Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Awake, awake, the grateful lyre,
With rapture touch each tuneful string;
Spitit of love, my voice inspire,
And aid me while the Saviour's praise I sing.
Blessed master, whence to me
All this rich benignity!
Call'd from nothing, form'd from earth,
Thine my being, Thine my birth;
What had I, alas! to claim?
Freely all thy bounties came!
If I wonder, why more free
Flow those bounties, Lord, to me,
Than to thousand' sons of dust,
Who prefer a claim as just?
All researches fruitless prove;
—'Tis the Lord, and it is Love.

200

II

Ah me! Behold yon' brother toil
Up that sandy hill's high length,
With feeble steps and slow; the while
The thirsty sun-beams drink up all his strength!
And his back a burden bears,
And his head is white with cares;
On his cheek sits want, all-pale,
And his languid eye-balls fail;
Labour, penury, and he
Hand in hand, a woeful three!
Tottering on her staff behind,
Weak in body, sad in mind,
Lo—up she drags her weary frame,
His long-approv'd industrious dame;
Sighing oft as on she goes,
Revolving all her long life's woes!

III

Tell me, oh tell, ye aged pair,
As my flaunting wheels whirl by,
Can ye behold me, seated here
With other than a discontented eye?—
I marvel not; and, gracious heav'n,
If aught, sure this may be forgiv'n.
How they labour! while I ride,
Dear affection by my side.

201

Full health mantling in my eye,
Gladness, peace, vivacity!
Soothing friendship gives her balm;
Soft content her happy calm:
“Plenty wears me at her breast,”
“Pleasure lulls my soul to rest.”
Every hope and fear flows even,
From their source, firm faith in heav'n!

IV

Thrice Holy!—whence such love to me!
These, these are thine, as well as I:
My fellow-christians, dear to Thee—
For,—ah! for them Thou did'st not scorn to die!
Let me then the thought improve
Into Gratitude and Love:
Come, and make my heart Thy home,
Humanity, bright cherub, come;
And my inmost soul impress
With sympathetic tenderness:
Time prolong but to bestow
Balm to every brother's woe:
Love I ask—may Love be giv'n;
God is Love,—and Love is heav'n!

Aug. 1760.