Miscellaneous Pieces :: :: University of Virginia Library

Queen of seasons, lovely spring,
What distant happy clime detains
The lingering wheels of thy refulgent car?
What unknown charm detains thee far
From these expecting, mourning plains?
What soft inchantment binds thy zephyr's wing?
Silent on the leafless tree
Hangs the rural muses lyre;

Still she waits in vain for thee,
Waits till thou the song inspire.
The field, the grove, the garden mourn thy stay:
O lovely queen of seasons, come away!

II.

Gentle zephyrs wake and rise
Spread your silken wings, and bear
On her bright enamel'd car,
The beauteous nymph to our desiring eyes!
Come beauteous nymph in all thy charms array'd,
And bless the field, and bless the rural shade!
Stern winter with his dreary train
At thy approach shall leave the plain;
And nature o'er the russet mead
Again her verdant mantle spread;
Thy presence shall the grove inspire,
And bid the various, artless choir,
Sweet warbling pour the gratulating strain.

III.

Queen of seasons come away!
Time invites, and nature sues;
Fancy spreads her wing to meet thee,
Fancy, handmaid of the muse;
Rural muse that waits to greet thee:

While reclin'd in pensive guise,
Silent she deplores thy stay,
Oft she lifts her longing eyes,
And now she ruminates the long-neglected lay.

IV.

Fancy never waiting long,
Ever active, ever young,
Now with wild ungovern'd fire
Snatches quick the muses lyre,
And come ye powers of harmony she cries;
Come bring the song to hail your queen;
Bid every tuneful accent rise:
I see afar her radiant car;
She comes! she comes to bless the rural scene!

V.

O'er yon wide extended lawn,
See! by gentle zephyrs drawn,
With easy grace her glittering chariot glides:
A thousand gems resplendent from its sides,
Reflect the lustre of the solar ray:
Fair treasure of the vernal morn,
Which bounteous nature bids adorn
With purest elegance the rising day.

VI.

And now behold the beauteous queen!
Drest in a robe of lively green
That cheers the gazing eye:
Green is the ground, but o'er it spread,
Wrought with inimitable skill,
Beyond description's boldest quill,
By nature's animating hand,
A various rich embroidery glows;
And though the work no real error knows,
All with the nicest care exactly plann'd;
The tints in seeming, sweet confusion lie;
Here shines the purple, there the red,
Here yellow, snowy white, and azure's lovely die.

VII.

While irregularly gay,
Fancy thus attun'd the lay,
The muse arose (with brow severe)
In all her dignity, and said,
Fancy, stop thy wild career,
Behold, impetuous, heedless maid:
With erring hand would'st thou presume
The laws of nature to controul?
Dost thou accuse the lingering spring,
Who canst not cause one flower to bloom,
Or paint one summer insect's wing?

The circling seasons all fulfill
With steady course, his sovereign will,
Whose awful mandate bade them roll,
Whose orders nature hears from pole to pole.

VIII.

At his command, returning spring
Shall pour her blessings o'er the plain:
Till then thy airy flights restrain,
Nor touch my darling lyre again
Till nature bids thee sing.
Then shall the fields their charms resume,
The flowery tribes renew their bloom;
Soft warbling from the fragrant spray,
To hail the lovely vernal day,
Sweet music rise from birds of various wing.
Their tribute to the hand divine,
The rural scenes shall gladly raise;
And nature's every voice shall join
The hymn of undissembled praise.
Then shall my long-neglected lyre,
(If nature's Lord the song inspire,)
Awake to rapture every tuneful string.

Written in May,

After a seasonable Shower of Rain.

How chang'd the face of nature shows,
How gay the rural scene!
A fairer bloom the flowers disclose,
The meads a livelier green.

While beauty clothes the fertile vale,
And blossoms on the spray,
And fragrance breathes in every gale,
How sweet the vernal day!

And hark! the feather'd warblers sing!
Tis nature's cheerful voice;
Soft music hails the lovely spring,
And woods and fields rejoice.

How kind the influence of the skies!
These showers, with blessings fraught,
Bid verdure, beauty, fragrance rise,
And fix the roving thought.

O let my wondering heart confess,
With gratitude and love,
The bounteous hand that deigns to bless
The garden, field, and grove.

That bounteous hand my thoughts adore,
Beyond expression kind,
Hath sweeter, nobler gifts in store,
To bless the craving mind.

That hand, in this hard heart of mine
Can make each virtue live,
And kindly showers of grace divine
Life, beauty, fragrance give.

O God of nature, God of grace,
Thy heavenly gifts impart!
And bid sweet meditation trace
Spring blooming in my heart!

Inspir'd to praise I then shall join
Glad nature's cheerful song:
And love and gratitude divine
Attune my joyful tongue.

The Sickly Mind.

Where are the happy moments fled?
Where are the joys that once were mine?
When meditation kindly spread
The sweet repast,
And bade me taste
Of mental food, varieties divine?
Reflection thus enquiring sighs,
But hope with cheerful air replies,
Again those happy moments may be thine:
Meditation ever kind,
Still invites the longing mind;
And see! she spreads her banquet full in view,
Such food the sons of luxury never knew.

Alas! in vain, my heart replies,
In vain her rich varieties
A languid, a distemper'd taste invite!
Gentle hope, thy friendly power
Sooths in vain the mournful hour.

Till thy fair sister come and bless my sight:
She can point a sovereign cure
For disorders of the mind,
Health, vigor, and delight she can ensure
From that blest hand which heal'd the lame and blind.

Come radiant faith, and guide my way!
Hope, on thy kind arm I stay,
Lead, O lead me to my Lord!
If he pronounce the healing word,
This mental languor shall depart,
And health and vigor animate my heart.

Alas! my guide—how dim her eye!
How feeble my supporter's arm!
But he can purge the mist away,
And clear the intellectual ray;
His vital word this fainting heart can warm,
And bid my hope be strong, and teach my faith to fly.

Great Physician, gracious Lord,
Speak the life-restoring word,
My drooping powers renew!
Meditation then shall spread,
Not in vain, the various feast,
All her sweets the mind shall taste,

While still new dainties rise to view;
(With dainties such as her's are angels fed)
Nor can the sacred banquet ever cloy,
Unlike to sensual food, akin to heavenly joy.

To a Flower.

Emblem of Aminta's form,
Blossom elegant and fair,
Young Aminta has a charm
Flowers like thee can never wear.

In her mind good nature blooms,
Fairer than thy spotless white;
Flower diffusing sweet perfumes
While it glads the gazers sight.

Though the Lilly and the Rose
Mix their beauties in her face,
This with sweeter lustre glows,
Lustre heightening every grace.

Nor be this alone her praise,
While the muse's friendly eye
Many a fragrant bud surveys,
Bud where latent beauties lie.

O may every mental grace
Ripening fair its bloom display,
More than emulate her face,
Bloom which never can decay.

The Salutary Disappointment.

With anxious thought an author pil'd
His labour'd volumes high and fair,
And now he sigh'd, and now he smil'd,
As rul'd alternate, hope and care.

At length consirm'd, erect he rose,
For lo! inspiring pride appears,
With all her fire his bosom glows,
While the bold wish he thus declares.

This monument shall bear my name
In spite of time's destroying hand,
Thy votary hear, auspicious fame,
To future ages let it stand!

Old time was posting by in haste,
Not complaisant enough to stay,
His wing just touch'd it as he past,
In dust the boasted trophy lay.

The author fainted at the sight,
But virtue came forgiving, kind,
When pride retreats 'tis her delight
To animate the drooping mind.

No more, mistaken youth (she cries)
No more invoke deluding fame,
But let thy nobler wishes rise,
Heaven only gives a deathless name.

The Butterfly.

Pretty vagrant of the air,
Emblem of the thoughtless fair:
Near akin their life and thine,
Both a fleeting summer shine.
Short delight your charms impart,
Charms to catch the human heart:
Hearts that can be caught with show,
The virtuoso or the beau.
Thoughtless nymphs are butterflies,
Different species, larger size;
Strangers both to needful care,
Fluttering, roving here and there;

Basking in the vernal ray,
Trifling out the summer's day:
Summer's day, from youth to age,
Trifles all their cares engage:
But when wintry storms arise,
Beauty fades, and pleasure dies.

Me let nobler cares employ,
Cares which terminate in joy.
Ere the summer sunbeams flee,
Let me, like the frugal bee,
Well improve the smiling hour,
Gathering sweets from every flower.

O may virtue's charms be mine,
Charms that still increasing shine!
These will cheer the wintry gloom,
These will last beyond the tomb.

Ode to Melancholy.

Daughter of grave reflection, gentle power,
Whose dictates oft improve the lonely hour,
Kind melancholy come!
I seek thy friendly aid;
Beneath thy hallow'd shade

(Still, unmolested gloom,)
Gay mirth's amusing trifles disappear.
Nor art thou far away,
Witness the starting tear
That trembles in my eye;
Kind melancholy say,
Does not the involuntary sigh
Proclaim thy salutary influence near?

Friend to virtue, foe to pride,
Come, and place thee near my side,
And teach my heart how vain are all the toys
Which wear the smiling form of earthly joys!
Yonder see, the phantoms rising,
In alluring colours drest!
See them fleeting from the view!
See deluded crowds pursue!
Danger braving, toil despising,
Till, at length they catch—the air!
The tempting forms that smil'd so fair
Elude their grasp, and leave the heart unblest.

Gentle melancholy, say,
Didst thou never softly steal
Into th' assemblies of the gay,
And the truth, in whispers tell?
When mirth and thoughtless pleasure smiling,
Music's charms the heart beguiling,
Unheeded bore the midnight hour away.

Didst thou not whisper, “you must die?”
Did not the bosom heave a sigh,
And for one serious minute banish mirth?
That minute, were enough to show
That pleasure terminates in woe,
That vain are all the boasted joys of earth!
But mirth intrudes with fatal art
To seize the half-relenting heart,
And stifle young conviction in its birth.

Melancholy, friendly power,
Oft beneath thy awful gloom,
(Heart-affecting thoughts inspiring)
From the busy world retiring,
Let me spend the solemn hour!
Let me meditate the tomb!
Meditate, but not alone,
Lest my heart should sink dismay'd;
Let religion ever near,
(Sacred guardian) banish fear,
Let my heart, her presence own,
While through the over-spreading shade
(Excluding every glimpse of day)
Her smiles diffuse a cheering ray,
And gild the dark, cold mansions of the dead.

Ode to Hope.

Friend of the fainting mind, whose kindly ray,
Soft rising o'er affliction's dreary shade,
Foretells the sweet approach of day,
And cheers the weary darksome way,
And bids dejection raise her languid head.

Celestial hope, on thy propitious smile
Calm patience waits, by thee sustain'd
She ne'er repines, though often pain'd;
Untiring through life's various toil,
She knows to bear
With placid air
Cold wintry storms, and treads down thorny care.

Dear faithful friend, thy lenient hand allays
The pangs of grief, and smooths the frowning brow
Of rough adversity, thy voice conveys
Reviving comfort to the sons of woe;
Thy gentle voice rebukes their fears,
The sigh, suspended, listening dies,
And sorrow stays her flowing tears
While happier scenes in distant prospect rise.

Thou last, kind solace of distress,
Whose smile retains a power to bless
Though every friend besides, depart;
Still kind, still faithful to thy trust,
Thy influence hovers o'er the panting heart,
While reason lives to wake desire,
Till life's pale trembling lamp expire,
Till the pain'd, prison'd mind shall rise,
And drop her feeble mansion in the dust,
To claim thy promis'd bliss beyond the skies.

Celestial hope, fair child of truth divine!
O may thy heavenly ray,
Bright harbinger of day,
Still on my heart with cheering lustre shine!
Through each dark scene, each mournful shade,
Till I no more shall need thy aid;
Till that bright hour, when to my raptur'd eyes
(O may I call the unknown transport mine!)
The morning of immortal day shall rise,
And thou to perfect joy thy charge resign.

To Amira on the death of her Son.

Enough to nature and to grief is paid,
Indulge no more these unavailing tears;
Not all your comforts in the grave are laid,
Through grief's dark shade a lucid ray appears.

A ray of heaven fair beaming through the gloom!
Bids fainting hope lift up her languid eyes;
While faith directs her view beyond the tomb,
To those bright scenes where joys immortal rise.

Cleans'd, in the Saviour's blood, from every stain,
Think with what transport you will meet above,
(For ever free from sin and grief and pain)
The dear, departed object of your love!

Then, though your bleeding heart its loss deplore;
O yet be each repining thought supprest,
That sovereign hand, which cannot err, adore,
Here, may your heart with full affiance rest.

Indulgent mercy blends, with lenient skill,
Sweet cordials with the bitter cup of woe:
And many a friend, and many a comfort still,
Are kindly spar'd to cheer your stay below.

Your stay, perhaps for high important ends,
May be prolong'd through many circling years,
A blessing to your partner, children, friends,
And future comfort pay your present tears.

May humble resignation calm your breast,
And faith enjoy, with heaven illumin'd eye,
A prospect of the regions of the blest,
Where pleasures bloom, that never, never die!

Desiring to love Christ and obey him.

If ye love me, keep my commandments.

Jesus my Lord, in thy dear name unite,
All that my heart calls great, or good, or sweet;
Whate'er inspires with wonder or delight,
In thee, thou fairest of ten thousand, meet.

