JC w FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON, D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY DMfei SC| *** M2&& V, *> J r " If5.«*iij EXPORJ ftcOKSEllXfts] ~Y STREET J Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2013 http://archive.org/details/poems01bowd w* /; nrr 12 mi A POEMS DIVINE AND MORAL, MANY OF THEM NOW FIRST PUBLISHED. SELECTED BY JOHN BOWDLER, ESQ. VOL. L " If I one Soul improve, I have not lived in vain-" Beattie. LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. CADELL, IN THE STRAND J AND SOLD BY W. 0. AND J.RIVINGTON, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH YARD; AND HATCHARD AND SON, PICCADILLY: 1821. Printed by Davidson, Old Boswel) Court, Carey Street. CONTENTS, VOL. I. HYMNS. Page. Preface xi Morning Hymn Bp. Kenn 1 Evening Do Do. 2 Midnight Do Do 4 For a Child 5 Praise to God Dr. Watts 6 Praise for Mercies Do 7 The All-seeing God .... Do 8 The Lord's Day Do 9 The Sabbath Mason 9 Evening Do 10 Lord's Supper 11 2d Sunday in Advent 12 4th Do 13 Christmas Day 14 Innocents' Day 15 Easter Day Bp. Home 16 Prayer J. Bowdler, Jun. 17 Sympathy of Christ 19 Creation and Redemption Dr. Carlisle .... 20 God's Mercies Addison 2 i God's Providential Care Do '23 Day of Judgment Do 25 a 9 iv CONTENTS. Page. Address to the Deity Merrick 26 Works of Creation 29 The Bible 30 Veni Creator Dryden 31 For a Charity Sermon ... J. Bowdler, Jun. 32 Thankfulness Do 34 The Sabbath Do 35 Litany 37 From Religio Clerici .... Mason 39 Morning Hymn of Adam and Eve, Milton. . 39 PSALMS. Psalm 1 : 43 13 New Version .... 44 15 Do 45 15 Mason 46 19 Addison 47 23 Do 48 23 49 24 J. Bowdler, Jun. 51 29 Merrick ....... 52 34 New Version 53 — — 35 Merrick 54 42 J. Bowdler, Jun. 55 42 Dr. Cotton 57 49 59 84 61 ,84 Merrick 62 93 New Version ... 63 95 Do 64 CONTENTS. v Page. Psalm 1 00 New Version . . 65 100 66 100 66 103 Do 67 114 Watts 68 121 J. Bowdler, Jun. 69 122 Merrick 70 123 J. Bowdler, Jun. 71 128 Mason 72 130 Do 73 137 Do 74 139 New Version . . 75 142 Do 76 148 Ogilvie 77 1 50 Merrick 79 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. Part of Job Young 80 David's Lamentation 83 7th Chap. Proverbs Pope 85 12th Chap. Ecclesiastes 87 40th Chap. Isaiah, verse ) D c- w , C o ■; „ } Rev. S. Wesley $8 7 and 8 $ J Benedicite Merrick 89 Paraphrase of the Lord's Prayer 95 Part of the 6th Chap. 1 Thomson 97 Matthew } Mysterious Stranger Dale 9S Charity Prior 100 vi CONTENTS. ELEGIES. Page. On the 25th Oct. 1819 103 Lines by an amiable Princess 104 Death of the Hon. Mr. Dawson 1 05 On my Birthday Mrs. Carter. . . 107 Memory of Mrs. E. Carter Mrs. Hunter . . 108 Death of Mr. Garrick Miss Bowdler . 110 Alwyn and Rena 112 On a dying Friend 114 Lines for the Use of an) D T ,, , , K «..,,. > Rev. J. Marriott llo afflicted Lady S My Brother's Grave J.Moultrie, Esq. 117 To Mrs. S Her Husband. . 123 Death of a Poor Idiot Mrs. Dixon. . . 125 On a Young; Woman found ) , T - , r , T 100 . , & C Miss M. loune; 128 dead $ Jessy Shenstone 130 To a Friend Do 134 To Mrs. Unwin Cowper 136 To the Same Do 136 To my Father 1 38 In Memory of my Beloved Mother 139 The Leaf " Bp. Home 140 Lines in the Porch of Binstead Church ... 142 Thoughts in a Garden Grigg 142 Ruins of Dunkswell Abbey 143 Death Quarles 145 Death's Final Conquest .. Shirley 147 To Mrs. J. Bowdler, Jun. 148 A Fragment Do 150 To his Mother Do 151 CONTENTS. vii Page. To Miss B Miss Bowdler.. 154 Stanzas Mrs. Carter ... ] 56 On a Thunder Storm Bp. Lowth 157 On the Bath Hospital .... Anstey 159 Child of Man J. Bowdler,Jun. 160 Supplement to Do Rev. T. Bowdler 161 On the Spring Bp. Home .... 163 Triumphs of Faith Mrs. H. More. . 164 From the Sceptic Mrs. Hemans . . 1 65 The Mechanism of Man 166 To the Aged 168 To Reflection 170 Beauty Short-lived , 171 Contentment Parnell 172 Night Mrs. Carter ... 173 On the Death of a Lady. . Beattie 175 Death of Lady Coventry. . Mason 177 ODES. Celestial Hope Miss Bowdler. . 183 Fall of Babylon J. Sargent, Esq. 188 Cure of Saul Dr. Brown. ... 192 To E. C. on Fortitude Miss Mulso 198 To Humanity Dr. Langhorne 202 Pleasure arising from Vi- j> p .^p. cissitude $ ' " Gray's Ode at the Grande > Translated by Chartreuse $ Miss Bowdler 207 Ode , 208 viii CONTENTS. EPITAPHS. Page. On the Countess Dowager > r> t mi - „ w -. , 5 } Ben Jonson .... 211 01 Pembroke > On Mr. Craggs Pope 211 On Mrs. Mason Rev. W. Mason . 212 On John Duke of Bridge- > Df CottQn ^3 water ^ On an Infant „ Rev. S. Wesley. 213 By a Gentleman to the memory of his Lady. 214 Another 214 On Mrs. Clarke .... Gray 215 On the Rev. T. Chamber- ) T « * v oik , V J. Sargent, Esq. . 21 On Mrs. Grove W. Grove, Esq. . 216 On Miss Leigh Do 217 On Mrs. Tatton Mason 218 On C. Dicey, Esq Mrs. H. More. . . 219 On Miss Drummond .... Mason 220 On Miss Hill Boothby B. Boothby, Esq. 220 On Mrs. E. Porter 221 On a young Lady 222 On a Youth 223 Another 223 On a Beautiful Girl Robt. Cobb, Esq. 224 FABLES AND TALES. Shepherd and Philosopher Gay 225 Wolf and Lamb Graves 228 CONTENTS. ix Page. Butterfly and Snail Gay 229 Miser and Plutus Do 231 Sick Man and Angel Do 232 Council of Horses Do 234 Court of Death Do 237 Tulip and Violet 238 Fly and Trout 240 Bears and 'Bees Merrick 241 Pelican and Spider 242 Cameleon Merrick ....... 246 Hare and Tortoise 249 Boy and Ring-Dove 25 1 Atheist and Acorn Lady Winchilsea 252 Emmets Watts 253 Sluggard Do 254 Innocent Play Do 256 Sturdy Rock „ 257 Fatal Inquisitor 258 We are Seven Southey 261 Louisa Miss Bowdler. . , 264 Three Warnings Mrs. Thrale 273 ERRATA. Page 49 line 4 for round read around 113 5 — sighs read sigh 10 — cheeks read cheek 125 1 — Ideot read Idiot 1 G4 2 — Moore read More 170 3 — foun read found 172 21 — Beattie read Parnell 201 7 — removes read remove 254 9 dele me PREFACE. JJo ALL THE GOOD YOU CAN, Was my excellent father's charge to me his first-born son ; and, conscious, as I am, of my hitherto imperfect compliance with this admirable injunction, and of my now weakened powers, the desire to fulfil it still remains, and has produced the present publication. For age and infirmities having nearly confined me to my house, I grew anxious to avoid the dan- ger of becoming totally useless: and, a small collection of poems, moral and divine, having been given me when a boy by one of my school-fellows, (most of which I committed to memory,) it occurred to me, that by re- publishing these, I might afford to others the pleasure and comfort which I have my- self derived from them during the course of my long life. And being informed that a xii PREFACE. volume of sacred poetry ori sound principles, was much wanted, I resolved to endeavour to supply so remarkable a deficiency ; and by the assistance of my friends, and by ex- tracts from our best moral poets, added to what I have selected from my own and other collections, the work has grown into two small volumes; though, by omitting some pieces less calculated for general use, I have been able to furnish an edition in one thicker volume at a moderate price. As there is not a single line of my own in this publication, I am free from the anxiety of an author ; and as an editor, I shall not only be content, but highly gratified, if (as I hope) my book shall be found to contain nothing hurtful, and much that may promote the glory of God, and the well-being of my fellow Christians. That it might have been better executed is too evident ; but those who are struck with its defects, are requested to observe> that my object was not to produce a collection of ele- gant poetry, but to do good ; and that hav- ing entered my seventy-sixth year, I had no PREFACE. xiii time to lose. I therefore hastened my work, and extracted and abridged freely, and even ventured, in a few instances, to alter a word or phrase when not suited to my purpose. As youth is the season best fitted for in- struction, and every Christian must admit that religious knowledge is the most import- ant of all; aud as verse is more easily learnt, and longer retained than prose; I have made the rising generation my principal objects. And being convinced by long experience, that such instruction cannot begin too soon, and that short hymns and psalms are suited to the minds and memories of children, even in infancy, I have placed such in the first pages of my book, and would earnestly recommend to those of my readers who have the charge of children in their tender years, to teach them to repeat a few stanzas of these, even before they can speak plain. I know it may be done with pleasure to them, as well as to their instructors, and it will implant in their minds pious ideas and use- ful maxims, which will be retained, and prove highly beneficial throughout their fu- ture lives. xiv PREFACE. A practice has long prevailed, (chiefly in- deed among the middle and lower classes) of compelling little children to learn, each Sun- day morning, the Collect for the day ; a prac- tice which appears to me very prejudicial. It is evidently useless, for these Collects are no sooner learnt than forgotten. Indeed, it would be absurd to attempt to make children retain fifty-two Collects in their memories. But there is a much more serious objection to this custom. The minds of children are light and lively ; Religion and its duties are serious and solemn ; and, while it is of the utmost importance that these duties should be inculcated at the earliest years, it is, at the same time, of equal importance, to use every effort, that they may not become irk- some to the young, nor the Lord's day be rendered unpleasant to them. But how can this be avoided, if, as soon as that day be- gins, they are summoned to a lesson as hard and dry as those of the other six days, and the perfect acquisition of which is rigidly in- sisted on ? The Church Catechism and some short exposition of it, must be learnt, but even these ought to make part of the PREFACE. xv business of the week, and a repetition only be exacted on the Sunday ; and, perhaps, no other prose task need be imposed on that day ; and if, instead thereof, a few short hymns be recited, which all who hear them will acquire without difficulty, the employ- ment will become pleasant as well as profit- able. For the truth of this I appeal to Dr. Watts's excellent preface to his Divine Songs : the pious conclusion of which I de- sire to adopt, and say, with him, to all who are concerned in the education of children, " May the Almighty God make you faith- M ful in this important work ! May He suo " ceed your cares by His abundant grace, " that the rising generation of Great Britain " may be a glory among the nations, a pat- " tern to the Christian world, and a blessing " to the earth!" HYMNS. MORNING HYMN.— Bp. Kenn. Awake, my soul, and with the sun Thy daily stage of duty run ; Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise To pay thy morning sacrifice. Thy precious time misspent redeem ; Each present day thy last esteem : Improve thy talent with due care, For the great day thyself prepare. In conversation be sincere, Keep conscience as the noon-tide clear ; Think how th' all-seeing God thy ways And all thy secret thoughts surveys. Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart, And with the angels bear thy part, Who all night long unwearied sing Glory to the Eternal King. I wake, I wake, ye heavenly choir ! May your devotion me inspire ; That I, like you, my age may spend, Like you may on my God attend ! B HYMNS. May I, like you, in God delight, Have all day long my God in sight; Perform, like you, my Maker's will ; ! may I never more do ill ! Glory to Thee ; who safe hast kept, And hast refreshed me, whilst I slept; Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake, 1 may of endless life partake. Lord ! I my vows to Thee renew ; Disperse my sins, as morning dew ; Guard my first springs of thought and will, And with Thyself my spirit fill. Direct, control, suggest, this day, All I design, or do, or say, That all my powers, with all their might, To Thy sole glory may unite. Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, Praise Him, all creatures here below; Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. EVENING HYMN.— Bp. Kenn. Glory to Thee, my God, this night, For all the blessings of the light ; Keep me, O keep me, King of kings ! Under thy own Almighty wings. HYMNS. Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son, The ills that I this day have done ; That with the world, myself, and Thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be. Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed ; Teach me to die, that so I may Rise joyful at the judgment day. O ! may my soul on Thee repose, And may sweet sleep mine eye-lids close ; Sleep, that may me more vig'rous make To serve my God, when I awake. When in the night I sleepless lie, My soul with heav'nly thoughts supply; Let no ill dreams disturb my rest, No powers of darkness me molest. May guardian angels, while I sleep, Close to my bed their vigils keep ; Their love angelical instil, Stop every avenue of ill ! May they celestial joys rehearse, And thought to thought with me converse ; Or, in my stead, all the night long, Sing to my God a grateful song ! Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, Praise Him all creatures here below ; Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, b 2 HYMNS. MIDNIGHT HYMN.— Bp. Kerrn. My God ! now I from sleep awake, The sole possession of me take ; From midnight terrors me secure, And guard my heart from thoughts impure. Bless'd angels ! while we silent lie, You hallelujahs sing on high : You joyful hymn the Ever-blest Before the throne, and never rest. I with your choir celestial join In offer'ing up a hymn divine ; With you in heav'n I hope to dwell, And bid the night and world farewell. O ! when shall I, in endless day, For ever chase dark sleep away, And hymns with the supernal choir Incessant sing, and never tire ! Bless'd Jesu ! Thou, on heav'n intent, Whole nights hast in devotion spent ; But T, frail creature, soon am tir'd, And all my zeal is soon expir'd. Shine on me, Lord, new life impart, Fresh ardours kindle in my heart ; One ray of Thy all-quick'ning light Dispels the sloth and clouds of night. HYMNS. Lord ! lest the Tempter me surprise, Watch over Thy own Sacrifice ; All loose, all idle thoughts, cast out, And make my very dreams devout. Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, Praise Him all creatures here below ; Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. HYMN FOR A CHILD. O great and glorious God above, Fountain of Light, and Source of Love; With raised hands and bended knee An infant lifts her prayer to Thee. merciful and gracious Lord! Teach me to understand thy word ; Teach me in childhood's early hour To love Thy Name, to fear Thy Power: To know that my Redeemer gave His precious blood my soul to save ; Oh ! may my soul but grateful prove, For that amazing act of love ! When adverse storms obscure my sky, Oh ! let me feel that thou art nigh ; Or if prosperity be mine, That all which I possess is thine. b3 HYMNS. PRAISE TO GOD.— Dr. Watts. How glorious is our heav'nly King, Who reigns above the sky ! How shall a child presume to sing His dreadful Majesty? How great His pow'r is, none can tell, Nor think how large His grace ; Not men below, nor saints that dwell On high before His face. Not angels that stand round the Lord Can search His secret will : But they perform His heav'nly word, And sing His praises still. Then let me join this holy train, And my first off 'rings bring; Th' eternal God will not disdain To hear an infant sing. My heart resolves, my tongue obeys, And angels shall rejoice To hear their mighty Maker's praise Sound from a feeble voice. HYMNS. PRAISE FOR MERCIES.— Dr. Watts. Whexe'er I take my walks abroad, How many poor I see; What shall I render to my God, For all His gifts to me ? Not more than others I deserve, Yet God has given me more ; For I have food, while others starve, Or beg from door to door. How many children, in the street, Half naked I behold; While I am cloth'd from head to feet, And cover'd from the cold ! While some poor wretches scarce can tell, Where they may lay their head, I have a home wherein to dwell, And rest upon my bed. While others early learn to swear, And curse, and lie, and steal, Lord, I am taught Thy Name to fear, And do Thy holy will. Are these Thy mercies, day by day, To me above the rest ? Then let me love Thee more than they, And try to serve Thee best. b 4 HYMNS. THE ALL-SEEING GOD.— Dr. Watts. Almighty God, Thy piercing eye Strikes thro' the shades of night, And our most secret actions lie All open to Thy sight. There's not a sin that we commit, Nor wicked word we say, But in Thy dreadful book 'tis writ, Against the judgment-day. And must the crimes that I have done Be read and publish' d there ? Be all expos'd before the sun, While men and angels hear? Lord, at Thy feet asham'd I lie; Upward I dare not look ; Pardon my sins before I die, And blot them from Thy book. Remember all the dying pains That my Redeemer felt, And let His blood wash out my stains, And answer for my guilt. O may I now for ever fear T' indulge a sinful thought, Since the great God can see and hear, And writes down ev'ry fault. HYMNS. THE LORD'S DAY.— Dr. Watts. This is the day when Christ arose So early from the dead ; Why should I keep my eye-lids clos'd, And waste my hours in bed ? This is the day when Jesus broke The pow'r of death and hell ; And shall I still wear Satan's yoke, And love my sins so well ? To-day with pleasure Christians meet, To pray, and hear the word : And 1 would go with willing feet To learn Thy will, O Lord ! I'll leave my sports to read and pray, And so prepare for heaven ; O may I love this blessed day, The best of all the seven ! THE SABBATH.— Rev. Wm. Mason. Again returns the day of holy rest, Which when He made the world Jehovah blest; When like his own he bade our labours cease, And all be piety, and all be peace. b 5 10 HYMNS. While impious men despise the sage decree, From "vain deceit, and false philosophy," Let us its wisdom own, its blessings feel, Receive with gratitude, perform with zeal. Let us devote this consecrated day To learn His will, and all we learn obey; In pure religion's hallow'd duties share, And join in penitence, and join in prayer. So shall the God of mercy pleas' d receive That only tribute man has power to give ; So shall He hear, while fervently we raise Our choral harmony in hymns of praise. CHORUS. Father of Heaven ! in whom our hopes confide, Whose pow'r defends us, and whose precepts guide; In life our Guardian, and in death our Friend, Glory supreme be Thine, till time shall end. EVENING. Soon will the evening star, with silver ray, Shed its mild lustre on this sacred day ; Resume we then, ere sleep and silence reign, The rites that holiness and Heaven ordain. HYMNS. 11 Still let each awful truth our thoughts engage, That shines reveal'd on inspiration's page ; Nor those blest hours in vain amusement waste, Which all who lavish shall lament at last. Here humbly let us hope our Maker's smile Will crown, with meet success, our weekly toil; And here, on each returning Sabbath join In prayer, in penitence, and praise divine. CHORUS. Father of Heaven ! in whom our hopes confide, Whose pow'r defends us, and whose precepts guide ; In life our Guardian, and in death our Friend, Glory supreme be Thine, till time shall end. THE LORD'S SUPPER. Hail sacred feast, which Jesus makes, Rich banquet of His flesh and blood ! Thrice happy he, who here partakes That sacred cup, that heav'nly food. Why are its dainties all in vain Before unwilling hearts display'd ? Was not for you the Victim slain ? Are you denied the children's bread? 12 HYMNS. ! let thy table honoured be, And cloth' d in wedding robes thy guests And may each soul salvation see, That here its sacred pledges tastes ! Let crouds approach Thy table, Lord, With hearts prepar'd let all attend, Nor when we leave our Father's board The pleasure or the profit end. SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT. Tn the sun and moon and stars Signs and wonders there shall be, Earth shall quake with inward wars, Nations with perplexity. Soon shall ocean's hoary deep, Tossed with stronger tempests, rise, Wilder storms the mountains sweep, Louder thunders rock the skies. Evil thoughts shall shake the proud, Racking doubt and restless fear; And amid the thunder cloud Shall the Judge of men appear. But though from that awful face Heaven shall fade and earth shall fly, Fear not ye, His chosen race, Your redemption draweth nigh ! HYMNS. 13 FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT. The Lord shall come, the earth shall quake, The hills their fixed seats forsake ; And, withering from the vault of night, The stars shall pale their feeble light. The Lord shall come ! but not the same As once in lowly guise He came, A silent Lamb before His foes, A weary Man and full of woes. The Lord shall come, a dreadful form, With rainbow wreath and robes of storm, On cherub wings and wings of wind, Anointed Judge of human kind. Can this be He, who, wont to stray, A pilgrim on the world's high-way, Oppressed by power, and mocked by pride ! Is this, is this, the crucified ? Now pride and pow'r astonish' d fly The terrors of His alter'd eye ; While Faith, ascending from the tomb, In triumph shouts " The Lord is come." 14 HYMNS. CHRISTMAS-DAY. Hark ! the herald-angels sing, Glory to the new-born King ! Peace on earth, and mercy mild, God and sinners reconcil'd. Joyful all ye nations rise, Join the triumphs of the skies ; With th' angelic host proclaim, Christ is born in Bethlehem! CHORUS. Hark ! the herald-angels sing, Glory to the new-born King ! Christ, by highest heaven ador'd ! Christ, the everlasting Lord! Long foretold behold him come, Offspring of a Virgin's womb. Veil'd in flesh the Godhead see, Hail the incarnate Deity ! Pleas'd as man with men t' appear, Jesus, our Immanuel here. CHORUS. Hark ! the herald-angels sing, Glory to the new-born King ! HYMNS. 15 Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness ! Light and life to all He brings, Ris'n with healing in his wings. Mild He lays His glory by ; Born that man no more may die ; Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth. CHORUS. Hark ! the herald-angels sing, Glory to the new-born King ! INNOCENTS' DAY. O weep not o'er thy children's tomb, O Rachel weep not so ! The bud is cropt by martyrdom, The flower in heaven shall blow. Firstlings of faith ! the murderer's knife Fail'd of its deadly aim, The God for whom they gave their life, Has given His own for them. Tho' evil were their days and few, Baptiz'd in blood and pain, He knows them, whom they never knew, And thev shall live again. 16 HYMNS. Then weep not o'er thy children's tomb, O Rachael weep not so ! The bud is cropt by martyrdom, The flower in heaven shall blow. A MORNING HYMN ON EASTER DAY. Bp. Home. Hark! the shrill herald of the morn Begins the sons of men to warn, And bids them all arise, To celebrate His great renown, Who sends the light refulgent down, To bless our longing eyes. At this the fainting shadows die, The pow'rs of darkness swiftly fly Before the morning star ; Pale trembling murder dares not stay ; And fiends, abash' d at sight of day, Back to their den repair. 