Being war,
From whom my breath I drew.
I might obey him too;
Nor longer with the Being war,
From whom my breath I drew.
Change me, oh God! with ardent cries
I'll venture to thy seat;
And if I perish; hell must rise
And tear me from thy feet.
I'll venture to thy seat;
And if I perish; hell must rise
And tear me from thy feet.
| The posthumous works of Ann Eliza Bleecker, in prose and verse | |