Do I not love thee? ah my conscious heart
Nor boldly dares affirm, nor can deny;
O bid these clouds of gloomy fear depart,
With one bright ray from thy propitious eye!

Do I not love thee? can I then allow,
Within my breast pretenders to thy throne?
O take my homage, at thy feet I bow!
No other Lord my heart desires to own.

Take, take my passions in thy sovereign hand,
Refine and mould them with almighty skill;
Then shall I love the voice of thy command,
And all my powers rejoice to do thy will.

Thy love inspires the active sons of light,
With swift-wing'd zeal, they wait upon thy word;
O let that love, in these abodes of night,
Bid my heart glow to serve my dearest Lord!

Come love divine, my languid wishes raise!
With heavenly zeal this faint cold heart inflame,
To join with angels in my Saviour's praise,
Like them, obey his will, adore his name!

But can the mind, with heavy clay opprest,
To emulate seraphic ardour rise?
While sin pollutes her joys, forbids her rest,
How can she join the worship of the skies?

Yet he commands to love and to obey,
Whose hand sustains those happy spirits there;
In him, my soul, who is thy guide, thy stay,
In him confide, to him commit thy care.

Jesus my Lord, O give me strength divine!
Then shall my powers in glad obedience move;
Receive the heart that wishes to be thine,
And teach, O teach me to obey and love!

On hearing the Funeral Bell, After frequent deaths in the neighbourhood.

Again, the solemn warning strikes my ear!
The solemn warning that so oft of late
Hath bid my soul be ready! shall the call,
Loud, frequent, pressing, awful, sound in vain?
Around me, death selects his fated prey;
On silent wing, commission'd, fly his shafts,
Nor ever miss their mark, a victim here
By age enfeebled, faintly struggling, falls
An easy conquest! there in manhood's prime,
Transfix'd, and raging with the venom'd dart,
Another groans, strength ministering to pain,
Contending long, unequal to the fight,
At length, in agonizing pangs expires!
Another here, and there another falls
In early bloom, the ruthless stroke at once

Cuts off the parent's hope, and leaves a wound,
Which lenient time, slow healing, hardly cures!
Where, next, will light his arrows? vain demand!
That awful power, who points them, only knows.
Perhaps some lov'd, perhaps some honour'd life,
Dear as my own, invites his present aim:
How will my bleeding heart outlive the stroke,
When ev'n the apprehension wounds so deep?
Yet, this anticipated woe, a care
Still nearer, more important, supersedes!
O let me ask my conscious, trembling heart,
While yet the solemn question may avail,
Canst thou, undaunted, meet the King of terrors?
In his commission, for this night, this hour,
My name may be contain'd—suppose it spread
Before thy view—rouze, instant rouze thy powers
To meet, with fortitude, the potent foe!
Alas! how weak, how helpless! soon I fall,
The insulting victor triumphs—no, behold
An arm superior, stretch'd for my support!
O death where is thy sting? the Lord of life,
In whom I trust, can disappoint thy power;
Can bid my soul defy thy keenest dart,
And triumph o'er thy terrors! he bestows
(O gift immense!) a life beyond thy reach,
Eternal life! reveal'd by truth divine
The glorious promise stands, confirm'd by oath,
The awful sanction of omnipotence!

Here, then, my soul, let thy enquiry fix,
Deliberate, serious, ardent! on this point,
This interesting point, depends thy all!
Is death disarm'd for thee? is life begun?
For all who live for ever, must, new born
Begin to breathe that life divine on earth.
O thou, whose potent word, from nothing rais'd
Unnumber'd worlds, whose all-inspiring breath
Gives life to nature in her countless forms!
Great source of life divine! whose quickning power
Recalls from death's domain, the heirs of bliss,
Once, heirs of woe, a new created race,
Form'd for thy praise, to life immortal form'd;
Assist my search! thy piercing eye surveys
The close recesses of my inmost heart,
And marks its every motion, do I breathe
Warm'd by thy vital ray? are these desires,
Which nought below thy favour can suffice,
A proof of that immortal life begun,
Which nought below omnipotence can give?
Is not the rising hope which cheers my soul,
Sweet beaming through the gloomy fears of death,
The dawn of life? O teach my trembling heart
To trace it to its source, the Saviour's cross!
That wondrous cross, where death resign'd his arms,
And own'd the conqueror God! where life divine
Breath'd in the great Redeemer's dying groans,
And pour'd its influence from his bleeding veins

To quicken, cleanse, illuminate, and raise
To immortality, the blind, polluted,
The helpless, hopeless, wretched prey of death!
Stupendous work of love, almighty love!
Yes, dearest Lord, from thee my soul derives
Her only hope, from thee these faint desires
Which thou canst raise, invigorate, and fill.
O teach my faith on stronger wing to rise
To those bright regions, where eternal life
In full perfection glows, and bid my hope
With firmer confidence on thee recline,
My guardian, my defence! by thee sustain'd,
My heart shall meet, serene, this dreaded foe,
And smile to see his harmless arrows fly.
Secure of conquest in my Saviour's might
Secure of life beyond this narrow span!
A life unbounded as the glorious hope
Thy love inspires, and fill'd with all the joy
Thy blissful presence gives, commensurate
The life, the joy, with vast eternity.

True Happiness.

Celestial content, inexhaustible treasure!
The man that enjoys thee requires no addition;
In thee he possesses wealth, honour, and pleasure:
O happy condition!

With pity he looks on the many, pursuing
The trifles of earth with such eager attention,
And straining, in chase of their utter undoing,
Their tortur'd invention.

Then upward on faith's friendly pinion he rises,
With rapture the glorious reversion beholding;
The gates to that bliss, which his longing heart prizes
(Tho' distant) unfolding.

On inviolate truth while his hopes are depending,
Nor terrors affright, nor afflictions depress him;
Assur'd, tho' to death's gloomy mansions fast tending
His God will still bless him.

Releas'd from the sorrows of time his glad spirit
Shall leave its weak partner, and joyfully soaring.
The promis'd possession begin to inherit;
With angels adoring.

He knows that his body, the grave now detaining,
In Jesus' bright image hereafter arising,
Shall surely rejoin him, no sorrow remaining,
Corruption despising.

Then with heaven's fair armies in triumph ascending
Partake of delights ever new and abounding;
Enraptur'd before the bright throne lowly bending
Salvation resounding.

Waiting for Morning.

[_]

Psalm xxx. 5.

Long and mournful is the night,
Mental night of gloomy fear:
Source of comfort, source of light
When, O when wilt thou appear!
Thy beams alone can bid the gloom depart,
And spread celestial morning o'er my heart.

Morning of that glorious day
Which the blest enjoy above,
Where with full unclouded ray
Shines thy everlasting love:
Where joy triumphant fills the bright abode,
O happy world! fair paradise of God!

Thither if the heart aspire,
Shall it, Lord, aspire in vain?
Shall the breathings of desire
Rise with unavailing pain?
O thou my guide, my solace, and my rest,
In this sad desart shall I rove unblest?

Sure the Lord of life is near
Though a cloud his face conceal:
Jesus, when wilt thou appear,
When thy cheering beams reveal?
When shall thy beams of soul-reviving light
Dispel this gloomy cloud this mental night?

Not in vain aspires the heart
That depends on thee alone;
Light and joy thou wilt impart,
Radiant dawn of bliss unknown.
Here let me wait beneath thy guardian wing
Till from thy smile celestial morning spring.

To Amira on her Mother's illness.

Say, dear Amira, while this bosom shares
Your load of grief, and heaves the silial sigh;
Shall Christians sink beneath time's transient cares,
And fainting hope scarce lift her languid eye?

While o'er affliction's gloom, a deeper night
Dark apprehension spreads, and woes unborn
Rise visionary to the mental sight,
The present grief we feel, the future mourn.

Indulge, forgive the sister and the friend,
Permit reflection to present to view
The secret cause that thus oppress'd we bend,
And to their source these tyrant fears pursue.

Their source is unbelief, a foe confess'd,
And yet, how close connected with the heart,
We lodge the traitor that betrays our rest,
And stabs our comforts in the vital part.

What is the Christian's portion? bliss terrene,
Health, riches, friends? alas, how light they weigh!
Can we, contented with a lot so mean
Pronounce it bliss? frail tenure of a day!

No, says the soul whom heaven-born faith inspires,
Jehovah is the portion of my choice,
In him, who fills, alone, my vast desires,
Though health, wealth, friends forsake me, I rejoice.

The blessings God hath lent, when he recalls
Faith bids the heart with full consent resign,
Low at his feet the heart adoring falls!
“Lord, 'tis enough, I'm blest while thou art mine!”

Should he recall (we tremble at the thought)
A parent honour'd, lov'd: Faith lifts her eye,
And, “See (she cries) the hour, with transport fraught,
“That joins your souls in bliss beyond the sky!”

The sorrow-shaded scenes that rise between,
Time's friendly wing will quickly bear away;
And hope with placid air shall wait serene,
While faith points forward to eternal day.

Then join, my dear Amira, join your friend,
To combat unbelief, his aid implore
On whose kind arm our faith and hope depend,
Here may we rest, desire, expect, adore.

The Happy Man.

[_]

From the 23d Psalm.

Happy the man of heavenly birth,
Beyond the proudest boast of earth,
Whom mercy thus sustains:
To scenes of living verdure led,
Plenty and peace their blessings spread,
And not a thought complains.

Conducted by his gracious guide
Where streams of sweet refreshment glide,
And fed with food divine;
God is the guardian of his rest,
Beneath his smile, serenely blest,
He bids his soul recline.

Yet, should his feet forgetful stray,
His guide restores, and points the way
To safety, life, and peace;
Still mindful of his glorious name,
A faithful God is still the same,
His paths are righteousness.

Should gloomy shades the path o'erspread,
Dark as the mansions of the dead,
His heart no terrors wound:
His heavenly guardian ever near,
Sustains his hope, forbids his fear,
And comfort smiles around.

The constant bounty of his Lord,
With rich provision spreads his board,
Amid repining foes:
While peace and gladness on his head
Their sweetest odours hourly shed,
His cup with bliss o'erflows:

O happy portion! lot divine!
Thus shall indulgent goodness shine
On all his future days;
For ever near his guardian God
Shall mercy fix his blest abode,
And tune his soul to praise.

To Philander.

While in the arms of death your Delia sleeps
And o'er her ashes fond remembrance weeps;
In tender grief let friendship claim a share,
Friendship, that fain would ease Philander's care.
But say, is this the whole of friendship's lore,
To sympathize, to pity, to deplore?
Be her's the effort (else how weakly kind)
To cheer, to elevate the drooping mind.
And weak (unaided) would the effort prove;
But heaven-born hope assists the voice of love.
See my Philander o'er your Delia's tomb
Hope smiles and dissipates the dreary gloom.
Celestial comforter! she points your eye
To life, to happiness beyond the sky.
Attend her-cheering whisper to your heart!
“There lives your once-lov'd Delia's nobler part.
“Can you regret that from the scenes of woe,
“The long affliction she sustain'd below,
“Heaven call'd her spirit from its dark abode
“To the bright mansions of her Saviour God?

“Her mortal part, beneath his watchful eye,
“Secure (though mouldering in the grave) shall lie,
“Till the last trumpet's animating breath
“Pierce through the boundless monarchy of death;
“Collect each atom of the sleeping dust
“And in immortal vigour raise the just.
“The body then, restor'd, renew'd, refin'd,
“Shall join in perfect bliss, its partner mind;
“Array'd in pure etherial radiance rise,
“Mix with the bright assembly of the skies;
“In joys unknown to thought for ever prove
“The boundless blessings of redeeming love;
“And every tongue, to rapture tun'd, proclaim
“The endless glories of the Saviour's name.
“Then shall Philander and his Delia join
“With heaven's immortal choir, the song divine—
“Look forward to the bright, the glorious hour
“And trust your Saviour's mercy, truth and power.”

O my Philander, may the blissful ray
Which points our wishes to the seats of day,
Still on our hearts its healing lustre shed,
Amid the gloomy mansions of the dead!
In all her force may hope celestial glow
Till heaven's fair dawn beam o'er the shades of woe;
Till faith shall with seraphic ardour rise,
And claim the promis'd glories of the skies;
Till that illustrious, that transporting hour,
When death for ever shall resign his power;

When joy shall wipe the tear from every eye
And faith and hope in perfect vision die.

Support in Trouble.

Though terrors late alarm'd my breast,
And rais'd a threatening tempest there,
Yet, Lord, my passions own thy hand,
The storm subsides at thy command,
And now my calmer thoughts attest
Thy well-try'd love, thy long experienc'd care.

Faith, scarce discern'd a glimpse of light,
Hope languish'd with dejected eye,
Reason, (weak empress of the mind)
To passion had the helm consign'd,
Loud was the storm and dark the night,
But thy supporting, guardian hand was nigh.

Almighty Saviour, gracious Lord,
Thou only refuge of my soul,
Thy sovereign voice when I can hear,
I gain new strength to combat fear,
Hope rests on thy unchanging word,
Thy word can every rising fear controul.

Hence, guilty diffidence be gone,
With all thy train of boding fears;
Let faith and calm expectance wait,
And cheerful hope, with eye sedate,
Look up and watch the smiling dawn
That through the sable veil of night appears.