'Tis this the weary sailor cheers, Who now no more the tempest hears, Which morning bids to cease : Q ! come that day-spring from on high, When discord shall with darkness fly, And all be light and peace. HYMNS. 17 'Twas this that drew repentant tears From Peter, led by worldly fears His Master to disown ; Warned by the monitor of the day, He cast the works of night away, And sought th' abjured Sun. Whene'er the bird of dawning crows, He tells us all how Peter rose, And mark'd us out the road ; That each disciple might begin, And wake, like him, from sleep and sin To think betimes on God. Smote by the eye that looks on all, Let us, obedient to the call, Arise to weep and pray ; Till mournful, as on sin we muse, Faith, like an angel, tells the news, " The Lord is ris'n to day." PRAYER.— J. Bowdler, Jun. Father of Good, to whom belong My morning vow, my evening song ; Again, with trembling joy, to Thee, A wayward child, I bend my knee. Myriads of angels guard Thy throne, And I am little, I am one ; Yet all Thy works Thine eyes survey : Then hear and help me while I pray. 18 HYMNS. Thy gifts my days with gladness crown; Sin, only sin, hath bowed me down. Lord, touch my heart, and make me know My Saviour's worth, my Saviour's woe ! Then shall my angry will be tame ; Then shall I learn and weep my shame ; The weight of wrath in judgment due Shall feel, and feel Thy mercy too. Yet not for pard'ning grace alone I breathe a suppliant sinner's groan: Pardon and love are both divine ; Then give me both, and make me Thine. Thy pard'ning grace my fears shall quell ; But love shall pride and sin expel ; While faith, in every danger nigh, Gives strength, and peace, and liberty. So, as T walk my earthly way, Thy mercy, Lord, my steps shall stay ; Brighten with hope my saddest hours, And strew the pilgrim path with flowers. And so, while life and breath are mine, Shall ev'ry power in concert join To praise the God, to whom belong My morning vow and evening song. HYMNS. 19 THE SYMPATHY OF CHRIST. When gathering clouds around I view, And days are dark, and friends are few, On Him I lean, who, not in vain, Experienced every human pain ; He feels my grief, allays my fears, And counts and treasures up my tears. If ought should tempt my soul to stray From heavenly wisdom's narrow way, To fly the good I would pursue, Or do the sin I would not do, Still He who felt temptation's power Will guard me in that dangerous hour. If wounded love my bosom swell, Deceived by those I prized too well, He shall His pitying aid bestow, Who felt on earth severer woe ; At once betrayed, denied, or fled By those who shared His daily bread. When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend Which covers all that was a friend, And from his voice, his hand, his smile, Divides me for a little while, Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed, For Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead. 20 HYMNS. When vexing thoughts within me rise, And sore dismayed my spirit dies ; When writhing on the bed of pain I supplicate for rest in vain; Still, still, my soul shall think of Thee, Thy bloody sweat and agony. And oh ! when I have safely past Through every conflict but the last, Wilt Thou who once for me hast bled, In all my sickness make my bed ? Then point to realms of endless day, And wipe the latest tear away. CREATION AND REDEMPTION, Dr. Carlisle. Lord, when we creation scan, What Thy power has done for man, All our conscious hearts agree, How much men must owe to Thee. Every note that cheers the vale, Every sweet that scents the gale, Every blooming flower we see, Tells that Joy we owe to Thee. Every breath that heaves the breast, Every sound by voice exprest, Every thought the mind sets free, Tells that Life we owe to Thee. HYMNS. 21 But when we redemption view, Gaze on all Thy love could do; Lord ! our grateful hearts agree, How much more we owe to Thee. When we think what we had been, Sunk in sorrow, lost in sin ; Saved from sin, from sorrow free, More than joy we owe to Thee. When we hear our Master say, " Death is vanquished, Come away, Heaven is your's," we all must see More than life we owe to Thee. GOD'S MERCIES.— Addison. When all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys; Transported with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise. O ! how shall words with equal warmth The gratitude declare, That glows within my ravish'd heart ? But Thou canst read it there. Thy providence my life sustain'd, And all my wants redrest, When in the silent womb I lay, And hung upon the breast. 22 HYMNS. To all my weak complaints and cries, Thy mercy lent an ear, 'Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt To form themselves in pray'r. Unnumber'd comforts to my soul Thy tender care bestow'd, Before my infant heart conceived From whom those comforts flow'd. When in the slippery paths of youth, With heedless steps 1 ran, Thine arm unseen convey'd me safe, And led me up to man. Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths, It gently cleared my way, And through the pleasing snares of vice, More to be fear'd than they. When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou With health renew'd my face, And when in sin and sorrow sunk, Reviv'd my soul with grace. Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss Has made my cup run o'er, And in a kind and faithful friend Has doubled all my store. Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ, 1 Nor is the least a grateful heart, That tastes those gifts with joy. HYMNS. 23 Through every period of my life, Thy goodness I'll pursue; And after death in distant worlds The glorious theme renew. When Nature fails, and day and night Divide Thy works no more, My ever grateful heart, O Lord, Thy mercy shall adore. Through all eternity to Thee A joyful song I'll raise, For oh ! eternity's too short To utter all Thy praise, GOD'S PROVIDENTIAL CARE.— Addison. How are Thy servants blest, O Lord ! How sure is their defence ! Eternal Wisdom is their guide, Their help, Omnipotence. In foreign realms, and lands remote, Supported by Thy care, Through burning climes I pass'd unhurt, And breath' d untainted air. Thy mercy sweeten'd ev'ry soil, Made every region please; The hoary Alpine hills it warm'd, And smooth'd the Tyrrhene seas. 24 HYMNS. Think, O my soul, devoutly think, How with affrighted eyes, Thou saw'st the wide extended deep In all its horrors rise ! Confusion dwelt in every face, And fear in every heart ; When waves on waves, and gulphs in gulphs, Overcame the pilot's art. Yet then from all my griefs, O Lord, Thy mercy set me free, Whilst in the confidence of pray'r, My soul took hold on Thee. For though in dreadful whirls we hung High on the broken wave, I knew Thou wert not slow to hear, Nor impotent to save. The storm was laid, the winds retir'd, Obedient to Thy will ; The sea, that roar'd at Thy command, At Thy command was still. In midst of dangers, fears, and death, Thy goodness I'll adore, And praise Thee for Thy mercies past, And humbly hope for more. My life, if Thou preservst my life, , Thy sacrifice shall be ; And death, when death must be my doom, Shall join my soul to Thee. HYMNS. 25 DAY OF JUDGMENT.— Addison. When rising from the bed of Death, O'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear, I see ray Maker, face to face, how shall I appear ! If yet, while pardon may be found, And mercy may be sought, My heart with inward horror shrinks, And trembles at the thought ; When Thou, O Lord, shalt stand disclos'd, In majesty severe, And sit in judgment on my soul, ! how shall I appear ! But Thou hast told the troubled mind, Who does her sins lament, The timely tribute of her tears Shall endless woe prevent. Then see my sorrows, my God, Ere yet it be too late; And hear my Saviour's dying groans, To give those sorrows weight. For never shall my soul despair Her pardon to procure, Who knows thine only Son has died To make her pardon sure. c 26 HYMNS. ADDRESS TO THE DEITY.— Merrick. PART I. God of my health, whose tender care First gave me pow'r to move, How shall my thankful heart declare The wonders of Thy love ? While void of thought and sense I lay, Dust of my parent earth, Thy breath inform' d the sleeping clay, And call'd me to the birth. From Thee the parts their fashion took, And, ere my life begun, Within the volume of Thy book Were written one by one. Thine eye beheld in open view The yet unfinish'd plan ; The shadowy lines Thy pencil drew, And form'd the future man. Oh ! may this frame, which rising grew Beneath thy plastic hands, Be studious ever to pursue Whate'er Thy will commands. The soul which moves this earthly load, Thy semblance let it bear, Nor lose the traces of the God, Who stamp' d His image there. HYMNS. 27 PART II. Thou, who within this earthly shrine Hast pour'd Thy quick'ning ray, Oh ! let Thy influence on me shine, And purge each mist away. With curious search let others ask Through Nature's depth to see ; Oh ! teach my soul the better task, To know itself and Thee. Teach me to know how weak the mind That yields to erring pride ; x\nd make my doubting reason find Thy word its safest guide. Let me not, lost in learning's maze, Religion's flame resign : For what's the worth of human praise, Compared, my God, to Thine ? Keep in my soul the strong delight, The hopes that in me rise, While Faith presents before my sight The bliss that never dies. Oh ! be those hopes my only boast, That faith my whole employ; Till faith in knowledge shall be lost, And hope in fullest joy. c 2 28 HYMNS. PART III. Where'er I turn my wakeful thought, Unnumber'd foes I see ; Guide of my youth, forsake me not, But lead me safe to Thee. As on I press, distrust and doubt Dissuasive step between ; While pleasures tempt me from without, And passions war within. Yet fix'd on Thee, I lose each fear, Each vain assault I brave ; I know Thee, Lord, not slow to hear, Nor impotent to save. Oh ! cast my errors from Thy sight, And let them pass away Unheeded, as a watch by night, Or as a cloud by day. So while, in secret thought arraign'd, O'er my past life I go, And mark how oft I urg'd Thy hand To strike th' avenging blow : So oft shall my repeated lays My thankful heart declare, And joy to celebrate Thy praise, Whose mercy deign'd to spare. HYMNS. , 29 ON THE WORKS OF CREATION. Beauty complete, and majesty divine, In all Thy works, ador'd Creator, shine. Where'er I cast my wond'ring eyes around, The God I seek in every part is found. Pursuing Thee, the flow'ry fields I trace, And read Thy name on ev'ry spire of grass. I follow Thee thro* many a lonely shade, And find Thee in the solitary glade. I meet Thee in the kind refreshing gale, That gently passes thro' the dewy vale. The pink, the jasmin, and the purple rose, Perfum'd by Thee, their flagrant leaves disclose, The feather'd choir, that welcome in the spring, By Thee were taught their various notes to sing. By Thee the Morning in her crimson vest And ornaments of golden clouds is drest. The Sun, in all his splendour, wears Thy beams, And drinks in light from Thy exhaustless streams. The Moon reveals Thee by her glimm'ring ray; Unnumber'd Stars Thy glorious paths display. Amidst the solemn darkness of the night, The thoughts of God my musing soul delight. Thick shades and night Thy dread pavilion form ; I n state Thou rid'st upon the flying storm ; While Thy strong hand its fiercest rage restrains, And holds the wild unmanag'd winds in reins. What sparklings of Thy majesty appear, When thro' the firmament swift lightnings glare 1 c3 30 HYMNS. When peals of thunder fill the skies around, I hear Thy voice in the tremendous sound. But, oh ! how small a part is known of Thee, From all Thy works 1 immense variety. Whatever mortal men perfection name, Thou, in an infinite degree, dost claim. And while I here Thy faintest shadows trace, I pine to see the glories of Thy face ; Where beauty, in its never-changing height And uncreated excellence, shines bright. When shall the heav'nly scene, without control, Open in dazzling triumph on my soul? My pow'rs, with all their ardour, shall adore, And languish for terrestrial charms no more. THE BIBLE. Hail sacred volume of eternal truth ! Thou staff of age ! thou guide of wand' ring youth ! Thou art the race which all that run shall win, Thou the sole shield against the darts of sin ; Thou giv'st the weary rest, the poor man wealth, Strength to the weak, and to the lazar health. Lead me, my King ! my Saviour ! and my God 1 Through all those paths thy sainted servants trod ! Teach me thy twofold nature to explore, Copy the human, the Divine adore. HYMNS. 