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133

HYMNS.


135

TO THE OMNIPOTENT GOD.

Deo Opt. Max.

Almighty King, who sit'st above,
Enthron'd with Majesty and Love,
Eternal arbiter of fate;
Whether we name thee God of all,
Or Alla, Jove, or Mithra call,
Thou, thou alone art truly great!
Princes, the shadows of thy nod,
Live but to shew, how low to God
Is all the gaudy pride of earth:
Thy Kingdom comprehends all space;
Thy Crown, enrich'd with pearls of grace,
Is glorious as the Morning's birth!
If earth's an atom in thy sight,
Enwrapt in Folly's mazy night,

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How low am I that on it dwell!
Thy Brightness, not the sun can show;
Thy Voice, not all the winds that blow,
Nor all the rolling thunders tell!
The earthquake, and the tempest, both
Are but the bubbles of thy wrath,
When Vice appall'd shrinks at thy frown;
But fearless Virtue's heav'nly form,
Sits, like an angel, mid the storm,
And smiling wreathes her olive crown.
Grasp the whole earth within thy hand,
Bid heav'n be nought at thy command,
Thou, only thou, be still the same;
The void immense itself shall cry,
“Glory to thee, O God most High,”
And ever “hallow'd be thy Name!”

137

HYMNS FOR THE SEASONS.

Quid prius dicam solitis Parentis
Laudibus? Qui res hominum ac deorum
Qui mare, et terras, variis que mundum
Temperat horis.
Hor. Lib. I. Od. xii. v. 13.

SPRING.

How smiling wakes the verdant year
Array'd in velvet green!
How glad the circling fields appear,
That bound the blooming scene!
Forth walks from heav'n the beaming Spring,
Calm as the dew she sheds;
And o'er the winter's mutt'ring king
Her veil of roses spreads.
The sky serene, the waking flow'rs,
The river's loosen'd wave,
Repay the kind and tepid Hours
With all the charms they gave.

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And hark! From yon melodious grove
The feather'd warblers break;
And into notes of joy and love
The solitude awake!
And shall the first belov'd of Heav'n
Mute listen as they sing?
Shall Man, to whom the lyre is giv'n,
Not wake one grateful string?
O let me join th' aspiring lay,
That gives my Maker praise;
Join, but in louder notes than they,
Than all their pleasures raise!
From stormy Winter hoar and chill
Warm scenes of peace arise:
For ever thus from seeming ill
Heav'n every good supplies.
For see, 'tis mildness, beauty, all
Around the laughing whole;
And Nature's verdant charms recall
The mildness of the soul.

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O Thou, from whose all-gracious eye
The sun of splendour beams;
Whose glories ev'ry ray supply,
That gilds the trembling streams;
O'er Nature's green and teeming fields
Bid flow'ry graces rise,
And ev'ry sweet Creation yields
Salute the morning skies.
Where yonder moves the plough of toil
Along the stubborn land,
O kindly lift the yielding soil,
And soothe the lab'ring hand.
Thence bid gay Fruitfulness around
Her blooming reign extend;
And where thy richest gifts are found,
Tell who the heav'nly Friend.
As with her smiles, Life's weary vale
Is gentler trod below;
With thine, the closing home we hail,
That shuts us in from Woe!

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Till that celestial home is ours,
Let us its Lord implore,
Content may cheer our pilgrim hours,
And guide us to the door.

SUMMER.

Bright Summer beams along the sky,
And paints the glowing year;
Where'er we turn the raptur'd eye,
Her splendid tints appear!
Then when so fit to lift the song
To gratitude and Heav'n,
To whom her purple charms belong,
From whom those charms are giv'n?
Thee, thee, Almighty King of kings,
Man worships not alone;
Each budding flow'r its incense brings,
And wafts it to thy throne.

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The fields with verdant mantle gay,
The grove's sequester'd walks,
All, all around, thy praise display,
And dumb Creation talks.
When Morn, with rosy fingers fair,
Her golden journey takes;
When fresh'ning Zephyrs fan the air,
And Animation wakes;
Man starts from emblematic death,
And bends the grateful knee
To welcome with transported breath
New light, and life, and Thee!
When Noon averts his radiant face,
And shuts his piercing eye;
And Eve, with modest measur'd pace,
Steps up the western sky,
Repos'd beneath thy guardian wings
The pious mortal rests;
Nor knows one watchful care that springs
Within unholy breasts.