That smiling dawn derives its ray
From the full source of light divine;
O sun of righteousness, impart
Thy healing radiance to my heart!
Increasing till celestial day
Dispel the gloom, and joy unclouded shine.

The restless Mind.

Active, busy, restless mind
That canst never be confin'd;
Whither, whither dost thou stray?
Seek a guide that knows the way
To the fair, the happy shore,
Which thy wing would fain explore.
Fancy sees the angels stand
Beckoning on the distant land:

Gentle spirits, can you guide
O'er the ocean deep and wide,
Winds impetuous, seas untry'd?
Can you point the port of rest?
Aid a stranger to be blest?
Vain enquiry!—silent all—
Quite regardless of my call!
Will no kind, no able friend
Hear, on whom I may depend?
Hear, and teach this restless mind
How, the seats of bliss to find?
Yes, behold that friend appears!
Friend of mortals, Jesus hears:
Kindly smiling, see, he stands!
See, his stretch'd, inviting hands!
Hark! he wooes thee to be blest!
Calls thee to the port of rest!
He can teach thee to explore,
He alone, that happy shore.
Though the dull, incumbent air
Frown with heavy clouds of care;
He can aid and point thy flight;
Give thee strength, and give thee light.
O'er the ocean, deep, and wide,
Winds impetuous, seas untry'd,
He thy passage can sustain;
Winds and waves shall rage in vain.

Gracious Saviour, guide divine!
To thy conduct I resign
This enquiring restless mind;
Happy, if her Lord is kind:
Happy, if amid her way,
Now and then a heavenly ray
Open to her longing eye
That fair paradise on high,
Whither her best wishes tend,
Where her toils and cares shall end.

On receiving a Mourning Ring for a Young Relative.

The mournful gift, attentive, while I view,
My once-lov'd Nancy rises to my thought;
The sigh of friendship, to her memory due,
Breathes from my heart, with tender anguish fraught.

Young, blooming, amiable, lamented maid!
When life's gay, flattering prospect open'd fair;
Down sunk the scene in death's cold dismal shade,
And the fond parent mourns his frustrate care.

Ye sad survivors, while each bleeding heart
Hangs on her lov'd idea, may you know
The heaven-taught lesson, the celestial art
To gather blessings in the shades of woe!

Perhaps the awful stroke may seem severe;
But let reflection speak, her voice attend!
While grief supplies the unavailing tear,
Reflection points our own approaching end.

That end approaching is our chief concern,
Life's most important business is, to die;
This truth, each friend expiring bids us learn,
Which, while we mourn, impels a deeper sigh.

O may the needful sigh be unsupprest,
Till kind reflection lead the restless heart
To that bright world where only, life is blest,
And conquer'd death resigns his fatal dart!

To life immortal, he reveals the way
Who dying triumph'd over nature's foe:
His word, if we receive, believe, obey,
Fair hope shall bloom amid the shades of woe.

Ye flattering scenes of earthly bliss, adieu!
You smile, and promise, but deceive the mind:
Celestial hope directs our upward view
To pleasures real, lasting and refin'd.

To Amira on the sudden Death of her Mother.

Though nature, friendship, filial love awake
The springs of grief, and though the sudden shock
O'erpower'd the mind, (too weak to meet surprize!)
At length my dear Amira, be our griefs
Restrain'd, obedient to the voice divine
Which calms the winds and seas, that sovereign voice
Which bids the tempest of the mind—“Be still.”
Reflection now returning, may our souls
Adore submissive his disposing hand,
Who gives and takes our comforts as he pleases,
Still wise and good in all. O let our hearts
Complain no more, for through the cloud of woe
Kind mercy shines, her beams disperse the gloom,
As sun-beams chase the fragments of a storm.
Look up, Amira, see the father's hand,

Indulgent, tender, in the stroke we mourn!
Say, could the awful messenger appear
In a more gentle form? how soft the touch
That loosen'd nature's bands, dissolv'd the tie
That held the weary spirit, prison'd long,
In a frail, ruin'd tenement below,
And bade her rise to liberty and joy!
Say do we mourn the friend, the parent lost?—
—Ah no, retract the word, she is but call'd,
Before us call'd to her celestial home,
That blissful home, so long, so much desir'd;
And hope soft whispers we shall meet her there.
Meet her—but how? enfeebled, bent with years,
Worn out with pains, her mental powers decay'd
And lost to social joys? though hope, and trust,
And patient resignation shone serene,
The christian's pattern, and the friend's support:
Their work fulfill'd, those graces have resign'd
Their seat to perfect joy and endless praise.
How shall we meet her in the blest abode?
Urania, come, thy fairest colours bring,
Present the dear departed to our view
Such as she shines amid the blissful choir.
Let youth immortal, drest in heavenly smiles,
And winning graces, o'er her form diffuse
Its lively bloom; while dignity and love
Sit on her aspect, such as angels wear!

But not thy noblest strokes, thy sweetest force,
In equal colours e'er can represent
A soul made perfect in the realms of light,
And in her saviour's lovely image drest.
Nor can thy tints, though borrow'd from the sky,
Describe the vigorous life, the active joy
Which animates a citizen of heaven.
Urania, drop thy pencil, take the lyre,
Not to deplore the friend, the parent lost;
But to congratulate the saint arriv'd,
From life's long, painful voyage safe arriv'd,
And crown'd, triumphant, on the blissful shore,
With perfect pleasure, and eternal peace.
O could thy lyre but faintly emulate
On earth, the strains which her rapt ear imbibes,
Her voice melodious joins; the notes would charm
The mournful memory of her loss to rest,
And bid desire, and faith, and hope arise
To share her transports in that world of joy.
O may that glorious, happy world emit
Its sweet, though distant radiance to our hearts,
And raise, and fix our hopes and wishes there!
Has not the dawn of that eternal day
Which God's unclouded smile diffuses there,
Sometimes, Amira, beam'd a cheering ray
On these dark scenes? and shall that dawn be lost
To shine no more?—impossible—as soon
The sun shall faint amid his morning way,

And leave the world to everlasting night.
That grace omnipotent, that stedfast truth
On which, below, her heaven-born hope reclin'd,
Who now rejoices in that hope fulfill'd,
Invites our humble trust, forbids our fear.
May the same grace that led her safely through
The cares, the dangers, and the pains of time,
Preserve, support, and guide us in the way,
The living way by which she reach'd the skies!
Then shall we join with her the heavenly choir,
Partake the bliss, and tune the raptur'd song
To Jesus, who prepares a mansion there
For all who love his name, and trust his grace:
To Jesus, who from death's envenom'd dart
Extracts the poison, fatal now no more:
That foe to nature is become a friend;
He at his Lord's command, unfolds the gate
To life, and liberty, and endless joy.

Ode on a rural Prospect in June.

I.

At length she deigns, (indulgent power!)
To bless the solitary hour:

Divine Urania, pleasing guest!
My passions own thy soft controul;
Welcome to my grateful breast,
Sooth my every care to rest;
O pour thy kindest influence on my soul!

II.

Touch the sweet, the charming lyre,
Tis thine to harmonize the mind!
Thou canst calm delight inspire;
Exalted pleasure, joy refin'd!
Thy lov'd employ thy darling theme
My panting soul aspires to try;
To sing the great the glorious name
Who gives thee all thy pleasing art
To calm to animate the heart;
Creation's lord, and sovereign of the sky!

III.

But aim not, my ambitious song,
To rise with Milton, or with Young,
To whom Urania brought celestial fire;
A living ray from heaven's immortal choir,
That darted through the solid veil of night:
Inspiring ray, that bade them soar
Where mortals never rose before,
While nature wonder'd at the daring flight.

VI.

Unequal to so bold a choice,
A humbler, safer lot be mine!
Urania, tune my trembling voice
To subjects less exalted, yet divine!
Thy softest, gentlest aid impart,
Teach, O teach my longing heart
To trace the radiant footsteps of the God;
To the mind's enraptur'd eyes
Where his milder glories rise,
O'er nature's ample frame diffus'd abroad!

V.

Nature, o'er her ample frame
Shews her great creator's name
Inscrib'd in characters divine!
Every plant, and every flower
Speak his wisdom, goodness, power:
With sweet attractive lustre how they shine!
Ye beauteous scenes, 'tis yours to show
The hand from whence your blessings flow:
To wonder, love, adore, and praise be mine!

VI.

While yonder wide-extended fields,
With eager gaze my eye surveys;
The scene a thousand beauties yields,
A thousand blessings claim my praise.

In nature's lap, see, plenty pours,
With hand profuse, her richest stores!
A lively green arrays the scene,
Impearl'd with soft-descending showers:
Fair vegetation smiles around,
By kindly rains and sunshine fed;
The fertile vales, with beauty crown'd,
Nurse, with indulgent care, the future bread.

VII.

Ye diffident, desponding hearts,
Who forward look with anxious pain,
See, how the hand of providence imparts
Its constant kindness to the foodful grain!
And shall the power that bids the teeming earth
Produce the infant-blade, that bids arise
To full maturity, the tender birth,
Look down on you with less regardful eyes?

VIII.

Hark! how the birds sweet-warbling from the spray,
Enjoy the bounties of the present day:
Their future food, the hedge or wood,
Directed by that gracious hand, provides,
Which with paternal care all nature guides.

That gracious hand, to day adore,
And leave to heaven, to-morrow's care;
Enjoy the present, hope for more;
The power who hears the birds, will hear your prayer.

IX.

Ye trembling souls, with fear opprest,
On whose enfeebled, fainting thought
Hang heavy clouds, with sorrow fraught;
See, smiling hope appear, (celestial guest!)
She speaks, her gentle voice attend!
“No more to earth, ye mourners bend,
“Raise your downcast, weeping eyes,
“See what cheerful prospects rise!
“The corn now ripening in the ear,
“Declares a plenteous harvest near.
“Long has expectant toil, with patience stay'd!
“At length behold expectant toil repaid!
“And shall your weary spirit faint?
“Your nobler expectations die?
“Let patience soften your complaint!
“Trust in his word who rules the earth and sky:
“That sure, that never-failing word declares,
“That those shall reap in joy, who sow in tears.”

X.

Kind hope, the mourner's faithful friend,
Thy peace-inspiring lore
O let my drooping heart attend,
And while I trust adore!

Adore, with thankful love, the hand divine,
That bids through grief's dark shade, thy comforts shine!
That bids, amid this vale of tears,
Flowers of celestial fragrance rise,
That guides, defends, sustains, and cheers,
And points to fairer scenes beyond the skies!

XI.

Lord of my life! to thee I owe
A thousand gifts enjoy'd below,
Of providence and grace:
While nature in her various forms,
My heart enlivens, raises, warms;
Thy hand, O bid my heart with rapture trace!
From thy kind hand, my ever-gracious Lord,
Unnumber'd blessings daily, hourly flow;
To crown them all, does not thy sacred word
Bid hope celestial in my bosom glow?
What more have I to wish? that hope divine,
And faith (kind seraph!) may be ever nigh!
Beneath their influence may my heart refine,
Till the fair dawn of heavenly day
Diffuse its soul-attracting ray,
Disperse the shades, and fix my longing eye,
On scenes of perfect bliss beyond the sky.

The Complaint of the Mind.

Why is the heaven-descended mind
(For nobler purposes design'd)
So close attach'd to frail unthinking clay?
Fain would she taste the joys of light
And meditate her upward flight;
But her weak partner cannot bear the day.

If now and then a ray divine
With sweet attractive lustre shine,
And upward tempt her half expanded wings:
The pains or appetites of sense
Retard her flight with fair pretence,
And chain her joyless down to trifling things.

How blest the unbodied minds above,
Who still desire, delight, and love,
And nought impedes the work, or clouds the joy!
No listless inattention there,
Nor tempting toy, nor gloomy care;
Celestial pleasure smiles without alloy!

O happy period! blissful day!
(Hope, cheerful hails its distant ray,
Though rising tears stand trembling in her eyes)
When this gross heavy clay refin'd,
A fit companion for the mind,
To active, joyful, endless life shall rise!

Jesus, to thee alone I owe
Each cheering glimpse of heaven below,
And thou canst bid the longing mind ascend:
Though dull mortality impede,
She spurns the weight if thou but lead;
On thee alone her strength and hope depend.

O speak the word! her joyful wings
Shall leave this scene of little things
For the fair regions of immense delight!
One kind assuring word of thine
Confirms the bright reversion mine,
And faith shall bid adieu to earth and night.

To Silvia.

While musing in the solitary hour,
My Silvia rises fair to fancy's eye:
Soft, soothing melancholy, pensive power!
Awakes for her the anxious tender sigh.

Ah! how when entering on a world of snares,
Shall innocence preserve the artless maid?
Ah! who shall guide, through life's bewildering cares,
Her steps in safety to some hallow'd shade?

Paternal love with ever-watchful eye
Shall guard from cares, if near her cares should press;
Shall kindly warn of every danger nigh,
And point the path of safety and of peace.

Friendship, for Silvia, shall collect her powers,
And o'er the scene diffuse a lucid ray,
Around her path shall strew the sweetest flowers,
And bid the muse attune her softest lay.

Delusive hope! what dangers rise unseen!
What unsuspected sorrows wait around!
And can a friend or parent step between,
When the wing'd arrow may so quickly wound?

Alas! not friendship's tenderest, kindest art
Can gild affliction's heart-oppressing gloom:
Nor can paternal love repel the dart,
If death stand threatening o'er the gaping tomb.