31 To want with patience, to abound with fear, And walk between presumption and despair. Then shall thy blood wash out the stain of guilt, And not in vain, for me, even me, be spilt. VENI CREATOR SP1RITUS. Paraphrased by Dry den. Creator Spirit, by whose aid The world's foundations first were laid, Come visit every pious mind ; Come pour Thy joys on human kind ; From sin and sorrow set us free, And make Thy temples worthy Thee. source of uncreated light, The Father's promised Paraclete ! Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire, Our hearts with heavenly love inspire ; Come, and Thy sacred unction bring To sanctify us, while we sing. Plenteous of grace, descend from high, Rich in Thy sevenfold energy ! Thou strength of His almighty hand, Whose power does heaven and earth command, Proceeding Spirit, our defence, 1 Who dost the gift of tongues dispense, > And crown'st thy gift with eloquence, 5 vol. i. c 4 32 HYMNS. Refine and purge our earthly parts ; But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts ! Our frailties help, our vice control, Submit the senses to the soul ; And when rebellious they are grown, Then lay Thy hand, and hold them down. Chase from our minds the infernal foe, And peace, the fruit of love, bestow ; And lest our feet should step astray, Protect and guide us in the way. Make us eternal truths receive, And practise all that we believe : Give us Thyself, that we may see The Father, and the Son, by Thee. Immortal honour, endless fame, Attend the Almighty Father's name : The Saviour Son be glorified, Who for lost man's redemption died : And equal adoration be, Eternal Paraclete, to Thee. FOR A CHARITY SERMON.— J. Boivdler, Jun. God, from his throne above the skies, This darkling orb surveys ; And bids the sun in glory rise To cheer a guilty race. HYMNS. 33 Alike to court and lowly glen, Alike to friend and foe, Freely for all the sons of men, His daily bounties flow. Nor rich with mercies less divine, III Manuel's holy name, When, Heir and Lord of Judah's line, The great Deliverer came. No bounded love, no partial grace, The heavenly heralds sung; They told of joy to every race, Of praise in every tongue. For wide as ocean ranges round, And far as winds can rove, From Salem swell'd the solemn sound Of pardon, peace, and love. Oh ! then, while winged to Heaven in prayer Our grateful accents flow, For all the gifts we freel}* share, And all the hopes we know : Be our's the joy with ready zeal To hail a Father's will ; The love a Saviour felt to feel, The work he wrought fulfil. So through the earth shall mercy reign, And God, by mercy won, Receive his long-lost world again, The kingdom of his Son. c 5 34 HYMNS. THANKFULNESS.— J. Bawdier, Jun. Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice, From realm to realm the notes shall sound, And heaven's exulting sons rejoice To bear the full Hosanna round. When starting from the shades of night, At dread Jehovah's high behest, The sun array'd his limbs in light, And earth her virgin beauty dress'd ; Thy praise transported Nature sung In pealing chorus wide and far; The echoing vault with rapture rung, And shouted ev'ry morning star. When bending from His native sky, The Lord of Life in mercy came, And laid his bright effulgence by, To bear on earth a human name ; The song, by cherub voices raised, Roll'd through the dark blue depths above, And Israel's shepherds heard, amazed, The seraph notes of peace and love. And shall not man the concert join, For whom this bright creation rose; For whom the fires of morning shine, And eve's still lamps that woo repose ? HYMNS. 35 And shall not he the chorus swell, Whose form the incarnate Godhead wore ? Whose guilt, whose fears, whose triumphs tell How deep the wounds his Saviour bore! Long as yon glittering arch shall bend, Long as yon orbs in glory roll, Long as the streams of life descend, To cheer with hope the fainting soul ; Thy praise shall fill each grateful voice, Shall bid the song of rapture sound ; And heaven's exulting sons rejoice To bear the full Hosanna round. THE SABBATH.— J. Bowdler, Jun. When God from dust created man, Six days beheld the growing plan, Six days His power confess'd ; T .e seventh, in festal joy arrayed, His perfect work, well-pleased, surveyed The Almighty Sire, and bless'd. And, mindful of that solemn day, His grateful sons their homage pay Before the eternal throne ; With hymns of praise and pious prayer, His everlasting rest declare, And, joyful, wait their own. 36 HYMNS. For, not in vain, by twilight here, With many a doubt, and many a fear, Our pilgrim path we tread ; A little learn, a little do, Observe, discover, hope, pursue, — And mingle with the dead. Beyond the dark and stormy bound, That guards our dull horizon round, A lovelier vale extends ; Messiah rules in mercy there, And o'er His altar, bright in air, The morning star ascends. Oh ! holy seat of love and peace, The sounds of war and conflict cease, Within thy quiet reign ; And every flower of fairest hue, That once in favored Eden grew, Shall rise and bloom again. For Thee, the early patriarch sighed, Thy distant glory faint descried, And hailed the blest abode : A stranger here, he sought a home, Fixed in a city yet to come, The city of his God. And oft by Siloa's haunted stream, In heavenly trance, or holy dream, . To faithful Israel shewn, Triumphant over all her foes, The true, the living Salem rose, Jehovah's promised throne. HYMNS. 37 Yet, yet, a few short hours must run, And, God's unchanging purpose done, The immortal day shall dawn ; Even now on yonder mountains grey, Methinks, I see a wandering ray Proclaim the approaching morn. Come, Saviour, come, Creator Lord, Substantial Light, Eternal Word, Thy chosen seed redeem ; Awake, as in the elder time, And marshall all thy hosts sublime, And bid thy banner stream. And oh ! while yet we linger here, With promised grace descend and cheer Our doubtful path below ; That strong in faith, and warm with love, With steady aim our feet may move, Our grateful bosoms glow. LITANY. Saviour, when in dust to Thee Low we bend the adoring knee ; When, repentant, to the skies Scarce we lift our weeping eyes : Oh, by all thy pain and woe, (Suffered once for man below,) Bending from Thy throne on high, Hear our solemn Litany ! By Thy helpless infant years, By Thy life of want and tears, 38 HYMNS. By Thy days of sore distress In the savage wilderness ; By the dread mysterious hour Of the insulting tempter's power, Turn, oh turn, a favouring eye, Hear our solemn Litany ! By the sacred griefs that wept O'er the grave where Lazarus slept ; By the boding tears that flowed Over Salem's loved abode ; By the anguish'd sigh that told Treachery lurk'd within thy fold ; From thy seat above the sky Hear our solemn Litany ! By Thine hour of dire despair, By Thine agony of prayer, By the cross, the nail, the thorn, Piercing spear, and torturing scorn, By the gloom that veil'd the skies O'er the dreadful sacrifice ; Listen to our humble cry, Hear our solemn Litany ! By Thy deep expiring groan, By the sad sepulchral stone, By the vault, whose dark abode Held in vain the rising God ; Oh ! from earth to heaven restored, Mighty, re-ascended Lord, Listen, listen to the cry Of our solemn Litany ! HYMNS. 39 FROM RELIGIO CLERICI.— Mowm. Father, Redeemer, Comforter Divine ! This humble off'ring to Thy equal shrine Here Thy unworthy servant grateful pays Of undivided thanks, united praise, For all those mercies, which at birth began, And ceaseless flowed thro' life's long lengthened span ; Propt my frail frame thro' all the varied scene, With health enough for many a day serene ; Enough of science clearly to discern How few important truths the wisest learn ; Enough of arts ingenious to employ The vacant hours, when graver studies cloy ; Enough of wealth to serve each honest end, The poor to succour, or assist a friend ; Enough of faith in Scripture to descry, That the sure hope of immortality, Which only can the fear of death remove, Flows from the fountain of Redeeming Love. MORNING HYMN OF ADAM AND EVE. Milton. These are Thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty ; Thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair ; Thyself how wondrous then ! 40 HYMNS. Unspeakable, who sit'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen . In these thy lowest works, yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power Divine : Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels, for ye behold Him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle His throne rejoicing ; ye in heaven, On earth join all ye creatures to extol Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end. Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and soul, Acknowlege Him thy greater ; sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou falPst. Moon, that now meet' st the orient Sun, now fly'st With the fixt Stars, fixt in their orb that flies, And ye five other wandering Fires that move In mystic dance not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud: and wave your tops, ye Pines, With every Plant, in sign of worship wave. Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices all ye living Souls, ye Birds, That singing up to heaven's gate ascend, Bear on your wings, and in your notes, His 1 praise ; Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk HYMNS. 41 The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep ; Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, Made vocal by my song, and taught His praise ; Hail, universal Lord, be bounteous still To give us only good ; and if the night Have gather' d ought of evil, or conceal'd, Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark. PSALMS, OTHER PARTS OF SCRIPTURE, TRANSLATED OR IMITATED. FIRST PSALM IMITATED. Happy, ! happy is his state, Whose thoughts are always right ; Whose zeal the wicked ne'er abate, Whom no ill words delight: But who the law of God pursues, In all he thinks, in all he does ; And, only earnest to obey, Makes it his study night and day. Like some fair tree a brook beside, Whose waters nourish as they glide, And keep it ever green, Which blossoms cover in the spring, Which autumn's golden honors bring So shall this man be seen. 44 PSALMS. For God, in whom- he puts his trust, Is ever good, is ever just ; And will his righteous servant give, Tn constant peace and joy to live. But hapless is the sinner's fate ! Whose thoughts to error tend ; To whom examples laws create, Whom every wind can bend : Fictitious hope his fancy feeds ; He restless toils, yet ne'er succeeds ; But sees the prospects he design'd Dispers'd, like chaff before the wind. Such is the order here of things, Which from the wisest Being springs, That evil works in vain ; Goodness still draws its own reward, While those who wicked ends regard, Pursue and purchase pain. For high injustice and in might, God still to man dispenses right : Still to the good shall life supply, And let the stubborn sinner die. PSALM XIII— New Version. How long wilt thou forget me, Lord ? , Must I for ever mourn? How long; wilt Thou withdraw from me ? Oh ! never to return ? PSALMS. 