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What then, if pealing thunders roll,
If lightnings flash afar!
Undaunted hears his sainted soul
The elemental war.
'Tis but to him a parent's voice,
That blesses while it blames;
That bids unburden'd air rejoice,
And life and health proclaims.
Night's deepest gloom is but a calm,
That soothes the wearied mind;
The labour'd day's restoring balm,
The comfort of mankind.
O thus may Heav'n and holy Peace
Smooth soft the rocks of age;
Till Thou shalt bid Existence cease,
And tear its blotted page:
Till storms no more or tempests rage,
And Death's dark vale I see;
That vale, which through the shadowy grave,
Bnt leads to Heav'n and Thee!

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AUTUMN.

Fair Autumn spreads her fields of gold,
And waves her amber wand;
See earth its yellow charms unfold
Beneath her magic hand!
Unrivall'd Beauty decks our vales,
Bright Fruitfulness our plains;
Gay Health with Chearfulness prevails,
And smiling Glory reigns.
To Thee, great lib'ral Source of all,
We strike our earthly lyre;
Till Fate our rising soul shall call,
And Angels form the choir.
The splendour that enchants our eyes,
Reminds us of thy fame;
The blessings that from earth arise
Thy gen'rous hand proclaim.

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The plenty round our meadows seen
Is emblem of thy love;
And harmony that binds the scene,
The peace that reigns above.
Beneath the sickle, smiling round,
And in destruction fair,
The golden harvest strews the ground,
And shuts the labour'd year.
Man drops into refreshing rest,
And smooths his wearied brow;
With rural peace the herds are blest.
And Nature smiles below!
O let thy hand, parental King,
Be open to our pray'rs!
Unlock sweet Plenty's lib'ral spring,
And show'r untainted airs.
And send me thro' life's noiseless way,
With Innocence my guide;
Let no temptations bid me stray,
And leave her angel side!

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O let the bird of tuneful breath,
The beast that frisks on earth,
The fish that sports the wave beneath,
Enjoy their short liv'd mirth!
Let no rude instrument of Fate
Arrest the flutt'ring wing;
No horns re-echo at my gate,
That smiles and slaughter bring;
No quav'ring line, with tortur'd snare
In agonizing fraud,
Explore the streams, that flow so fair,
To tempt the wat'ry lord!
That Mercy which to man is giv'n,
So sweet with dewy eyes,
O let it seek its native Heav'n,
When gentle Pity dies!

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WINTER.

Hark! 'twas dark Winter's sullen voice,
That told the glooms that reign'd;
That bade the plains no more rejoice,
And all the waves be chain'd!
And see green Autumn dies away;
The pallid sire is come!
The plains his shiv'ring rules obey,
And ev'ry wave is dumb!
Yet still with cheerful heart I pace
The whiten'd vale below:
And smile at every printed trace
I leave upon the snow.
Thus (soft I whisper to my breast,)
Man treads life's weary waste;
Each step that leads to better rest
Forgot as soon as past!

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For what is life and all its bliss?
The splendour of a fly;
The breathing of the morning's kiss;
A summer's flushing sky.
Dismantled lies the gaudy fly;
Morn droops at Evening's frown;
And Summer tho' so gay her eye,
Tempestuous terrors crown!
Yes, Lord; but shoots no gladd'ning day
Thro' this nocturnal scene?
Decks not one gem of lively ray
Grief's darksome wave unseen?
How sweet the evergreen beguiles
The gloom of yonder snow!
Thus Virtue cheers, with endless smiles,
Life's wintry waste of Woe.
Howl then, ye storms; ye tempests, beat
Round this unshrinking head!
I know a sweet, a soft retreat
In Virtue's peaceful shed!

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Drive down, ye hails; pour, snows and winds,
Pale terror where I stray!
My foot a path, yet verdant finds
Where Virtue smooths the way!
O Thou, by whose all-gracious hand
The cherub Mercy stands.
Smiling at each divine command,
With fondness o'er the lands;
O let me ne'er with marble eye
Pale shiv'ring want reject,
Where mourns the long, the deep-drawn sigh,
The anguish of neglect!
While lordly Pride and cushion'd Ease
Petition's tear despise;
O let this hand the mourner raise,
And wipe her streaming eyes!
When Death shall call me to my Lord,
To bow beneath his throne;
His praise be the divine reward,
That charity has won.

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There, where no wintry storms affright,
No tempests shake the pole;
No gloomy shades of dreary night
Appall the waking soul;
There, let me ever hymn, adore,
And love th' immortal King;
Love, while dread Winter breaks no more
Th' eternity of Spring!