O for a friend whose life-inspiring smile
Can brighten dark affliction's darkest hours;
Ease every pain, and soften every toil,
And spread new life through nature's fainting powers?

O for a friend whose all-sustaining arm
Can make the heart serenely view the tomb:
Can death of all his dread array disarm,
And place a smiling angel in his room!

And see, my Silvia, see that friend appears!
And hark! he calls you to his guardian arms!
Jesus, that friend indeed! for ever near,
When grief approaches, or when death alarms.

O hear his voice! for heaven attends the sound!
To him alone devote your blooming days:
So shall your life with happiness be crown'd,
So shall you join with angels in his praise.

To Silvia pensive.

Tell me, Silvia, why the sigh
Heaves your bosom, why the tear
Steals unbidden from your eye?
Tell me what you wish or fear?

Providence profusely kind,
Wheresoe'er you turn your eyes,
Bids you with a grateful mind
View a thousand blessings rise.

Round you affluence spreads her stores,
Young health sparkles in your eye,
Tenderest, kindest friends are yours,
Tell me, Silvia, why you sigh?

'Tis, perhaps, some friendly voice
Softly whispers to your mind,
“Make not these alone your choice
“Heaven has blessings more refin'd.

“Thankful own what you enjoy,
“But a changing world like this,
“Where a thousand fears annoy,
“Cannot give you perfect bliss.

“Perfect bliss resides above,
“Far above yon azure sky;
“Bliss that merits all your love,
“Merits every anxious sigh.”

What, like this, has earth to give?
O my Silvia, in your breast
Let the admonition live,
Nor on earth desire to rest.

When your bosom breathes a sigh,
Or your eye emits a tear,
Let your wishes rise on high,
Ardent rise to bliss sincere.

Written in a painful Illness.

Indulgent father, ever gracious God,
Low at thy feet submissive I adore
Thy chastening hand, nor murmur at the rod:
Yet thy supporting arm, I must implore.

Thou holy, wise, and kind, O bid my heart
In patient silence wait thy sovereign will!
Sweet consolation let thy voice impart,
And say to every anxious thought “be still.”

Say to my heart, that often hath prefer'd
To thy kind ear, the supplicating sigh;
“Be comforted, be strong, thy suit is heard;
“Behold my all-sufficient grace is nigh!”

Oft have I wish'd to have my heart resin'd
By cleansing grace; desir'd, and long'd to wear
The bright resemblance of my Saviour's mind,
His gentle, humble virtues copied there.

O may the rod the happy end promote
To humble, cleanse, renew this heart of mine!
And may thy grace assist me to devote
Its powers to thee alone for they are thine!

If the short remnant of my fleeting time
Be near it's period; teach, O teach my soul
On faith's fair wing, to reach that blissful clime
Where time's quick-circling wheels no more shall roll!

Oppress'd with pain my feeble powers decay,
The springs of life wear out, the vital flame
Seems quivering near its exit. Is the day
At hand which shall dissolve this mortal frame?

If this frail tottering mansion soon should fall,
Art thou, my soul, prepar'd to take thy flight?
Prepar'd, at thy almighty Father's call,
To quit, with joy, the scenes of mortal night?

Or canst thou patient see death's threatening dart,
And o'er the expecting grave long-lingering bend,
To drop thy dying partner, loth to part,
While yet thy hopes and wishes upward tend?

What mean these questions?—all depends on thee
My Saviour God: speak to my trembling heart:

Say “thou art mine,” that word is life to me,
And I can smile at death's tremendous dart!

Whether he threaten long, or sudden rend
This mortal frame, and set my spirit free;
That moment let thy angel guards attend,
And bear me safe to life, to heaven and thee.

Desiring a thankful Devotion to God.

My great preserver, to thy gracious hand
My life, my safety, and my all I owe;
New gratitude thy favours still demand,
And still my numerous obligations grow.

Oft hast thou listen'd to my humble prayer,
Oft, at my cry, unwearied mercy came:
O be thy goodness, thy indulgent care,
My constant refuge, my delightful theme!

When warm'd with grateful love to thee my Lord
My thoughts begin to count thy favours o'er,
The boundless sum, what numbers can record?
How vain the attempt! astonish'd I adore!

Yet I may love thee, this is thy command,
Thy kind command, O make me all thy own!
My powers, my passions, Lord, are in thy hand,
And thou canst mould them for thy use alone.

This worthless heart, to thee I would resign,
Poor as it is, thy sovereign hand can raise
A monument to thee, enrich, refine,
And there inscribe thy mercies and thy praise.

Thy wonderous praise, not all creation's tongues
In one harmonious concert, can display;
Not the celestial choir's enraptur'd songs,
Through vast eternity's unbounded day.

And shall a reptile of the dust, aspire
To join with angels in their high employ?
Lord, at thy feet, I lay my trembling lyre
In silent awe, yet mix'd with humble joy.

Yet, if thou bid me try the heavenly theme,
And bless me with thy smile, my lyre again
On every string shall sound thy glorious name,
Thy smile shall animate the feeble strain!

If thou accept, and aid my wish to praise,
Then shall my heart with glad devotion bring
(But ah, how mean thy gift!) her sweetest lays
To thee, my gracious God, my glorious King.

All I enjoy, and all I hope is thine,
Unworthiness, alone, belongs to me;
Inspire me, O my God, with love divine,
And make my life, a hymn of praise to thee.

The Happiness of the Children of God.

And will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters saith the Lord Almighty. 2 Cor. vi. 18.

Extensive promise! O what hopes divine,
What rich delight, the gracious words impart!
My father! when my faith can call thee mine,
A ray of heaven illuminates my heart.

Lord, if thy word confirm my heavenly birth,
And bid me say “my Father,” then I live;
Not all the tenderest, dearest names on earth,
Can half the pleasure, half the transport give.

The Lord Almighty deigns (amazing thought!)
To call us children, (once the heirs of woe,)
Sweet words of consolation, richly fraught
With all the blessings mercy can bestow.

His eye, attentive marks his childrens way,
He guides them safe though dangers lurk unseen:
Though sorrow's gloomy clouds o'ershade the day,
Secure, on his Almighty arm they lean.

His ear, indulgent to their feeble prayer,
Receives each rising wish, each plaintive sigh;
His kind, compassionate, paternal care
Knows all their wants, and will those wants supply.

When foes unnumber'd rise, and fear alarms,
His constant love immediate succour lends,
Encircled in their father's guardian arms,
Foes rise in vain, omnipotence defends.

All needful, present good, his hand provides,
But what their future portion? Angels tell,
(For mortal language fails,) where he resides,
What blooming joys, what boundless raptures dwell.

But not the natives of that glorious place,
Not all the bliss resounding songs above,
Can e'er display the riches of his grace;
Or count the endless wonders of his love.

O could those distant seats of joy impart
A moment of their bliss! how would it raise,
How would it animate this languid heart,
In these dark regions, to begin his praise!

Yet from his word, a bright enlivening ray
Shines on my heart, while all my powers adore;
Jesus, whose wonderous love mark'd out the way,
Jesus, the heavenly friend, is gone before.

Fair mansions in his father's blest abode
That heavenly friend prepares, and joys unknown
By him presented to their Father God,
His children bow before the eternal throne.

In his prevailing, his accepted name,
Father, my soul adores beneath thy feet;
Let his full merits plead my humble claim,
And raise my hope to joy divinely sweet.

A reflection on hearing the Bell at the interment of a neighbour.

That sound e'er long shall mark the solemn hour
When this weak frame, inanimate and cold,
By fellow mortals borne, shall be consign'd
To its dark mansion in the silent grave.
Perhaps, the sigh of tender grief shall heave,
The tear of friendship flow: in sable clad,
Perhaps surviving relatives will move
In slow procession to the house of death;
While sad reflection speaks—“Behold your home!”
But what avails or friendship's tenderest tear,
Or sorrow's deepest groan, or sable robes,
Or all the sad solemnity of woe
Which grief, or custom waste on senseless clay?
Where will my spirit be?—O ye kind few!
Whose faithful hearts shall mourn the friend you lov'd,
Whose thoughts, while nature prompts the tender sigh,

Shall rise, perhaps, beyond the gloomy scene,
By cheerful hope invited, and pursue
That part which cannot die—assist me now!
Now while your love may profit, teach my heart
All that your brighter hope or stronger faith
Hath seen or tasted of the joys to come!
The inevitable hour demands it all.
Lead me! O lead me to that sovereign balm
For death's keen pang, that only antidote
Against the mortal poison, blood divine!
Lead me—ah no—that dear, almighty friend,
Whose bleeding veins pour'd health and life and bliss
For wretches guilty, perishing, undone,
Alone can lead, support, and cheer my soul!
Jesus, my Lord, on thee my all depends,
My everlasting all! O let me feel,
In that dread hour when earthly comforts fail,
Thy love, sweet cordial to my fainting heart!
Infusing strength divine; its vital force
Shall bid me rise superior in the conflict
With nature's foe, and tune my quivering lips
To holy rapture! let thy glorious name,
My Lord, my Saviour, dwell upon my tongue!
While guardian angels join the blissful theme,
Till my glad spirit quits her house of clay,
And rises, with the messengers of heaven,
To join the blest assembly which thy love

Hath ransom'd, cleans'd, and rais'd beyond the reach
Of sin and death, in transports all unknown
To frail mortality! to join the song
For ever new, to thy almighty love.

Desiring the gracious presence of God.

Alas! my heart where is thy absent God,
Arise and search, nor languish hopeless here,
See o'er creation's frame diffus'd abroad,
His power, his wisdom and his love appear!

But chiefly of his sacred word enquire,
There faith and hope diviner glories trace,
Seek with the ardor of sincere desire,
For nature's father is the God of grace.

His sacred word invites me to his feet,
Reveals forgiveness rich and full and free,
The voice of mercy, how divinely sweet!
O be the heavenly accents spoke to me!

God of my life, thy radiant face reveal!
For thou art near though clouds obstruct my sight
Thy voice divine can every cloud dispel,
O speak and give me comfort, give me light!

Thy word permits, commands to seek thy face,
Nor shall the humble mourner seek in vain:
Thou wilt reward the search, thy word of grace
Inviolate for ever must remain.

Thy word of grace—rich treasure of delight!
(O let my soul recall her comforts past)
Not morn's fair dawn is dearer to the sight!
Nor honey sweeter to the longing taste.

And shall those heavenly sweets no more be mine?
Return ye, blissful moments to my heart!
Dispel the cloud, O God of mercy, shine,
And life and peace and happiness impart!

The presence of God, the only comfort in affliction.

In vain, while dark affliction spreads
Her melancholy gloom,
Kind providence its blessings sheds
And nature's beauties bloom.

For all that charms the taste or sight
My heart no wish respires;
O for a beam of heavenly light
When earthly hope expires

Thou only center of my rest,
Look down with pitying eye,
While with protracted pain opprest
I breathe the plaintive sigh

Thy gracious presence, O my God,
My every wish contains,
With this, beneath affliction's load
My heart no more complains.

This can my every care controul,
Gild each dark scene with light;
This is the sunshine of the soul,
Without it all is night.

My Lord, my life, O cheer my heart
With thy reviving ray,
And bid these mournful shades depart
And bring the dawn of day!

O happy scenes of pure delight!
Where thy full beams impart
Unclouded beauty to the sight,
And rapture to the heart.

Her part in those fair realms of bliss
My spirit longs to know:
My wishes terminate in this,
Nor can they rest below.

Lord, shall the breathings of my heart
Aspire in vain to thee?
Confirm my hope, that where thou art
I shall for ever be.

Then shall my cheerful spirit sing
The darksome hours away,
And use on Faith's expanded wing
To everlasting day.

Faith and Hope in divine goodness, encouraged by past experience.

[_]

Psalm xxiii: 6.

Lord while my thoughts with wonder trace
Thy favours past through all my days;
My thankful heart adores thy grace,
I trust that goodness which I praise.

Still from the same eternal spring
Thy various, constant bounties flow;
Beneath the shelter of thy wing
I view serene the shades of woe.

Ev'n death's tremendous vale appears
No more in gloomy terrors drest;
Thy smile, my God, forbids my fears
While on thy gracious hand I rest.

Through the dark scenes of mortal care,
To humble faith's enraptur'd eye
The distant prospect opens fair,
Of radiant mansions in the sky.

Yes, Lord, in thy divine abode
My soul desires, and hopes a place,
To dwell for ever near my God,
And view unveil'd thy lovely face.

With all my powers renew'd, refin'd,
To join the blissful choir above;
In strains immortal, unconfin'd
To celebrate my Saviour's love.

A Thought of Life and Death.

The cares of mortal life, how vain!
How empty every joy!
While grief, and weariness, and pain
The fainting mind employ.

But O, that nobler life on high,
To which my hopes aspire!
Does it not prompt the frequent sigh,
And wake the warm desire?

When now and then a heavenly ray
Attracts my upward view,
Almost I hail the approach of day,
And bid the world adieu.

Those happy realms of joy and peace
Fain would my heart explore,
Where grief and pain for ever cease,
And I shall sin no more.

No darkness there shall cloud the eyes,
No languor seize the frame;
But ever active vigor rise
To feed the vital flame.