45 How long shall anxious thoughts my soul, And grief my heart oppress ? How long my enemies insult, And I have no redress ? Oh, hear ! and to my longing eyes Restore thy wonted light ; And suddenly, or I shall sleep Tn everlasting nisrht. Then shall my song, with praise inspir'd, To thee my God ascend, Who to thy servant in distress Such bounty did'st extend. PSALM XV— New Version. Lord, who's the happy man, that may To Thy blest courts repair ; Not, stranger like, to visit them, But to inhabit there ? 'Tis He whose ev'ry thought and deed By rules of virtue moves ; Whose generous tongue disdains to speak The thing his heart disproves. Who never did a slander forge, His neighbour's fame to wound; Nor hearken to a false report, By malice whisper'd round. 46 PSALMS. Who vice, in all its pomp and pow'r, Can treat with just neglect ; And piety, though cloath'd in rags, Religiously respect. Who to his plighted vows and trust Has ever firmly stood : And, tho* he promise to his loss, Yet makes his promise good. The man, who, by this steady course, Has happiness ensur'd, When earth's foundation shakes, shall stand, By providence secur'd. PSALM XV.— Mason. Lord ! who may to thy love aspire, Or hope to join thy heavenly choir ; But he who rests on thee his trust, Whose thoughts are pure, his actions just, Whose word is truth, whose open heart Disdains the mean disguise of art ; Who, swift to praise, as slow to blame, Guards as his own his neighbour's fame. Despising earthly pomp and state, He knows the good alone are great. If danger wakes, or justice sleeps, Alike, if giv'n, his word he keeps. PSALMS. 4 7 No gains luxurious swell his hoard, No guiltless blood embrues his sword ; Whom no rewards to vice allure, He, walking wisely, walketh sure. PSALM XIX.— Addison. The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim : Th' unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's pow'r display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wond'rous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth : Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball ? What though no real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found ? 48 PSALMS. In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, For ever singing, as they shine, " The Hand that made us is Divine." PSALM XXIII.— Addison. The Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care : His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye ; My noon-day walks He shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend. When in the sultry glebe I faint, Or on the thirsty mountain pant ; To fertile vales and dewy meads My weary wand'ring steps He leads ; Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow, Amid the verdant landscape flow. Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, My stedfast heart shall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord, art with me still ; Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade. Though in a bare and rugged way, Through devious lonely wilds I stray, PSALMS. 49 Thy bounty shall my pains beguile, The barren wilderness shall smile, With sudden greens and herbage crown'd, And streams shall murmur all round. PSALM XXIII. PARAPHRASED. The Lord Jehovah doth my spirit keep, The great good Shepherd of the chosen sheep ; How then, alas ! how can I repine, When all that is, is Ch rist's, and Christ is mine ? Oft on my journey as I pant for rest, With hunger famish' d, and with thirst opprest; Far from the dusty whirl of care and strife, He gently leads me to the Word of Life : There on the arm of Faith my head reclin'd, In pleasant pastures sweet repose I find ; Where springs for evermore, from holy ground, Each herb for med'cine or for food renown'd ; A crystal stream, the solace of our woes, From God's high throne, thro' all those pastures flov s ; Of this world's lust to quench the burning heat, And all her sorrows make the soul forget. My Shepherd's love, O I how shall I repay ? Who first recall'd me, when I went astray ; From heav'n He came, and left the angels there, To seek and save me, lost in deserts drear ; For errors past, He paid the ransom down, And gave me wisdom, and a strength unknown, To find and keep the way that leads to glory's crown. D 50 PSALMS. What tho' betwixt us lies Death's shadowy vale, And clouds and darkness on the prospect dwell, The path I tread, my Saviour trod before, And that blest tree, which once His body bore, Firm grasp' d by Hope, is ever at my side, A rod to conquer, and a staff to guide. This shall conduct me thro' the dismal road, And place me glorious on the mount of God, Where heav'n's high King His table has prepared For those who, while on earth, His sorrows shar'd; Blest souls, who taste the mercies of the Lord, And drink delights from cups exhaustless pour'd ; Joy everlasting on their heads descends ! Behold, ye scorners, and despair, ye fiends. Come, dearest Lord, all-gracious Shepherd, come, And lead a poor lost sheep in safety home. O! let Thy watchful care my steps attend, 'Till this sad pilgrim's life shall have an end; Then, when the hand that gave, demands my breath, Crown all Thy mercies with a Christian death ; My soul to Sion's hill let angels bear, Amidst the flock redeemed to appear, And with the Shepherd Lamb abide for ever there. PSALMS. 51 PSALM XXIV.— J. Bowdler, Jun. Jehovah's throne is fix'd above, And bright through all the courts of love His cherub choirs appear: Ah! how shall man ascend so high, A feeble race condemn'd to die, The heirs of guilt and fear ! Shall towering strength, or eagle flight, Essay to win the sacred height By saint and seraph trod ? That living light, that holiest air, The guileless heart alone shall share, The pure behold their God. Yet think not that with fruitless pain, One tear shall drop, one sigh in vain Repentant swell thy breast ; See, see the great Redeemer come To bear his exiled children home, Triumphant to their rest. Even now, from earth's remotest end, Ten thousand thousand voices blend To bless the Saviour's power: Within Thy temple, Lord, we stand, With willing heart, a pilgrim band, And wait the promis'd hour. d2 52 PSALMS. Then high your golden portals raise, Ye everlasting gates of praise, Ye heavens the triumph share ; Messiah comes, with all His train, He comes to claim His purchas'd reign, And rest for ever there ! PSALM XXIX.— Merrick. Sing, ye sons of might, sing Praise to heaven's eternal King; Pow'r and strength to Him assign, And before His hallow'd shrine Yield the homage that His name From a creature's lips may claim. Hark ! His voice in thunder breaks Hush'd to silence, while He speaks, Ocean's waves from pole to pole Hear the awful accents roll : See, as louder yet they rise, Echoing through the vaulted skies, Loftiest cedars lie o'erthrown, Cedars of steep Lebanon. Now the bursting clouds give way, And the vivid lightnings play, And the wilds, by man untrod, He.ar, dismay'd, th' approaching God. Prostrate on the sacred floor, Israel's sons His name adore, PSALMS. 53 While His acts to every tongue Yield its argument of song. He the swelling surge commands; Fix'd His throne for ever stands; He "His people shall encrease, "Arm with strength, and bless with peace." PSALM XXXIV.— New Version. Thro' all the changing scenes of life, In trouble and in joy, The praises of my God shall still My heart and tongue employ. Of His deliv' ranee I will boast, Till all that are distrest, From my example, comfort take, And charm their griefs to rest. magnify the Lord with me ; With me exalt His name : When in distress to Him I call'd, fie to my rescue came. Oh, make but trial of His love, Experience will decide How bless'd they are, and only they, Who in His truth confide. Fear Him, ye saints, and ye will then Have nothing else to fear ; Make you His service your delight, Your wants shall be His care. d3 34 PSALMS. Deliverance to His saints he gives, When His relief they crave : He's nigh to heal the broken heart, And contrite spirit save. For God preserves the souls of those Who on His truth depend ; To them and their posterity His blessings shall descend. PSALM XXXIX.— Merrick. Where, Lord, shall I my refuge see ? On whom repose my hope but Thee ? purge my guilt, nor let my foe Exulting mock my heighten'd woe. Convinc'd that Thy paternal hand Inflicts but what my sins demand, 1 speechless sate : nor plaintive word, Nor murmur, from my lips was heard. But 0, in Thy appointed hour Withdraw Thy rod ; lest Nature's pow'r, While griefs on griefs my heart assail, Unequal to the conflict, fail. O, how Thy chastisements impair The human form, however fair ! How frail the strongest frame we see, If Thou the sinner's fate decree ! As when the fretting moths consume The labour of the curious loom, PSALMS. 55 The texture fails, the dyes decay, And all its lustre fades away : Such, man, thy state ; then, humbled, own That vanity and thou are one. To Thee, great God, my knees I bend ; To Thee my ceaseless prayers ascend ; let my sorrows reach thine ears, And mark my sighs, my groans, my tears. God of my fathers ! here, as they, 1 walk the pilgrim of a day ; A transient guest, Thy works admire, And instant to my home retire. spare me, Lord, awhile, spare, And Nature's ruin'd strength repair, E'er life's short circuit wander'd o'er, 1 perish, and am seen no more. PSALM XLII.— J. Bowdler, Jun. PART I. As panting in the sultry beam The hart desires the cooling stream, So to Thy presence, Lord, I flee, So longs my soul, God ! for Thee ; Athirst to taste Thy living grace, And see Thy glory face to face. But rising griefs distress my soul, And tears on tears successive roll : D 4 56 PSALMS. For many an evil voice is near To chide my woe, and mock my fear, And silent Memory weeps alone, O'er hours of peace and gladness flown. For I have walked the happy round That circles Sion's holy ground, And gladly swell'd the choral lays That hymn'd my great Redeemer's praise, What time the hallow'd arch along Responsive swell'd the solemn song. Ah ! why, by passing clouds oppress'd, Should vexing thoughts distract thy breast ? Turn, turn to Him, in every pain, Whom never suppliant sought in vain ; Thy strength, in joy's ecstatic day, Thy hope, when joy has pass'd away. PART II. God ! my heart within me faints, And pours in sighs her deep complaints. Yet many a thought shall linger still By Carmel's height and Tabor's rill, The Olive Mount my Saviour trod, The rocks that saw and own'd their God, The morning beam that wakes the skies, Shall see my matin incense rise ; PSALMS. 57 The ev'ning seraphs, as they rove, Shall catch the notes of joy and love, And sullen night, with drowsy ear, The still repeated anthem hear. My soul shall cry to Thee, Lord, To Thee, supreme incarnate Word, My rock and fortress, shield and friend, Creator, Saviour, source and end; And Thou wilt hear Thy servant's prayer, Though Death and Darkness speak despair. Ah ! why, by passing clouds oppress'd, Should vexing thoughts distract thy breast ? Turn, turn to Him in every pain, Whom never suppliant sought in vain ; Thy strength, in joy's ecstatic i ay, Thy hope, when joy has pass'd away. PSALM XL1I.