The Gospel Miracles In A Series of Poetical Sketches: With Illustrative Conversations. By Richard Mant |
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TO THE READER. |
 | The Gospel Miracles |  |
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TO THE READER.
To thee, kind Reader, who hast travell'd on
Thus far companion of my pensive Muse,
One word is due, which thy indulgence sues
For her last lays, a father's benison.
One word: for if thy heart benignant own
The charm which life's dear charities diffuse,
Such grace thou wilt not to that one refuse:
Ten thousand else were seed on Snowdon sown.
Yet not unmeet is such domestick lay
To speak the triumph of the Saviour's reign;
Who charg'd his Prophet, Herald of his way,
The link paternal in the golden chain
Of love to strengthen; and, for His great day,
Father and child in mutual concord train.
Thus far companion of my pensive Muse,
One word is due, which thy indulgence sues
For her last lays, a father's benison.
One word: for if thy heart benignant own
The charm which life's dear charities diffuse,
Such grace thou wilt not to that one refuse:
Ten thousand else were seed on Snowdon sown.
Yet not unmeet is such domestick lay
To speak the triumph of the Saviour's reign;
Who charg'd his Prophet, Herald of his way,
The link paternal in the golden chain
Of love to strengthen; and, for His great day,
Father and child in mutual concord train.
For what remains:—for health to Israel given
If Moses bade the choral timbrels ring,
And the sweet Psalmist hymn'd with echoing string
God's glory witness'd by the expanse of heaven;
Slight blame she fears for having meekly striven,
Led by his word, of sickness quell'd to sing,
And nature sway'd by heav'n's incarnate King,
And death and hell subdued, and sin forgiven.
Adieu! she quits thee now; but first would plead,
What at thy hands her parting numbers claim.
She seeks to please, and so the heart to lead
To faith and love: if holy be her aim,
Judge her not harshly; rather bid God-speed,
And wish her welfare in the Saviour's name!
If Moses bade the choral timbrels ring,
And the sweet Psalmist hymn'd with echoing string
God's glory witness'd by the expanse of heaven;
Slight blame she fears for having meekly striven,
Led by his word, of sickness quell'd to sing,
And nature sway'd by heav'n's incarnate King,
And death and hell subdued, and sin forgiven.
Adieu! she quits thee now; but first would plead,
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She seeks to please, and so the heart to lead
To faith and love: if holy be her aim,
Judge her not harshly; rather bid God-speed,
And wish her welfare in the Saviour's name!
| The Gospel Miracles | |