But ah!—a dreary vale between
Extends its awful gloom;
Fear spreads, to hide the distant scene,
The horrors of the tomb.

The thoughts of death's envenom'd dart,
The parting pangs I fear,
Alarm this timorous, fainting heart,
And still it lingers here.

O for the eye of faith divine,
To pierce beyond the grave!
To see that friend, and call him mine,
Whose arm is strong to save!

That friend who left his throne above,
Who met the tyrant's dart,
And (O, amazing power of love!)
Receiv'd it in his heart.

Here fix my soul, for life is here,
Light breaks amid the gloom;
Trust in the Saviour's love, nor fear
The horrors of the tomb.

Jesus, in thee alone I trust,
O tell me I am thine!
I yield this mortal frame to dust,
Eternal life is mine.

Desiring a firmer affiance in God under afflictions.

Why is my heart with grief opprest?
Can all the pains I feel or fear,
Make thee, my soul, forget thy rest,
Forget that God, thy God is near?

Hast thou not often call'd the Lord
Thy refuge, thy almighty friend?
And canst thou fear to trust that word
On which thy hopes of heaven depend?

Mortality's unnumber'd ills
Are all beneath his sovereign hand;
Each pain which this frail body feels
Attends, obedient, his command.

Lord, form my temper to thy will!
If thou my faith and patience prove,
May every painful stroke fulfill
Thy purposes of faithful love.

O may this weak, this fainting mind,
A father's hand adoring see;
Confess thee just, and wise, and kind,
And trust thy word and cleave to thee.

Trusting in his mercy with humble submission and hope.

Indulgent still to my request,
How free thy tender mercies are!
With full consent my thoughts attest,
My gracious God, thy faithful care.

The hand that holds the rod I see;
That gentle hand I must adore;
That goodness, how divinely free,
Which my expectant hopes implore!

Thy hand sustains me lest I faint,
Or at the needful stroke repine;
Thy ear attends to my complaint;
The tenderest pity, Lord, is thine.

And can my heart desire in vain,
When he who chastens bids me sue,
That every sorrow, every pain
Be blest to teach, reclaim, renew?

O yet support thy feeble child,
Till thy correcting hand remove!
Be all thy purposes fulfill'd,
And bid me sing thy sparing love.

Intreating the presence of God in affliction.

Low at thy gracious feet I bend,
My God, my everlasting friend,
Permit the claim, O let thy ear
My humble suit indulgent hear!

No earthly good my wish inspires;
Great is the boon my soul desires,
But thou hast bid me seek thy face,
Hast bid me ask thy promis'd grace.

O may thy favour (bliss divine!)
With fuller, clearer radiance shine!
Brighten my hopes, dispel my fears,
Till not a cloud of grief appears!

But O my heart, reflect with shame,
Canst thou prefer so bold a claim?
Conscious how often thou hast stray'd,
By empty vanities betray'd.

How oft, ungrateful to thy God,
Have trifles call'd thy thoughts abroad;
Till heavenly pity saw thee roam,
And bade affliction bring thee home.

And when the snares of earth were broke
By kind affliction's needful stroke,
Hast thou not own'd, with humble praise,
That just and right are all his ways?

Yes, gracious God, before thy throne
My vileness, and thy love I own;
O let that love with beams divine,
Forgiving, healing, round me shine!

Whene'er, ungrateful to my God,
This heedless heart requires the rod,
Thy arm, supporting, I implore,
The hand that chastens can restore.

O may the kind correction prove
A fruit of thy paternal love!
Wean me from earth, from sin resine,
And make my heart entirely thine!

Then shall my thankful powers rejoice,
And wake to praise this feeble voice:
While mercy, power, and truth employ
My love, my wonder, and my joy.

Acknowledging his goodness in supporting and restoring.

Now to thy heavenly Father's praise,
My heart thy tribute bring:
That goodness which prolongs my days
With grateful pleasure sing.

Ye humble souls, who love the Lord,
Come join the pleasing theme;
His mercy, power, and truth record
And bless his glorious name.

Whene'er he sends afflicting pains,
His mercy holds the rod;
His powerful word the heart sustains,
And speaks a faithful God.

A faithful God is ever nigh
When humble grief implores;
His ear attends each plaintive sigh,
He pities and restores.

No more let diffidence prevail
Our comforts to destroy:
His tender mercies never fail,
Be these our sweet employ.

Ah! how unequal to the theme
Our feeble efforts prove!
Ye heavens resound his glorious name,
While we adore and love.

Yet fain my grateful soul would bring
Her tribute to thy throne;
Accept the wish, my God, my King,
To make thy goodness known!

O be the life thy hand restores
Devoted to thy praise!
To thee, be sacred all my powers,
To thee, my future days!

Thy soul-enlivening grace impart,
A warmer love inspire;
And teach the breathings of my heart
Dependance and desire.

Desiring to praise God for the experience of his goodness.

[_]

Psalm xxxvi. 7.

The loving kindness of the Lord,
(Delightful theme!) demands my lays:
Thou, worthy to be lov'd, ador'd,
O teach my heart to sing thy praise!

In vain my heart with pleasure tries,
My God, to count thy mercies o'er;
So numerous and so bright they rise,
I gaze, I wonder, I adore!

Yet, all the powers I have are thine,
For thee, those powers I would employ;
And dedicate to love divine,
With humble gratitude and joy.

The sweet experience of thy grace
Which animates my voice to sing;
Incites my soul to seek thy face,
And trust the shelter of thy wing.

Thy guardian wing alone can bless:
I find repose and safety there;
The kindest refuge of distress
A sure relief in every care.

O let the wretched sons of woe
To thee apply, on thee depend:
And bid the drooping mourners know
In thee a never-failing friend.

Could e'er one soul in deep distress
That fled to thee for refuge say,
“Indulgent mercy would not bless,
“And justice frown'd my hopes away?”

Ah no, a thousand, thousand tongues
Thy love and truth, adoring own,
And offer their united songs
With grateful joy before thy throne.

Not e'en those happy minds can trace,
With all their powers renew'd, refin'd,
The boundless glories of thy grace,
O thou omnipotently kind!

Ah how shall these poor languid powers
With frail mortality opprest,
Display the grace my soul adores?
How speak the transports of the blest?

Dear Lord, accept my heart's desire,
Till death shall close these mortal days!
Then bid me join the heavenly choir,
And sing thy everlasting praise!

Penitence and Hope.

Dear Saviour, when my thoughts recall
The wonders of thy grace;
Low at thy feet asham'd I fall,
And hide this wretched face.

Shall love like thine be thus repaid?
Ah vile, ungrateful heart!
By earth's low cares detain'd, betray'd,
From Jesus to depart.

From Jesus, who alone can give
True pleasure, peace, and rest:
When absent from my Lord, I live
Unsatisfy'd, unblest.

But he, for his own mercy's sake,
My wandering soul restores:
He bids the mourning heart partake
The pardon it implores.

O, while I breathe to thee, my Lord,
The penitential sigh,
Confirm the kind, forgiving word
With pity in thine eye!

Then shall the mourner at thy feet,
Rejoice to seek thy face;
And grateful own how kind! how sweet!
Thy condescending grace.

Devoting the heart to Jesus.

Jesus, what shall I do to show
How much I love thy glorious name?
Let my whole heart with rapture glow
Thy boundless goodness to proclaim.

Yes, dearest Lord, my heart is thine,
Sacred to thee be all its powers!
O bid me give to love divine
The little remnant of my hours!

Thou narrow heart, ye fleeting hours,
How mean the tribute you can raise!
The grace my thankful soul adores,
Claims an eternity of praise!

Lord, if a distant glimpse of thee
Can give such sweet, such rich delight;
What must their joy, their transport be
Who dwell for ever in thy sight?

To that bright world my heart aspires,
Where all the glories of thy face
Unveil'd, shall fill the soul's desires,
And tune the song to boundless grace!

O teach my heart, my life, my voice
To celebrate thy wonderous love!
Fulfil my hopes, compleat my joys,
And bid me join the songs above.

The love of Christ exciting thankful devotion.

O dearer to my thankful heart
Than all the circling sun surveys!
Thy presence only can impart
Light, peace, and gladness to my days.

Beneath thy soul-reviving ray,
Ev'n cold affliction's wintery gloom
Shall brighten into vernal day,
And hopes and joys immortal bloom.

Vain world, be gone with all thy toys;
I have no room for trifles here:
My heart aspires to nobler joys;
Thy fairest glories disappear.

Bright realms of bliss, where Jesus reigns,
My wish, my care, my hope invite:
Where raptur'd seraphs tune their strains
To themes of infinite delight.

See, Lord, thy willing subject bows
Adoring low before thy throne:
To thee, I gladly pay my vows;
Thou art my sovereign, thou alone.

Smile on my soul, and bid me sing,
In concert with the choir above,
The glories of my Saviour King,
The condescensions of his love.

Amazing love! that stoop'd so low,
To view with pity's melting eye
A wretch deserving endless woe!
Amazing love!—did Jesus die?—

He died, to raise to life and joy
The vile, the guilty, the undone,
O let his praise my hours employ,
Till hours no more their circles run!

He died!—ye seraphs tune your songs,
Resound, resound the Saviour's name:
For nought below immortal tongues
Can ever reach the wonderous theme.

On recovery from sickness.

Lord of my life to thee my powers belong,
Thy mercies are my chief my darling theme;
To thee be first inscrib'd the votive song
With warmest gratitude, with love supreme;
On thee my life and all its powers depend,
My gracious guardian, my unchanging friend.

O be that life, which thy indulgent hand
Sustain'd when sinking to the shades of death,
Devoted to thy praise, whose kind command
Restores my wasting strength and shortening breath.
Be my remaining hours entirely thine,
My strength and breath employ'd in work divine.

Yet next to heaven to friendship's honour'd name
The lay which grateful love inspires is due;
With lenient hand she nurs'd the vital flame,
When faintly glimmering it almost withdrew:
Heaven smil'd indulgent on her tender care,
Blest were her efforts, answer'd was her prayer.

The lay which friendship claims heaven will approve,
Since first to heaven the grateful strains aspire:
Sacred to filial and fraternal love,
Be the next labours of the tuneful lyre.
O may the love that animates my lay
Procure acceptance for the thanks I pay.

But never can these languid notes express
My heart's warm wishes ardent as they rise;
Yet he, who knows their meaning, he can bless;
Unmeasur'd bounty every good supplies.
O be the friends who claim my grateful love,
A blessing here, compleatly blest above.

Occasioned by hearing a friend commend my verses.

Could all the powers of eloquence divine
But half the glories of my Lord display,
How I should wish those unknown powers were mine
To animate and raise the votive lay.

O could I rise, one happy minute rise!
And hear the music of the blissful choir,
Would not my heaven-enraptur'd mind despise
The sweetest notes that tune this feeble lyre.

Yet is the subject of their song the same,
Not angels know a nobler theme than mine;
Thy grace Emmanuel, bliss-inspiring name!
Awakes the strain to extasy divine.

That grace, which smiles approving on their lays,
Bends lower still and kindly deigns to own
A mortal's wishes to attempt thy praise,
When humble love presents them at thy throne.

My Lord, my life, does not thy love inspire
The warmest highest wish this bosom knows?
O let that love employ this feeble lyre
Till with diviner force the passion glows!

Till (every mortal weakness left in dust)
Immortal life commences, then my tongue
To thee, dear object of my hope and trust,
With heaven's full choir shall tune a nobler song.

To Silvia.

My lovely Silvia, while in blooming youth
Your mental powers are active, sprightly, gay,
Attend the voice of friendship and of truth,
That courts your notice in the moral lay.

Those active powers the Lord of nature gave
To reason's rule by choice alone confin'd,
For reason's empire never knew a slave,
Her sway is gentle and her laws are kind.

Her subjects take their orders from her eye,
While she to each their various task assigns;
And now o'er nature's ample field they fly,
A field far richer than Peruvian mines.

Here with unweary'd diligence they rove,
Collecting treasures to enrich the mind:
And many a flower and plant in dale or grove,
Of virtues rare and fadeless bloom they find.

And now with treasures fraught returning home,
Before their queen display the shining spoil,
Arrang'd in beauteous order round the dome,
Her approbation crowns the pleasing toil.

When chill'd by time's cold hand, those sprightly powers
Inclin'd to rest, inactive, cease to roam,
Those mental stores shall cheer the wintery hours,
And flowers unfading breathe their sweets at home.

Extracting food amid the vernal bloom,
So flies the industrious bee around the vale,
With native skill she forms the waxen comb,
To keep for wintery days the rich regale.

Wishing for real Pleasure.

How long, forgetful of thy heavenly birth,
Wilt thou my soul so fondly cleave to earth?
How long low-hovering o'er these seats of pain,
Wilt thou expect felicity in vain?
The joys of time could never be design'd
A portion worthy of the immortal mind.
What is it thus detains these wretched eyes,
Detains my heart whene'er it seeks to rise,
And holds back half my wishes from the skies?

When soothing fancy paints, with mimic art,
Her pictur'd joys to catch my cheated heart,
So fair, so bright the varied colours glow,
Almost they can disguise the blended woe.
But soon the momentary forms decay,
Steal from my gaze, and vanish quite away.
Convinc'd the flattering scenes are empty air,
Beneath my thought unworthy of my care,
Can I pronounce the gay delusions fair?