— Dr. Cotton. With fierce desire the hunted hart Explores the cooling stream ; Mine is a passion stronger far, And mine a nobler theme. Yes, with superior fervors, Lord, I thirst to see Thy face ; My languid soul would fain approach The fountains of Thy grace. d5 58 PSALMS. Oh ! the great plenty o£ Thy house, The rich refreshments there ! To live an exile from Thy courts O'erwhelms me with despair. In worship when I join'd Thy saints, How sweetly pass'd my days ! Prayer my divine employment then, And all my pleasure praise. But now I 'm lost to every joy, Because detain'd from Thee ; Those golden periods ne'er return, Or ne'er return to me. Yet, my soul, why thus deprest, And whence this anxious fear ? Let former favours fix thy trust, And check the rising tear. When darkness lowr'd, when sorrows rose, And press'd on every side, Did not the Lord sustain thy steps, And was not God thy guide ? Affliction is a stormy deep, Where wave resounds to wave ; Tho' o'er my head the billows roll, I know the Lord can save. Perhaps, before the morning dawns, , He'll reinstate my peace ; For He, who bade the tempest roar, Can bid the tempest cease. PSALMS. 59 In the dark watches of the night I'll count His mercies o'er ; I'll praise Him for ten thousand past, And humbly sue for more. Then, my soul, why thus deprest, And whence this anxious fear ? Let former favours fix thy trust, And check the rising tear. Here will I rest, and build my hopes, Nor murmur at His rod ; He's more than all the world to me, My health, my life, my God ! PSALM XLIX. IMITATED. With musings sad my spirit teems, My harp is strung to saddest themes ; O mortal, hear its notes complain, Nor shun a dark but faithful strain, Whose simple length, tho' short, shall span The mournful history of man. Behold, where prosp'rous and elate The rich upbuilds his haughty state, Adds field to field, and tower to tower, And flames, the meteor of an hour, — While poor, neglected, and forlorn, The just in humble silence mourn. 60 PSALMS. Yet envy not that pomp, ye just, Which leans upon a base of dust ; For 0, when Death, decreed, shall come To shake the proud man's lofty dome, Will profTer'd wealth avail to save, Or ransoms bribe the ruthless grave > Lo, streteh'd before his aching eyes, A child, a wife, a brother lies : His eager anxious cares in vain The fleeting spirit would retain * The form he clasps, resigns its breath, And fills his blank embrace with death ! Again it strikes, — a second blow, — The man of pride himself is low ! Shall wealth, shall state attend the dead ? 'Tis only to his clay-cold bed ; Carest by crouds, by hundreds known, He fills the narrow house alone. The funeral pomp returning slow— The fading pageantry of woe — The gorgeous tomb — the solemn toll — Can these delight the parted soul ? Or will remember'd grandeur cheer The shivering, lonely traveller ? And when that breathless wasting clay Again shall feel the life-blood play ; When on the cell where dark it lies A morn of piercing light shall rise ; Ah, whither then will guilt retire, Or how sustain the eyes of fire ? PSALMS. 61 Oh, man ! with Heaven's own honours bright, And fall'st thou thus, thou child of light ? And still shall heirs on heirs anew The melancholy jest pursue, And, horn the offspring of the sky, In folly live, in darkness die ? But I on Thee depend, Lord, My hope, my help, and high reward ! Thy word illumes my feeble eyes, Thy Spirit all my strength supplies ; In sickness Thou my aid shalt be, And death but gives me all to Thee ! PART OF THE LXXXIVth PSALM IMITATED. How deep the joy, Almighty Lord, Thy altars to the heart afford ! With envying eyes I see The swallow fly to nestle there, And find within the house of pray'r A bliss denied to me ! Compell'd, by day, to roam for food Where scorching suns or tempests rude Their angry influence fling, O, gladly in that shelter'd nest She smooths, at eve, her ruffled breast, And folds her weary wing. 62 PSALMS. Thrice happy wand'rer ! .fain would I, Like thee, from ruder climates fly, That seat of rest to share ; Opprest with tumult, sick with wrongs, How oft my fainting spirit longs To lay its sorrows there ! ever on that holy ground, The cov' ring-cherub Peace is found, With brooding wings serene : And Charity's seraphic glow, And gleams of glory that foreshow A higher brighter scene. For ev'n that refuge but bestows A transient, tho' a sweet, repose For one short hour allow'd : — Then upwards we shall take our flight To hail a spring without a blight,- A heav'n without a cloud ! PSALM LXXXIV.— Merrick. How sweet Thy dwellings, Lord, how fail What peace, what bliss, inhabit there ! With ardent hope, with strong desire, My heart, my flesh, to Thee aspire ; I burn to tread Thy courts, and Thee My God, the living God, to see. PSALMS. 63 Eternal King, within Thy dome The sparrow finds her peaceful home ; With her the dove, a licensed guest, Assiduous tends her infant nest, And to Thy altar's sure defence Commits th' unfeather'd innocence. Blest, who, like these, from day to day, Within Thy house permitted stay, Whose joyous tongue Thy mercies raise To hymns of gratitude and praise. Blest, who, their strength on Thee reclin'd, Thy seat explore with constant mind, And, Salem's distant tow'rs in view, With active zeal their way pursue ! Secure the thirsty vale they tread, While call'd from out their sandy bed, (As down in grateful show'rs distill'd The heav'ns their kindliest moisture yield,) The copious springs their steps beguile, And bid the cheerless desert smile. From stage to stage advancing still, Behold them reach fair Sion's hill, And, prostate at her hallow'd shrine, Adore the Majesty divine. PSALM XCI1L With glory clad, with strength array'd, The Lord that o'er all nature reigns, The world's foundation strongly laid, And the vast fabric still sustains. 64 PSALMS. How surely 'stablish'd is Thy throne ! Which shall no change of period see, For thou, O Lord, and thou alone, Art God from all eternity. The floods, O Lord, lift up their voice, And toss the troubled waves on high ; But God above can still their noise; And make the angry sea comply. Thy promise, Lord, is ever sure ; But they that in Thy house would dwell, That happy station to secure, Must still in holiness excel. PSALM XCV. come, loud anthems let us sing, Loud thanks to our Almighty King ; For we our voices high should raise, When our Salvation's Rock we praise. Into His presence let us haste, To thank him for his favours past ; To Him address, in joyful songs, The praise that to His name belongs. For God the Lord, enthroned in state, ,1s, with unrival'd glory, great ; A King superior far to all Whom gods the heathens falsely call. PSALMS. 65 let us to His courts repair, And bow with adoration there, Down on our knees devoutly all Before the Lord our Maker fall. PSALM C. With one consent, let all the earth To God their cheerful voices raise, Glad homage pay with awful mirth, And sing before Him songs of praise : Convinced that He is God alone, From whom both we and all proceed ; We, whom He chuses for His own, The flock that He vouchsafes to feed. enter then His temple gate, Thence to His courts devoutly press, And still your grateful hymns repeat, And still His name with praises bless. For He's the Lord supremely good, His mercy is for ever sure ; His truth, which always firmly stood, To endless ages shall endure. 66 PSALMS. PSALM C. Joyful, ye nations, sing! Come, and songs of gladness bring ; Cheerful service, thankful lays ; Come before the Lord with praise. He is God, the King of kings, Who to all created things Being gave ; our Shepherd He ; We His sheep, His people we ! Come then, to His courts repair, Come, and enter gladly there ; With true hearts and solemn songs, Praise Him to whom praise belongs. Well may we His praise proclaim, Goodness is His nature's name ; Mercy never leaves His throne ; Truth, God, is all thy own, Truth, Mercy, Goodness, Lord, are thine Eternal all, and all Divine ! PSALM C. Before Jehovah's awful throne, , Ye nations, bow with sacred joy; Know that the Lord is God alone, He can create, and He destroy. PSALMS. 67 His sovereign power, without our aid, Made us of clay, and form'd us men ; And when, like wand'ring sheep, we stray'd, He brought us to his fold again. We'll crowd thy gates with thankful songs, High as the heav'ns our voices raise ! And earth with her ten thousand tongues Shall fill thy courts with endless praise. Wide, as the world, is Thy command, Vast as eternity Thy love, Firm as a rock Thy truth shall stand, When rolling years shall cease to move. PSALM CIII. My soul, inspir'd with sacred love, God's holy Name for ever bless ; Of all His favours mindful prove, And still thy grateful thanks express. 'Tis He that all thy sins forgives, And after sickness makes thee sound ; From danger He thy life retrieves, By Him with grace and mercy crown'd. The Lord abounds with tender love, And unexampled acts of grace ; His wakened wrath does slowly move, His willing mercy flows apace. 68 PSALMS. As high as heav'n its arch extends Above this little spot of clay ; So much His boundless love transcends The small respects that we can pay. As far as 'tis from east to west, So far has He our sins remov'd ; Who, with a Father's tender breast, Has such as fear Him always lov'd. PSALM CXIV. VERSIFIED.— Watts. When Israel, freed from Pharaoh's hand, Left the proud tyrant and his land ; The tribes with cheerful homage own Their King, and Judah was His throne. Across the deep their journey lay, The deep divides to make them way ; The streams of Jordan saw, and fled With backward current to their head. The mountains shook like frighted sheep, Like lambs the little hillocks leap ; Not Sinai on her base could stand, Conscious of sov'reign power at hand. What pow'r could make the deep divide ? Make Jordan backward roll his tide ? W T hy did ye leap, ye little hills ? And whence the fright that Sinai feels ? PSALMS. 69 Let ev'ry mountain, ev'ry flood Retire, and know th' approaching God; The King of Israel : see Him here ; Tremble, thou earth, adore and fear. He thunders, and all nature mourns ; The rock to standing pools He turns ; Flints spring with fountains at His word, And fires and seas confess their Lord. PSALM CXXI.— J. Bowdler, Jun. To heaven I lift mine eye, To heaven, Jehovah's throne ; For there my Saviour sits on high, And thence shall strength and aid supply To all He calls His own. He will not faint nor fail, Nor cause thy feet to stray ; For Him no weary hours assail, Nor evening darkness spreads her veil O'er His eternal day. Beneath that light divine Securely shalt thou move ; The sun with milder beams shall shine, And eve's still queen her lamps incline Benignant from above. 70 PSALMS. For He, thy God and Friend, Shall keep thy soul from harm, In each sad scene of doubt attend, And guide thy life, and guard thine end. With His Almighty arm. PSALM CXXII.— Merrick. The festal morn, my God, is come, That calls me to Thy honour'd dome, Thy presence to adore : My feet the summons shall attend, With willing step thy courts ascend, And tread the hallow'd floor. E'en now, to our transported eyes, Fair Sion's towers in prospect rise ; Within her gates we stand ; And, lost in wonder and delight, Behold her happy sons unite In friendship's firmest band. Hither from Judah's utmost end The Heav'n-protected tribes ascend ; Their off'rings hither bring ; Here, eager to attest their joy, In hymns of praise their tongues employ, And hail th' immortal King. By His command impell'd, to her Contending crouds their cause refer ; While princes, from her throne, PSALMS. 