Earth's fairest pleasures which allure my sight,
Are but the fleeting shadows of delight!
Shall airy phantoms thus my powers employ,
Powers that were form'd to grasp substantial joy?
Shall vanity enslave this freeborn mind,
And chains of sense my nobler passions bind?
Alas in vain I strive, in vain I sigh,
In vain my fetter'd thoughts attempt to fly
And weakly fluttering mean the distant sky!

O thou whose eye surveys my inmost heart,
Thy grace, thy all prevailing grace impart,
Dissolve these chains which keep my soul from thee,
And bid this wretched struggling heart be free.
O come thou bright, thou everlasting fair,
Thou only worthy object of my care!
Thy dazling beauties to my view display,
And earth shall vanish at the blissful ray,
Like night's dark shades before the rising day.

Immortal charms shall all my powers controul,
And fix each wandering passion of my soul,
Thy love the sacred source of endless joy
Shall all my heart and all my thoughts employ.
Earth would be heaven in such a state as this,
And time a foretaste of eternal bliss.

But ah! how soon the charming vision flies!
Stay blest ideas, teach my soul to rise,
Nor let me wish in vain for heaven below the skies!

To Amira.

Friendship disdains the studied forms of speech,
She speaks a language forms can never teach.
Let friendship to Amira's thought impart
The grateful joy that warms a sister's heart.
O may the grateful joy aspire in praise,
And love divine the sacred ardour raise;
To him whose ear our humble prayer attends,
Whose mercy spares Amira to her friends!
To them the boon indulgent mercy gives;
Not for herself alone Amira lives.

Long be your life preserv'd, long may you share
Your partner's comforts, and partake his care!
By heaven instructed, may you know to raise
Your infant offspring to their maker's praise!
To you is the maternal task assign'd,

To form with gentle hand the tender mind:
To plant the seeds of moral goodness there,
To watch, to cherish with assiduous care
The growth of every virtue, (pleasing toil!)
On the kind task may heaven approving smile!
That smile alone can animate, can bless,
And crown your labour with desir'd success.

To me hath providence assign'd a part
Which claim the tenderest passions of the heart,
No less than yours: to sooth a parent's care
In life's decline, his every grief to share,
By every act of cheerful duty prove
Sincerest gratitude and filial love.
O long, (propitious to my ardent prayer,)
To me, to you may heaven indulgent spare
His valued life! and when we must, must part,
Sustain the sad survivor's fainting heart!
Before the mental eye may he display
A blissful prospect of the realms of day,
Whose presence cheers affliction's deepest gloom,
And sheds a ray of glory on the tomb!
While faith beholds her dying, rising Lord,
And cheerful hope reclines upon his word.
O be that word confirm'd to you, to me,
“Where Jesus is, there shall his servants be!”
Then shall our thoughts that happy world explore,
Where we shall meet our friends to part no more.

Think not these lines (my dear Amira) fraught
With the dark boadings of dejected thought:
Since nought but prospects future and divine,
Life's toils can cheer, its pleasures can refine.
Yet heaven, on us, shines with indulgent ray,
And with peculiar blessings marks our way.
Why are our steps by sovereign goodness led,
Far from the thorny wilds where many tread?
Nor with dark care, nor pining want opprest,
Why with a thousand comforts are we blest?
Our lives protected from a thousand woes?
O why the various gifts which heaven bestows?
Its various gifts should stimulate, should raise
To active duty, to obedient praise.
True we are weak, but do we not depend
On the kind arm of an almighty friend?
That arm invigorates, directs, sustains,
And gives sweet hope to soften all our pains:
Sweet hope, that whispers to the humble mind,
“Look up, the ever wise, the ever kind
“Is near you still, attentive to your prayer,
“Proportions every trial, every care
“To suit the strength he gives, he will impart
“Celestial comforts, to sustain your heart.
“Behold! display'd to faith's expecting eye,
“A crown reserv'd for you beyond the sky:
“Treasures of bliss which never can decay
“And realms resplendent with eternal day.”

If faith and hope, fix'd on the word divine,
Pronounce the bright reversion yours, and mine,
O my Amira this is bliss below,
The highest bliss which mortals here can know.

A Reflection on the close of the Year,

Occasioned by hearing the bells at midnight.

Is this a theme of mirth? who can rejoice
That time, important time so swiftly flies;
And scorn reflection's monitory voice,
The friendly power that wooes us to be wise?

For ever ye departed months, adieu!
What heart that knows your value can be gay?
What heart that asks reflection's conscious view,
How many hours fled unimprov'd away?

Yet oft her warning voice, e'er yet they past,
Cry'd, “seize the precious minutes make them thine:
Ah how wilt thou account for so much waste
Of treasure lent for purposes divine?

O let my heart her needful dictates hear,
To her the solemn midnight hour I give,
And ask, while musing on the finish'd year,
How I have spent the time, and why I live?

How have I spent the time? reflection say?
She answers “wasted many a precious hour,
“In careless indolence lost many a day,
“When heaven demanded every active power.

Why do I live? “Past errors to deplore,
“Low at the feet of sovereign grace to bow,
“For strength divine intreat (while I adore,)
“To dedicate to heaven the fleeting now.

Jesus, to thee, to thy atoning blood,
To thy unsully'd righteousness I fly:
O thou, my judge, my saviour, and my God,
Instruct me how to live and how to die.

Desiring a cheerful Resignation to the Divine Will.

Why breathes my anxious heart the frequent sigh?
Why from my weak eye drops the ready tear?
Is it to mark how present blessings fly?
Is it that griefs to come awake my fear?

O may I still with thankful heart enjoy
The various gifts indulgent heaven bestows!
Nor let ungrateful diffidence destroy
The present good with fears of future woes.

Nor let me curious ask if dark or fair
My future hours, but in the hand divine
With full affiance leave my every care,
Be hope, and humble resignation mine.

Celestial guests! your smile can cheer the heart
When melancholy spreads her deepening gloom:
O come, your animating power impart,
And bid sweet flowers amid the desart bloom.

Yes, here and there, amid the dreary wild,
A spot of verdure cheers the languid eye:
And now and then, a sun-beam warm and mild,
Sheds its kind influence from a clement sky.

My God, my guide, be thou for ever near,
Support my steps, point out my devious way,
Preserve my heart from every anxious fear,
Gild each dark scene with thy enlivening ray.

Be earth's quick changing scenes or dark, or fair,
On thy kind arm, O bid my soul recline:
Be heaven-born hope (kind antidote of care)
And humble cheerful resignation mine.

To Silvia.

Come friendship, with thy sweetly-pleasing power,
Teach me to calm my dear-lov'd Silvia's breast:
Shed thy kind influence o'er the gloomy hour,
And sooth her every anxious care to rest.

Tell her that providence, immensely kind,
Through all events its guardian care extends;
Nor can a real grief oppress her mind
But ev'n that grief unerring wisdom sends.

Oft, when imaginary woes oppress,
A dark cloud rises, and we shrink with fear;
Perhaps that very cloud is meant to bless,
And shed rich comforts on the coming year.

The ways of providence, how kind! how wise!
From seeming ills what real good is born!
Nor can the heart its blessings learn to prize
That, gay and thoughtless, never knew to mourn.

O may my Silvia raise her wishes high!
With warm devotion may her bosom glow!
Pant for unmingled bliss beyond the sky
And thankful own the gifts enjoy'd below!

To Emilia.

If native sense, and unaffected ease,
Good nature and benevolence can please;
Emilia claims, without the help of art,
Her share of friendship in the social heart.
But real friendship should not, must not bear
A fault uncensur'd in a mind so fair:
Let censure in her gentlest form persuade,
Nor frown indignant on the lovely maid:
And let Emilia unoffended hear,
While friendship softly thus accosts her ear.

My dear Emilia, would you always know
The peaceful joys which virtue can bestow:
Those joys from grave reflection have their birth,
Begun by heaven, nor terminate on earth.
Then be reflection cherish'd in your breast,
She gives you counsel needful to your rest.
When gay amusement spreads her net for hearts
And softly wooes you with her syren arts;
Has not reflection whisper'd?—“Ah beware
“Fly, fly the midnight ball—mirth revels there,

100

“With dissipation and her idle train;
“A thousand follies fluttering, light and vain:
“The unmeaning compliment, the study'd smile,
“The sneer of malice, the smooth brow of guile,
“Mix in the dance, and should detraction rude,
“Remorseless, arm'd with venom'd darts intrude,
“(Vile foe to virtue, and to honest fame)
“Then bleeds some hapless virgin's wounded name.
“Fly, fly the danger, and with me retreat
“Where innocence, and peace, and safety meet.”

And did the friendly monitor in vain
Dissuade Emilia from the dangerous scene?
Where was her guardian angel? could he bear
To be confin'd in such polluted air?
Or did the gentle spirit, with a sigh,
Resign his charge and seek his native sky?
Vain questions! His omniscient eye was there,
Who trusted time's rich talent to your care;
And he requires improvement at your hands,
A strict account his holy law demands.
O, squander not the precious hours away,
No more in such amusements close a day,
As will not bear reflection's sober test,
Nor add calm pleasure to your nightly rest.

While your almighty benefactor pours
His various blessings on your circling hours;

101

For all the gifts his bounteous hands impart
He claims the tribute of a thankful heart:
O be your sprightly powers your blooming days
With grateful joy devoted to his praise.

Think in that awful, that tremendous hour,
When earth's alluring toys will please no more,
When trembling, on life's utmost verge you tread,
With vast eternity before you spread;
Think, what will be your wish, your ardent prayer,
And make it now your first, your constant care.
To that almighty Saviour now apply,
On whom alone you safely can rely:
Whose smile can cheer you in that awful scene,
And make the boundless prospect all serene.

Let not my dear Emilia call severe,
The friendly dictates of a heart sincere:
A heart that wishes real bliss for you
Beyond this narrow world's contracted view.
O may you, taught by grace divine, aspire
(With all the ardour of sincere desire)
To that bright world, where pleasure dwells refin'd,
To charm, to fix, to satisfy the mind;
Till joyful, you from earth's allurements part,
And heaven that claims, possesses all your heart.

102

To Silvia.

How faint the joy the blooming season yields,
To spirits worn with grief and nerves unstrung!
Yet sweet the flowers, yet verdant are the fields,
As when those flowers and fields I raptur'd sung.

Around me nature spreads her charms in vain,
Those charms no more my languid breast inspire:
In vain I try to raise one cheerful strain,
No sound of joy awakes the silent lyre.

Come Silvia, come, for you the muses wait,
For you the flowers unfold their beauteous dyes:
O come, with lively youth and health replete,
And bid to heaven the grateful transport rise.

Methinks in Silvia I revive again,
And led by fancy's magic power, I stray
O'er the green corn field and the flowery plain,
And call the birds to join the artless lay.

103

Yes, in my Silvia I again enjoy
Those long-lost pleasures oft with sighs deplor'd:
Come then, dear maid, resume the sweet employ,
And tune the votive song to nature's bounteous Lord.

Retirement.

Hail peaceful retirement, thy shades how serene!
With thee in all ages the wise have sought pleasure,
Meditation and converse the sweet varied scene
Alternately measure.

Here freely expatiate the rational powers,
Thy aid, O divine contemplation, inspiring;
While wisdom and knowledge unlock their bright stores,
The mind still desiring.

Ye votaries of pleasure, of grandeur and fame,
Leave your eager pursuit of the shadows before ye;
Seek peaceful retirement, where more than in name
Dwell pleasure and glory.

104

'Tis here, when content from the seats of delight
Descends, to give mortals a blest prelibation
Of permanent pleasure and joys ever bright,
She fixes her station.

Sweet guest of retirement, O come to my breast!
I can pity the minds which deluded pursuing
Their phantoms gay-smiling, refuse to be blest
And choose their undoing.

On the sudden death of a libertine.

Addressed to his Friend.

By lawless pleasure led, whose syren song
Had sooth'd to rest the faithful monitor
That would, long since, have warn'd them to beware,
Lorenzo and his gay companion stray'd:
Till to a dangerous eminence they rose,
Whose fatal brow o'erhangs a dark, deep gulph,
Where tempest reigns, and night eternal frowns.
Here guilty riot drove the hours along;
Reflection banish'd, reason's dictates scorn'd:
Tho' oft the voice of friendship call'd, return;

105

And oft maternal tenderness implor'd:
In vain was every warning—plung'd in vice
They bade defiance to the censuring world,
And boldly dar'd the vengeance of the skies;
Nor dar'd unpunish'd long—for now they drew
Too near the dreadful brink, nor dream'd of ought
But flowery pleasures; round them hung a cloud,
Spread by some demon, which confin'd their view,
And hid the terrors of the gulph below.
Here as they laughing stood, swift flew the shaft
Of awful vengeance!—O! Lorenzo say?
What were thy thoughts when instant from thy side,
The gay companion of thy guilty hours
Plung'd headlong in the unfathomable deep?—
And art thou spar'd? and will astonishment
And terror let thee ask, “why am I spar'd?
“Why did the fatal shaft that pierc'd my friend
“Not reach this guilty bosom?” Mercy spread
Her shield before thee—Hark! she calls—“Retreat,
“Retreat this instant, e'er commission'd flies
“A second arrow—heaven may not vouchsafe
“Another warning.”—May her heavenly voice,
Lorenzo, reach thy heart! In time reflect
While time is lent, and humbly deprecate
The awful vengeance of offended heaven!
Fly to that Saviour, whose atoning blood
Alone can expiate guilt, whose boundless grace

106

Alone can seal thy pardon, cleanse, renew
Thy wretched heart, and guide thy erring steps
Far from the paths of danger, where too long
Thy feet have stray'd, and point the narrow way
To peace, to safety, to eternal life.