71 With equal doom th' unerring law Dispense, who boast their birth to draw From Jesse's favour'd son. Be peace by each implor'd on thee, O Salem, while with bended knee To Jacob's God we pray : How blest, who calls himself thy friend ! Success his labour shall attend, And safety guard his way. O may'st thou, free from hostile fear, Nor the loud voice of Tumult hear, Nor War's wild wastes deplore : May Plenty nigh thee take her stand, And in thy courts with lavish hand Distribute all her store. Seat of my friends and brethren, hail ! How can my tongue, Salem, fail To bless thy lov'd abode ? How cease the zeal that in me glows Thy good to seek, whose walls inclose The mansion of my God ? PSALM CXXIII.— J. Bowdler, Jun. Lord, before Thy throne we bend, Lord, to Thee our eyes ascend ; Servants to our Master true, Lo, we yield Thee homage due ; Children, to our Sire we fly, Abba, Father, hear our cry ! 72 PSALMS. To the dust our knees we bow ; We are weak, but mighty Thou ; Sore distress'd, yet suppliant still, We await Thy holy will : Bound to earth and rooted here Till our Saviour God appear. From the heavens, Thy dwelling place, Shed, shed, Thy pardoning grace, Turn to save us : — none below Pause to hear our silent woe ; Pleased or sad, a thoughtless throng, Still they gaze and pass along. Leave us not beneath the power Of temptation's darkest hour ; Swift to seal their captive's doom, See our foes exulting come : Jesus, Saviour, yet be nigh, Lord of Life and Victory ! PSALM CXXVIII.— Mason. That man enjoys his Maker's smile, Who humble, just, and good, Contented sees his daily toil Procure him daily food. His wife, like the prolific vine With luscious grapes o'erspread, Whose branches o'er his mansion twine, Shall bless his nuptial bed ; PSALMS. 73 His children, like the olives green, Shall bloom his board around, While, at their head, he sits serene, With bliss paternal crown'd. His race, a long progressive train, Through ages shall increase, And, bless v d by Sion's God, remain Possess'd of Israel's peace. PSALM CXXX.— Mason. Sunk in the deep abyss of woe, To Thee, my God ! 1 cry ; O, while my contrite tears o'erflow, In pity bend Thine eye ! For when Thy justice sternly frowns, Who may behold and live ? But mercy mild that justice crowns, And Mercy must forgive. Thence, with firm faith and holy fear, All impious doubts withdrawn, I wait Thy saving grace to share, As watchmen wait the dawn. That faith, that fear, through Israel spread, Shall dart a cheerful ray, Till full redemption, o'er his head, Diffuse eternal day. 74 PSALMS. PSALM CXXXVII.— Mason. Captives of Babylon, we sought the vale, Where broad Euphrates rolls in crystal state, Hung our mute harps upon its poplars pale, And sat, dear Sion, weeping o'er thy fate ! While our proud victors, in opprobrious vein, Cry'd, " Slaves arise ! your silent lyres resume, And swell your voices with that choral strain, Which echo'd sweet in Sion's ruin'd dome !" What ! to an alien' ear, an alien clime, Shall we repeat Jehovah's hallow'd song ? Ah ! sooner than profane that lay sublime, Cleave to its roots each fibre of our tongue ; Forget, my hand, each warbling chord to sweep, So prompt thy modulating powers to own, Or ere my soul neglects her vows to keep, To sing in Salem's sacred courts alone. O think, great God, on Salem's fatal hour, When hemm'd around by Edom's impious race! They cried, as they beheld each falling tower, " Raze, instant raze it, to its central base !" Blest be that future foe, by justice led, Who Israel's woes repeats in Edom's fall, Wreaks all her wrongs on Babylon's proud head, And flings her children 'gainst the shatter'd wall. PSALMS. 75 PSALM CXXXIX.— iVeu; Version. Thou, Lord, by strictest search hast known My rising up, and lying down ; My secret thoughts are known to Thee, Known long before conceiv'd by me. Thine eye my bed and path surveys, My public haunts and private ways ; Thou know'st what 'tis my lips would vent, My yet unutter'd words' intent. Surrounded by Thy pow'r I stand, On every side I find Thy hand. O skill, for human reach too high ! Too dazzling bright for mortal eye ! O could I so perfidious be, To think of once deserting Thee : Where, Lord, could I Thy influence shun ? Or whither from thy presence run ? If I should try to shun Thy sight Beneath the sable wings of night ; One glance from Thee, one piercing ray, Would kindle darkness into day. Search me, God, my thoughts and heart, If mischief lurk in any part ; Correct me where I go astray, And guide me in Thy perfect way. e2 76 PSALMS. PSALM CXLII.— New Version. To God with mournful voice In deep distress I pray'd ; Made Him the umpire of my cause, My wrongs before him laid. I look'd, but found no friend To own me in distress ; All refuge fail'd, no man vouchsaf 'd His pity or redress. To God at last I pray'd, Thou, Lord, my refuge art, My portion in the land of life, Till life itself depart. Reduc'd to greatest straits, To Thee I make my moan, O ! save me from oppressing foes, For me too pow'rful grown. That 1 may praise thy name, My soul from prison bring ; Whilst of Thy kind regard to me, Assembled saints shall sing. PSALMS. 77 PSALM CXLVIII.—Dr. Ogilvie. Begin, my soul, th' exalted lay, Let each enraptur'd thought obey, And praise th' Almighty's name. Lo ! heaven and earth, and seas and skies, In one melodious concert rise, To swell th' inspiring theme. Ye fields of light, celestial plains, Where gay transporting beauty reigns, Ye scenes divinely fair ; Your Maker's wond'rous power proclaim, Tell how He form'd your shining frame, And breath'd the fluid air. Ye angels, catch the thrilling sound; While all th' adoring thrones around His boundless mercy sing; Let ev'ry list'ning saint above Wake all the tuneful soul of love, And touch the sweetest string. Join, ye loud spheres, the vocal choir ; Thou, dazzling orb of liquid fire, The mighty chorus aid : Soon as grey ev'ning gilds the plain, Thou moon, protract the melting strain, And praise Him in the shade. K3 78 PSALMS/ Thou, heaven of heavens, His vast abode ; Ye clouds, proclaim your forming God, Who call'd yon worlds from night ; " Ye shades, dispel !"— th' Eternal said ; At once th' involving darkness fled, And nature sprung to light. Whatever a blooming world contains, That wings the air, that skims the plains, United praise bestow ; Ye dragons, sound His awful name To heav'n aloud ; and roar acclaim, Ye swelling deeps below. Let every element rejoice : Ye thunders, burst with awful voice To Him who bids you roll ; Ye stormy winds, a chorus raise, Ye balmy zephyrs, breathe His praise In whispers to the soul. To Him, ye graceful cedars, bow; Ye tow'ring mountains, bending low, Your great Creator own ; Tell, when affrighted nature shook, How Sinai kindled at His look, And trembled at His frown. Ye flocks, that haunt the humble vale, Ye insects, flutt'ring on the gale, Some grateful off' ring pay; Join the great hymn, ye warbling throng, To Him awake the heavenly song, And tune the melting lay. PSALMS. 79 Let man, by nobler passions sway'd, The feeling heart, the judging head In heavenly praise employ ; Spread His tremendous name around, Till heaven's broad arch rings back the sound, The general burst of joy. Ye, whom the charms of grandeur please, Nurs'd on the downy lap of ease, Fall prostrate at His throne : Ye princes, rulers, all adore ; Praise Him, ye kings, who makes your power An image of His own. Ye fair, by nature form'd to move, O praise th' eternal source of love, With youth's enlivening fire : Let age take up the tuneful lay, Sigh His bless'd name — then soar away, And ask an angel's lyre. PSALM CL.— Merrick. Praise, praise, the name divine; Praise it at the hallow'd shrine ; Let the firmament on high To its Maker's praise reply : Let His acts and pow'r supreme To your songs suggest a theme : Be the harp no longer mute ; Sound the trumpet, touch the lute ; e 4 SO PSALMS. Wake to life each tuneful string ; Bring the pipe, the timbrel bring ; Let the organ in His praise Learn its loudest note to raise, And the cymbal's varying sound From the vaulted roof rebound. All who vital breath enjoy, In His praise that breath employ, And in one great chorus join; Praise, O praise, the name divine. FROM A PARAPHRASE ON PART OF THE BOOK OF JOB.-— Young. Thrice happy Job long liv'd in regal state, Nor saw the sumptuous East a prince so great, Whose worldly stores in such abundance flow'd, Whose heart with such exalted virtue glow'd. At length, misfortunes take their turn to reign, And ills on ills succeed; a dreadful train ! W T hat now but deaths, and poverty, and wrong, The sword wide-wasting, the reproachful tongue, And spotted plagues, that mark'd his limbs all o'er So thick with boils, there wanted room for more ? A change so sad what mortal heart could bear ? Exhausted woe had left him nought to fear ; But gave him all to grief. Low earth he prest, Wept in the dust, and sorely smote his breast. PSALMS. 81 His friends around the deep affliction mourn'd, Felt all his pangs, and groan for groan return'd: In anguish of their hearts their mantles rent, And seven long days in solemn silence spent: A debt of rev'rence to distress so great ! Then Job contain'd no more ; but curs VI his fate, His day of birth, — its inauspicious light, He wishes sunk in shades of endless night, And blotted from the year ; nor fears to crave Death, instant death; impatient for the grave. His words were daring, and displeased his friends ; His conduct they reprove, and he defends : So high, at length, their arguments were wrought, They reach'd the last extent of human thought : A pause ensu'd. — When, lo! Heav'n interpos'd, And awfully the long contention clos'd. Full o'er their heads, with terrible surprise, A sudden whirlwind blacken'd all the skies : (They saw, and trembled!) From the darkness broke A dreadful voice, and thus th' Almighty spoke : " Who gives his tongue a loose so bold and vain, " Censures my conduct, and reproves my reign ? " Can thine arm measure with an arm divine ? " And can'st thou thunder with a voice like mine ? " Of late so brave, now lift a dauntless eye, " Face my demand, and give it a reply: " Where didst thou dwell at nature's early birth? " Who laid foundations for the spacious earth? " Who on its surface did extend the line, " Its form determine, and its bulk confine? e 5 82 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. " Who fix'd the corner-stone? What hand, de- clare, " Hung it on nought, and fasten'd it on air? " When the bright morning stars in concert sung, " When heavVs high arch with loud Hosannas rung, " When shouting sons of God the triumph crown' d, " And the wide concave thunder'd with the sound ? " Who, stretching forth his sceptre o'er the deep, " Can that wild world in due subjection keep? " I broke the globe, I scoop'd its hollow'd side, " And did a bason for the floods provide ; " 1 chain'd them with my word ; the boiling sea, " Work'd up in tempests, hears my great decree ; " " Thus far, thy floating tide shall be convey'd ; " ' And here, O main, be thy proud billows stay'd.' " Who taught the rapid winds to fly so fast, " Or shakes the centre with his eastern blast ? " Who from the skies can a whole deluge pour ? " Who strikes through nature with the solemn roar " Of dreadful thunder, points it where to fall, " And in fierce lightning wraps the flying ball ? " Not he who trembles at the darted fires, " Falls at the sound, and in the flash expires. " Who did the soul with her rich pow'rs invest, " And light up reason in the human breast ? " To shine with fresh increase of luster bright; " When stars and sun are set in endless night ? SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. 