To my Watch.

Little Monitor, by thee
Let me learn what I should be:
Learn the round of life to fill,
Useful and progressive still.
Thou canst gentle hints impart
How to regulate the heart:
When I wind thee up at night,
Mark each fault, and set thee right:
Let me search my bosom too,
And my daily thoughts review;
Mark the movements of my mind,
Nor be easy when I find
Latent errors rise to view,
Till all be regular and true.

107

The third chapter of Daniel paraphrased.

Where Babylon, the seat of empire, shone,
Proud tyranny had fix'd her lawless throne,
The cruel power, with unrelenting hand,
Rul'd o'er a race of slaves, an abject land:
Oppression fill'd the arbitrary reign,
And blind idolatry confirm'd the chain.

The prince, who late in a surprizing hour,
Had felt conviction's strong, resistless power,
Impell'd by conscience, own'd the God supreme;
Confess'd his hand, almost ador'd his name;
Retracting all, to idol-gods returns,
Again with impious zeal his bosom burns.
New rites his wild idolatry demands,
In Dura's plain a golden image stands:
Wanton in wealth, he bids the idol rise,
And with its monstrous height affront the skies.
Assembled here in all the pomp of state,
Princes and peers their monarch's pleasure wait:
A herald now with sounding voice proclaims,
“Nations of various tongues of various names,

108

“Attend the king's decree, which thus ordains,
“That instant, when you hear the sacred strains
“From instruments of every tuneful sound,
“Adore with prostrate homage on the ground,
“The golden image, which the king's command
“Ordains the God, the guardian of your land.
“Whoe'er the royal edict disobeys,
“Or to perform the solemn rite delays,
“A dreadful doom the hapless wretch attends,
“His life, that hour, the flaming furnace ends.”

Now sounds the various strain; the solemn call
The trembling nations hear, and prostrate fall.
Elate with pride the monarch now beheld
His will obey'd, the impious rite fulfill'd:
When lo with flattering zeal his slaves appear,
And lowly bending thus accost his ear;
“O King, for ever may thy throne remain!
“Unrivall'd be the glories of thy reign!
“Their zeal when all thy faithful people show'd
“And at the sacred call adoring bow'd;
“Three haughty Jews whom thy indulgent hand
“Hath rais'd to rank and honours in the land,
“Thy bounty have ungratefully abus'd,
“And just obedience to thy law refus'd:
“Proudly refus'd to bend the stubborn knee,
“And bade defiance to thy gods and thee.”

109

Rage, flash'd vindictive from the tyrant's eyes!
“This moment bring the rebels here” he cries;
Swift fly the guards, their duty taught by fear,
And now the accused innocents appear:
When thus the king the boding silence broke,
(His aw'd attendants trembling as he spoke)
“Say, ye perverse, rebellious wretches say,
“My will do you presume to disobey?
“You knew the law, the penalty you heard;
“Your fate is just since wilfully you err'd;
“Nor vainly on celestial aid presume;
“What God shall save, when I pronounce your doom?
The men, to this high strain of impious pride,
Serene in conscious innocence reply'd;
“At no defence, at no excuse we aim,
“Our trust, O king, is in the power supreme:
“The God, the awful God whom we adore
“We know can save us from thy tyrant power.
“We trust he will: but should his wise command
“Ordain our death by thy remorseless hand;
“A firm obedience to his laws we vow,
“Nor will to thy detested idols bow.”
To madness now the tyrant's passions rise:
“Seven times increase the flame” (he furious cries)
“Soon shall the traitors meet a fate severe,
“And feel that vengeance which they scorn to fear”

110

His hardy soldiers now the victims seize,
(Strange heart that such a sacrifice could please!)
The victims bound are to their fate convey'd,
Plung'd in the flames, depriv'd of mortal aid:
Fierce was the king, and fierce the raging fire,
The soldiers in the cruel act expire.
In view the tyrant sate to feast his eyes
(Inhuman pleasure! horrid sacrifice!)
When sudden starting from his seat, he cries,
(Amazement in his looks, and wild dismay,)
“What do I see? ye peers, ye princes say!
“Were not three criminals, some moments past,
“With fetters bound, in yonder furnace cast?
“'Tis certain fact, O king, (the courtiers said)
“We all beheld thy royal will obey'd:”
When thus the king, (with inward anguish prest,
For full conviction now his heart possest)
“Amid the flames they walk, unhurt and free,
“And lo a fourth of form divine I see!
“Some angel makes the innocents his care,
“Perhaps their deity himself is there.
The humbled monarch now renounc'd his pride
And near advancing to the furnace cry'd
“Come forth, ye servants of the God supreme,
“Come forth, and teach me to adore his name.”
Forth came the prisoners at the royal word,
Sav'd by the power they trusted and ador'd:

111

Not ev'n their cloaths were scorch'd, nor sing'd their hair,
Serene their looks, and cheerful was their air.

The strange event around the country flew;
The concourse, still increasing, round them drew,
Peers, princes, people, gazing, wondering stand,
Compell'd to witness an almighty hand.
An aw'd attention bade the croud be still,
While thus the King aloud declar'd his will:
“Ador'd for ever be his wonderous name!
“Who sav'd his servants from the raging flame;
“His angels sent (the heavenly form I saw,)
“To guard these blest observers of his law:
“The awful power, omnipotent and just,
“Hath well rewarded their religious trust.
“Be this decree, in honour to their God,
“Through my extensive empire sent abroad:
“Whoever dares his sacred name prophane,
“In impious folly arrogantly vain;
“Death without mercy is the wretches lot,
“His house a dunghill made, his name forgot,
“This miracle which strikes each wondering breast
“And which a thousand witnesses attest,
“Proclaims the God superior far in power
“To all the deities whom we adore.

Here ceas'd the king: yet farther to atone
The cruel act his impious rage had done,

112

The heaven-protected youths his favour shar'd,
Of faithful piety the just reward:
To eminence and power he bade them rise,
Rever'd by men, as favour'd of the skies.

Messiah, an Ode.

[_]

From the 35th Chapter of Isaiah,

I.

Messiah comes! glad nature hails
Her long-expected king:
She wakes to praise her every tongue,
Wakes every note to raise the song,
Joy, universal joy prevails,
Earth blooms with sudden spring.
Messiah comes! the hills resound,
The wide-extended vales around,
Messiah comes! in tuneful notes reply.
Attentive echo learns his name,
Repeats the pleasurable theme,
And bears the joyful accents to the sky.

113

II.

The desart through her vast domain,
Hears, and wonders at the strain,
The strain, her hard, cold bosom warms;
She sees, and wonders at her new-born charms;
While indulgent plenty pours
Gifts profuse, and fruits, and flowers
With various beauty glow:
Pining travellers no more
With weary feet, and longing eyes,
Now the thorny brake explore,
Or the sandy waste in vain;
See, the bubbling fountain rise!
See, the copious river flow!
Adieu thirst, weariness, and pain,
The cheerless desart owns Messiah's reign.
With Lebanon's tall shades the desart vies,
And verdure cloaths the grove, and decks the vale;
Here fragrant Carmel's flowery beauties rise,
And Sharon breathes the aromatic gale.

III.

Messiah comes! let every heart be glad,
Let sounds of joy be heard from every voice;
With power, with majesty, with glory clad,
He comes to bid the sons of woe rejoice.
No more the hopeless heart shall languish
On the confines of despair;

114

No more be heard the groan of anguish,
Or be felt the pang of care.
Ye sons of woe, resign your load,
Ye trembling hearts be strong;
Omnipotence
Is your defence:
Behold your King, your Saviour God!
He comes, with vengeance on his arm,
In vain your threatening foes alarm;
Forget your fear,
Salvation near
Demands the grateful song:
His arm shall crush your threatening foes to dust,
An awful recompense, divinely just!

IV.

See, the eyelids of the blind
Open to the heavenly ray!
See the prospect bright and new
Rise to the astonish'd view,
Boundless wonder fills the mind,
All is transport! all is day!
The hapless ear, of social bliss unknowing,
Receives the healing music of his voice:
Celestial harmony, soft, sweetly flowing,
Bids charm'd attention listen and rejoice.

115

V.

See, the helpless cripple rise,
Bounding like the mountain roe!
If nature's Lord
Pronounce the word,
New strength, that word supplies;
Life's active flame
Informs the frame,
And bids each nerve with native vigor glow.
The tongue that never could reveal
Heart-felt woe, or pleasure tell,
Held in the chains of mournful silence long;
Now bursts the chains at his command,
Aloud proclaims Messiah's hand,
And raptur'd joins the universal song!

VI.

Join the universal song,
Every heart and every tongue!
Spread all your wings, ye winds and bear
The blest glad tidings through the air,
To earth's remotest plains:
Let every mournful scene be gay,
Let every gloomy night be day;
Nature raise thy various choir,
Wake the voice, and wake the lyre,
To extasy attune the joyful strains,
Resound Messiah comes! Messiah reigns!

116

VII.

Messiah reigns, the Prince of peace!
He came to save, he reigns to bless!
Fell rage, and terror now shall cease,
And amity, and love divine
With wide-diffusive lustre shine:
Auspicious Æra, hail! replete with joy!
No more the frighted pilgrim flies
The baleful haunts where serpents rise,
No serpents now his trembling steps annoy:
O'er scorching sands no more he pants, and toils,
Now cool streams murmur, blooming verdure smiles.

VIII.

No more the furious Lion waits
To rush upon his helpless prey:
Danger dies, and fear retreats;
Messiah (great Protector) guards the way.
The sacred way Messiah shews,
Work of wisdom, work of power!
But hence, unhallow'd feet, begone,
Banish'd all Messiah's foes:
Humble travellers alone,
Who the King of Zion own,
Claim his protection, and his grace adore:
O'er all their steps his watchful care presides;
Nor fools shall err, for heavenly wisdom guides.

117

IX.

Here shall the ransom'd of the Lord
Forget their former care;
And while they sing, with sweet accord
In heaven-taught lays
Messiah's praise;
From his kind hand a thousand blessings share.
His hand shall lead them to the courts divine,
Where his full beams of love for ever shine,
Nor the least cloud of sorrow can appear.
Happy state! where not a sigh
Heaves the bosom, nor the eye
That used to weep shall ever know a tear!
Celestial joy for ever sheds
Her balmy odours on their heads;
Every heart, and every tongue
Feels the bliss, and joins the song,
Immortal rapture tunes the heavenly strain;
The mind expanding, fill'd, adoring,
With ever new delight exploring
The boundless glories of Messiah's reign.

118

The Blind Man's Petition.

[_]

Luke xviii. 38, &c. Jesus thou Son of David have mercy on me, &c.

Great Saviour, born of David's race,
O look, with pity look this way!
A helpless wretch implores thy grace,
Implores thy mercy's healing ray!

Jesus, thou Lord of life divine,
To whom the sons of woe complain:
Is not unbounded mercy thine?
And can I ask, and ask in vain?

Did ever supplicating sigh
In vain to thee its grief impart?
Or mournful object meet thine eye,
That did not move thy melting heart?

119

Around thee crowd a plaintive throng,
I hear their importuning cries;
And now from every thankful tongue
I hear the glad Hosannah rise.

O look, with pity look on me,
Wrapt in the mournful shades of night!
My hope depends alone on thee,
Speak Lord, thy word shall give me light!

'Tis mercy, mercy I implore!
Speak, Lord, thy humble suppliant raise!
Then shall my heart thy grace adore;
Then shall my tongue resound thy praise.

Rest and Comfort in Christ alone.

Where shall I fly but to thy feet,
My Saviour, my almighty friend?
Dear names, beyond expression sweet!
On these my hopes of Bliss depend.

120

Where shall I rest but on thy grace,
Thy boundless grace divinely free?
On earth I find no resting place;
Dear Saviour, bid me come to thee!

Though sin detains me from my Lord,
I long, I languish to be blest:
O speak one soul reviving word,
And bid me come to thee, my rest.

When I this wretched heart explore,
Here no kind source of hope appears;
But O my soul, that grace adore,
Free grace, which triumphs o'er my fears.

Jesus, from thy atoning blood,
My only consolation flows;
Hope beams from thee my Saviour God,
My soul no other refuge knows.

121

On the Fifth of November.

To thee, Almighty God, we bring
The humble tribute of our songs:
O teach our thankful hearts to sing!
Or praise will languish on our tongues.

While Britain (savour'd of the skies)
Recalls the wonders God hath wrought;
Let grateful joy adoring rise,
And warm to rapture every thought.

When hell and Rome combin'd their power,
And doom'd these isles their certain prey;
Thy hand forbade the fatal hour,
Their impious plots in ruin lay.

Again our restless cruel foes
Resum'd, avow'd, their black design;
Again to save us God arose,
And Britain own'd the hand divine.

122

Why, gracious God, is Britain sav'd?
Why blest with liberty and light?
Nor by fell tyranny enslav'd,
Nor lost in superstition's night?

Not for our sakes, we conscious own;
A wretched, vile, ungrateful race:
'Tis done to make thy glory known;
To shew the wonders of thy grace.

The wonders of thy grace compleat;
Reform this wretched, guilty land!
Let thankful love, beneath thy feet,
Confess thy kind, thy guardian hand!

Let every age adore thy name,
While nature's circling wheels shall roll!
Thy mercies every tongue proclaim,
And found thy praise from pole to pole,

123

On a day of prayer for success in War.

Lord, how shall wretched sinners dare
Look up to thy divine abode?
Or offer their imperfect prayer
Before a just, a holy God?

Bright terrors guard thy awful seat,
And dazling glories veil thy face!
Yet mercy calls us to thy feet,
Thy throne is still a throne of grace.

O may our souls thy grace adore,
May Jesus plead our humble claim;
While thy protection we implore,
In his prevailing, glorious name.

With all the boasted pomp of war
In vain we dare the hostile field:
In vain, unless the Lord be there;
Thy arm alone is Britain's shield.

124

Let past experience of thy care
Support our hope, our trust invite!
Again attend our humble prayer,
Again be mercy thy delight!

Our arms succeed, our councils guide,
Let thy right hand our cause maintain;
'Till war's destructive rage subside,
And peace resume her gentle reign.

O when shall time the period bring
When raging war shall waste no more;
When peace shall stretch her balmy wing
From Europe's coast to India's shore?

When shall the gospel's healing ray
(Kind source of amity divine!)
Spread o'er the world celestial day?
When shall the nations, Lord, be thine?

125

Hymn for a day of public thanksgiving for Peace.

Great God inspire each heart and tongue
Thy wonderous goodness to proclaim;
And bid the animating song
Glow with devotion's lively flame.
To thee let favour'd Britain raise
Her sweetest notes of thankful praise.

But where shall we begin to trace
The wonders of thy hand divine?
In every season, every place
How numerous and how bright they shine.
To God ye favour'd Britons raise
Your sweetest notes of thankful praise.

Abroad, protection and success
Proclaim'd that Britain's God was there;
At home, he bade fair plenty bless,
The fruitful fields confess'd his care;
To God ye favour'd Britons raise
Your sweet notes of thankful praise.

126

But yet beneath the hostile sword
Has many a worthy patriot bled,
And many a mourning heart deplor'd
A friend, a son, a brother dead!
The sword is sheath'd—ye Britons raise
To God your sweetest notes of praise.

The horrors of the sanguine field
Which sadden'd victory's fairest plume,
To scenes of pleasure now shall yield
And peace her gentle reign resume.
To God ye favour'd Britons raise
Your sweetest notes of thankful praise.

Kind peace, from her propitious smiles
What numerous, various blessings flow!
Great God, to thee these happy isles
Unnumber'd obligations owe.
To thee let favour'd Britain raise
Her sweetest notes of thankful praise.

Crown, gracious God, thy gift of peace
With gifts yet nobler, more divine!
O let thy all-prevailing grace
Make Britain more entirely thine!
Devotion then to thee shall raise
Sublimer notes of thankful praise.

127

To ------, on the death of her father.

Though nature's voice you must obey,
Think, while your swelling griefs o'erflow,
That hand, which takes your joys away,
That sovereign hand can heal your woe.

And while your mournful thoughts deplore
The father gone, remov'd the friend!
With heart resign'd, his grace adore,
On whom your nobler hopes depend.

Does he not bid his children rise
Through death's dark shades, to realms of light?
Yet, when he calls them to the skies,
Shall fond survivors mourn their flight?

His word (here let your soul rely)
Immortal consolation gives:
Your heavenly Father cannot die,
Jesus the friend, for ever lives.

128

O be that dearest friend your trust,
On his almighty arm recline;
He, when your comforts sink in dust,
Can give you blessings more divine.

To Myra.

Could these weak nerves, this trembling hand impart
The animated wish, the tender sigh
That pleases and that pains this throbbing heart,
Then friendship's form should meet thy mental eye.

Oh train'd to virtue in affliction's school,
Long since convinc'd what heaven ordains is best;
Still, still adhere to this unerring rule,
Be resignation still a welcome guest.

In suffering and in sentiment allied
What boon for Myra shall my wishes crave?
That gracious heaven would be her constant guide,
In grief support her and from danger save!

129

Oft through the gloomy shades of mortal night,
O may my friend enjoy a cheering ray
(Sweet emanation of sincere delight!)
From the fair regions of eternal day.

There may we meet, and with the blissful choir
To love divine the song triumphant raise!
While grateful wonder tunes the raptur'd lyre
To boundless pleasure and immortal praise.

To an Infant three weeks old.

Can I bid thee, lovely stranger,
Welcome to a world of care?
Where attends thee many a danger,
Where awaits thee many a snare?

Hence, away, ye dark surmizes,
Hope presents a fairer scene;
Many a blooming pleasure rises,
Many a sunbeam shines serene.

130

O may providence defend thee!
Circled in its guardian arms,
Dangers may in vain attend thee,
Safe amid surrounding harms.

Shall I wish the world caressing?
Wish thee pleasure, grandeur, wealth?
No—but many a nobler blessing;
Wisdom, virtue, friendship, health.

May'st thou know the gracious donor,
Early know, and love and praise!
Then shall real wealth and honour,
Peace and pleasure crown thy days.

Breathing after God.

Where is my God? does he retire
Beyond the reach of humble sighs?
Are these weak breathings of desire
Too languid to ascend the skies?

131

Where is my God? can he be mine
And yet so long conceal his face?
And must I every joy resign
Nor hope for his returning grace?

Hence guilty diffidence depart,
His goodness never can decline;
He sees this weak this trembling heart
That yet aspires to call him mine.

He hears the breathings of desire,
The weak petition if sincere,
Is not forbidden to aspire,
And hope to reach his gracious ear.

Look up my soul with cheerful eye,
See where the great Redeemer stands,
The glorious advocate on high,
With precious incense in his hands.

He sweetens every humble groan,
He recommends each broken prayer;
Recline thy hope on him alone,
Whose power and love forbid despair.

Teach my weak heart, O gracious Lord,
With stronger faith to call thee mine,
Bid me pronounce the blissful word,
My father God with joy divine.

132

Filial Submission.

If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons, for what son is he whom the Father chasteneth not. Heb. xii, 7.

And can my heart aspire so high,
To say, “my Father God!”
Lord at thy feet I fain would lie,
And learn to kiss the rod.

I would submit to all thy will,
For thou art good and wise;
Let every anxious thought be still,
Nor one faint murmur rise.

Thy love can cheer the darksome gloom,
And bid me wait serene;
Till hopes and joys immortal bloom,
And brighten all the scene.

133

My father—O permit my heart,
To plead her humble claim,
And ask the bliss those words impart
In my Redeemer's name.

Humble Trust.

Why should my pining spirit be
So long a stranger to my Lord,
When promises divinely free,
Invite me in his sacred word?

Does he not bid the weary come,
And call the wretched sons of grief,
To him their refuge and their home,
Their heavenly friend, their sure relief?

Yes by the kindest, tenderest names,
My Lord invites my humble trust;
My diffidence he gently blames,
How soft the censure and how just.

134

This trembling frame worn out with pains
On thee my guardian God depends;
And while my fainting heart complains,
To thee the plaintive groan ascends.

Though all the powers of nature fail,
And life's pale trembling lamp decline;
Thy grace can bid my faith prevail,
Can give me fortitude divine.

That grace which bids my hope aspire
Can every anxious fear remove,
Can give me all my soul's desire,
The full assurance of thy love.

Hymn to Jesus.

Shall loyal nations hail the day,
That crowns their king with loud acclaim?
And shall not saints their homage pay,
To their beloved Saviour's name?
Ye saints, resound in joyful strains,
Jesus, the King of glory reigns!

135

Jesus who vanquish'd all your foes,
Who came to save, who reigns to bless,
From him your every comfort flows,
Life, liberty, and joy, and peace.
Resound, resound in joyful strains,
Jesus, the King of glory reigns!

Yes, thou art worthy dearest Lord,
Of universal endless praise;
With every power to be ador'd,
That men or angels e'er can raise.
Let heaven and earth unite their strains,
Jesus, the King of glory reigns!

But earth, nor heaven can e'er proclaim,
The boundless glories of their king;
Yet must our hearts adore his name,
Dear name, whence all our blessings spring!
Resound, resound in joyful strains,
Jesus the King of glory reigns!

How mean the tribute mortals pay,
How cold the heart, how faint the tongue;
But Lord thy coronation day,
Shall tune a more exalted song:
Resounding in immortal strains,
Jesus the King of glory reigns!

136

He comes, he comes, with triumph crown'd,
In dazzling robes of light array'd,
Faith views the splendor dawning round,
Earth's fairest lustre sinks in shade.
Resound, resound in joyful strains,
Jesus the King of glory reigns!

The coronation of king George III.

The King of Saints.

Come, ye that love the Savior's name,
And joy to make it known:
The sovereign of your hearts proclaim,
And bow before his throne.

Behold your King, your Savior crown'd
With glories all divine;
And tell the wondering nations round
How bright those glories shine.

While majesty's effulgent blaze
Surrounds his awful brow;
E'en angels tremble as they gaze,
And veil'd adoring bow.

137

But love attempers every ray,
Love, how divinely sweet!
That stoops to view the sons of clay,
And calls them to his feet!

Infinite power and boundless grace,
In him unite their rays:
You that have e'er beheld his face,
Can you forbear his praise?

When in his earthly courts we view
The glories of our King;
We long to love as angels do,
And wish like them to sing.

And shall we long and wish in vain?
Lord teach our songs to rise!
Thy love can animate the strain,
And bid it reach the skies.

O happy period! glorious day!
When heaven and earth shall raise,
With all their powers the raptur'd lay,
To celebrate thy praise.

138

Hymn for the Lord's Day Morning.

Great God, this sacred day of thine,
Demands our souls collected powers;
May we employ in work divine,
These solemn, these devoted hours!
O may our souls adoring own,
The grace which calls us to thy throne!

Hence, ye vain cares and trifles fly,
Where God resides appear no more,
Omniscient God, thy piercing eye,
Can every secret thought explore.
O may thy grace our hearts refine,
And fix our thoughts on things divine.

The word of life dispens'd to day,
Invites us to a heavenly feast;
May every ear the call obey,
Be every heart a humble guest!
O bid the wretched sons of need,
On soul-reviving dainties feed!

139

Thy spirit's powerful aid impart,
O may thy word with life divine,
Engage the ear, and warm the heart;
Then shall the day indeed be thine:
Then shall our souls adoring own,
The grace which calls us to thy throne.

Happy Poverty, or the Poor in Spirit blessed.

[_]

Matt. v. 3.

Ye humble souls complain no more,
Let faith survey your future store,
How happy, how divinely blest,
The sacred words of truth attest.

When conscious grief laments sincere,
And pours the penitential tear;
Hope points to your dejected eyes,
The bright reversion in the skies.

140

In vain the sons of wealth and pride,
Despise your lot, your hopes deride;
In vain they boast their little stores,
Trifles are theirs, a kingdom yours.

A kingdom of immense delight,
Where health, and peace, and joy unite;
Where undeclining pleasures rise,
And every wish hath full supplies.

A kingdom which can ne'er decay,
While time sweeps earthly thrones away;
The state which power and truth sustain,
Unmov'd for ever must remain.

There shall your eyes with rapture view,
The glorious friend that dy'd for you;
That dy'd to ransom, dy'd to raise
To crowns of joy, and songs of praise.

Jesus, to thee I breathe my prayer,
Reveal, confirm my interest there!
Whate'er my humble lot below,
This, this my soul desires to know!

O let me hear that voice divine,
Pronounce the glorious blessing mine!
Enroll'd among thy happy poor,
My largest wishes ask no more.

141

The necessity of renewing Grace.

How helpless, guilty nature lies,
Unconscious of its load!
The heart unchang'd can never rise,
To happiness and God.

The will perverse, the passions blind,
In paths of ruin stray:
Reason debas'd can never find,
The safe, the narrow way.

Can ought beneath a power divine
The stubborn will subdue?
'Tis thine, almighty Savior, thine
To form the heart anew.

'Tis thine the passions to recall,
And upwards bid them rise;
And make the scales of error fall
From reason's darken'd eyes.

142

To chase the shades of death away,
And bid the sinner live!
A beam of heaven, a vital ray
'Tis thine alone to give.

O change these wretched hearts of ours,
And give them life divine!
Then shall our passions and our powers
Almighty Lord, be thine.

The Pearl of great price.

[_]

Matt. xiii. 46.

Ye glittering toys of earth adieu,
A nobler choice be mine;
A real prize attracts my view,
A treasure all divine.

Be gone, unworthy of my cares,
Ye specious baits of sense;
Inestimable worth appears,
The pearl of price immense.

143

Jesus, to multitudes unknown,
O name divinely sweet!
Jesus, in thee, in thee alone,
Wealth, honor, pleasure meet.

Should both the Indies at my call,
Their boasted stores resign,
With joy I would renounce them all,
For leave to call thee mine.

Should earth's vain treasures all depart,
Of this dear gift possess'd;
I'd clasp it to my joyful heart,
And be for ever bless'd.

Dear sovereign of my soul's desires,
Thy love is bliss divine;
Accept the wish that love inspires,
And bid me call thee mine.