83 " To these my various questions make reply." Th' Almighty spoke; and, speaking, shook the sky. What then, Chaldaean Sire, was thy surprise ! Thus thou, with trembling heart, and downcast eyes : " Once and again, which I in groans deplore, " My tongue has err'd ; but shall presume no more. " Thou canst accomplish all things, Lord of might: 11 And every thought is naked to Thy sight. " But, oh! Thy ways are wonderful, and lie " Beyond the deepest reach of mortal eye. " Oft have I heard of Thine Almighty Pow'r, * But never saw Thee till this dreadful hour. " O'erwhelm'd with shame, the Lord of Life I see, " Abhor myself, and give my soul to Thee : " Nor shall my weakness tempt Thine anger more : " Man is not made to question, but adore." DAVID'S LAMENTATION FOR THE DEATH OF SAUL AND JONATHAN. Mourn, Israel, mourn, on Gilboa's lofty plain, Thy honours blasted and thy heroes slain. How are the mighty fallen ! his country's pride, Great Saul, by impious hands ignobly died. 84 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. Let none in Gath the mournful tidings tell, Nor Ascol hear how Israel's glory fell, Lest proud Philistia, with exulting voice, At our distress, in barbarous songs rejoice. Ill-fated Gilboa ! may henceforth no rains, No fostering dews, e'er fertilize thy plains ! No more thy pastures fat oblations bring, — For there the shield of our anointed king, The shield of Saul, was vilely cast away ; His arms, like vulgar spoils, neglected lay. Jonathan, how oft the slaughter'd foe Stain'd with his gore the arrow from thy bow ! Ne'er did thy weapon ineffectual fall, Nor e'er, undrench'd with blood, the sword of Saul. Thro' life we saw the sire and honoured son In friendship's sacred bonds united run ; And oh ! in death each weeping friend shall tell, How both, too fatally united, fell. In war and peace they shared an equal fame, Their courage and their active strength the same. Not lions in their rage more strength display, For swifter darts the eagle on his prey. Nor Saul, in sable weeds, ye damsels, mourn, Who oft with spoils, from captive princes torn, With chains of gold, or bracelets, deck'd your arms, And grac'd with purple robes your native charms. SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. 85 " How are the mighty fallen !" on Gilboa's plain Young Jonathan, the pride of war, was slain. O Jonathan, my friend, for thee distress'd, As for a brother, bleeds my tortur'd breast. In all my joys thy friendship bore a part ; In all my griefs, thy sympathetic heart. Thy love to me more tenderness display' d, Than for her lover feels the amorous maid. " How are the mighty falPn !" O Saul, how vain Is all the pomp of war, since thou art slain ! THE SEVENTH CHAPTER OF PROVERBS. By Mr. Pope. My son, th' instruction that my words impart 'Grave on the living tablet of thy heart; And all the wholesome precepts that I give Observe with strictest reverence, and live. Let all thy homage be to Wisdom paid, Seek her protection, and implore her aid; That she may keep thy soul from harm secure, And turn thy footsteps from the harlot's door; Who, with curs'd charms, lures the unwary in, And soothes with flattery their souls to sin. Once, from my window, as I cast mine eye On those that passed in giddy numbers by, A youth among the foolish youths I spy'd, Who took not sacred Wisdom for his guide. 86 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED^ Just as the sun withdrew his cooler light, And evening soft led on the shades of night, He stole in covert twilight to his fate, And pass'd the corner near the harlot's gate; "When lo, a woman comes! ' Loose her attire, and such her glaring dress, As aptly did the harlot's mind express ; Subtle she is, and practis'd in the arts, By which the wanton conquer heedless hearts : Stubborn and loud she is; she hates her home, Varying her place and form, she loves to roam ; Now she's within, now in the street does stray, Now at each corner stands, and waits her prey. The youth she seiz'd ; and laying now aside All modesty, the female's justest pride, She said, with an embrace, Here at my house Peace-offerings are, this day I paid my vows. I therefore came abroad to meet my dear, And, lo ! in happy hour, T find thee here. My chamber I've adorn'd, and o'er my bed Are coverings of the richest tap'stry spread ; With linen it is deck'd, from Egypt brought, And carvings by the curious artist wrought : It wants no glad perfume Arabia yields, In all her citron groves, and spicy fields ; Here all her store of richest odours meets, I'll lay thee in a wilderness of sweets ; — Whatever to the sense can grateful be,. I have collected there. 1 want but Thee. My husband's gone a journey far away, Much' gold he took abroad, and long will stay ; He nam'id for his return a distant day. SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. $7 Upon her tongue did such smooth mischief dwell, And from her lips such welcome flatt'ry fell, Th' unguarded youth, in silken fetters ty'd, Resign'd his reason, and with ease comply'd. Thus does the ox to his own slaughter go, And thus is senseless of th* impending blow. Thus flies the simple bird into the snare, That skilful fowlers for his life prepare. But let my sons attend. Attend may they, Whom youthful vigour may to sin betray : Let them false charmers fly, and guard their hearts Against the wily wanton*s pleasing arts ; With care direct their steps, nor turn astray, To tread the paths of her deceitful way ; Lest they, too late, of her fell power complain, And fall where many mightier have been slain. ECCLESIASTES, CHAP. XII. What though the almond-tree be silver'd o'er, And trembling stand the keepers of the door ; The strong men bow themselves ; the grinders cease ; And fears alarm, when all abroad is peace : Though yon bright sun no longer can delight ; Unfelt its influence, as debarr'd its sight; Though the light grasshopper a burden grows, And the small wren can rob thee of repose ; 88 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. Desire all fled ; music no joy afford ; Just broke the golden bowl ; just loos'd the silver cord; Yet patience, resignation, still are thine ; Through the dark eye-ball heav'n-born faith may shine, A lamp to lighten others on their way, And cheer them onward to the realms of day ; Too late the rules of living to supply, The hoary head should teach us how to die. ISAIAH, CHAP. XL. Verse vii. and vin. Rev, S. Wesley. The morning flowers display their sweets, And gay their silken leaves unfold ; As careless of the noon-day heats, And fearless of the evening cold. Nipp'd by the wind's unkindly blast, Parch' d by the sun's directer ray, The momentary glories waste, The short-liv'd beauties fade away. So blooms the human face divine, When youth its pride of beauty shows ; Fairer than spring the colours shine, And sweeter than the virgin rose. SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. 89 Or worn by slowly rolling years, Or broke by sickness in a day, The fading glory disappears, The short-liv'd beauties die away. But these, new rising from the tomb, With lustre brighter far shall shine, Revive with ever-during bloom, Sate from diseases and decline. Let sickness blast, and death devour, If Heaven will recompense our pains ; Perish the grass, and fade the flow'r, If firm the word of God remains ! THE BEXEDICITE PARAPHRASED.- hhrrick. Ye works of God, on Him alone, In earth His footstool, heaven His throne, Be all your praise bestow'd ! Whose hand the beauteous fabric made, Whose eye the finish'd work surveyed, And saw that all was good. Ye angels that, with loud acclaim, Admiring view'd the new-born frame, And hail'd th' eternal King; Again proclaim your Maker's praise, Again your thankful voices raise, And touch the tuneful string. 90 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. Praise Him, ye bless'd etherial plains, . Where, in full Majesty, he deigns To fix his awful throne ; Ye waters, that around Him roll, From orb to orb, from pole to pole, Oh ! make His praises known ! Ye thrones, dominions, virtues, pow'rs, Join ye your joyful songs with ours, With us your voices raise ; From age to age extend the lay, To heav'n's eternal Monarch pay Hymns of eternal praise. Celestial orb ! — whose pow'rful ray Opes the glad eyelids of the day. Whose influence all things own ; 1 Praise Him, whose courts effulgent shine With light, as far excelling thine, As thine the paler moon. Ye glittering planets of the sky, W T hose lamps the absent sun supply, With him the song pursue ; And let himself submissive own, He borrows from a brighter Sun The light he lends to you. Ye show'rs and dews, whose moisture shed Calls into life the op'ning seed, To Him your praises yield ; Whose influence wakes the genial birth, Drops fatness on the pregnant earth, And crowns the laughing field. SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. 91 Ye winds, that oft tempestuous sweep The ruffled surface of the deep, With us confess your God ; See, through the heav'ns, the King of kings, Upborne on your expanded wings, Comes flying all abroad. Ye floods of fire, where'er ye flow, With just submission humbly bow To His superior pow'r, Who stops the tempest on its way, Or bids the flaming deluge stay, And gives it strength to roar. Ye summer's heat and winter's cold, By turns in long succession roll'd, The drooping world to cheer ; Praise Him, who gave the sun and moon To lead the various seasons on, And guide the circling year. Ye frosts, that bind the wat'ry plain, Ye silent show'rs of fleecy rain, Pursue the heav'nly theme ; Praise Him, who sheds the driving snow, Forbids the harden' d waves to flow, And stops the rapid stream. Ye days and nights, that swiftly born, From morn to eve, from eve to morn, Alternate glide away ; Praise Him, whose never-varying light, Absent, adds horror to the night, But present gives the day. 92 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. Light, — from whose rays all beauty springs ; Darkness, — whose wide-expanded wings Involve the dusky globe; Praise Him, who, when the heavens He spread. Darkness His thick pavilion made, And light His regal robe. Praise Him, ye lightnings, as ye fly, Wing'd with his vengeance through the sky, And red with wrath divine ; Praise Him, ye clouds, that wand'ring stray, Or fix'd by Him in close array, Surround his awful shrine. Exalt, earth ! thy heav'nly King, Who bids the plants, that form the spring, With annual verdure bloom ; Whose frequent drops of kindly rain Prolific swell the rip'ning grain, And bless thy fertile womb. Ye mountains, that ambitious rise, And heave your summits to the skies, Revere His awful nod ; Think how you once affrighted fled, When Jordan sought his fountain head, And own'd th' approaching God. Ye trees, that fill the rural scene, Ye flowers, that o'er th' enamell'd green In native beauty reign ; C) ! praise the Ruler of the skies, Whose hand the genial sap supplies, And clothes the smiling plain. SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. 93 Ye secret springs, ye gentle rills, That murm'ring rise among the hills, Qr fill the humble vale ; Praise Him, at whose almighty nod The rugged rock dissolving flow'd, And form'd a springing well. Praise Him, ye floods and seas profound, Whose waves the spacious earth surround, And roll from shore to shore ; Aw'd by His voice, ye seas, subside, Ye floods, within your channels glide, And tremble and adore. Y r e whales, that stir the boiling deep, Or in its dark recesses sleep Remote from human eye ; Praise Him, by whom ye all are fed, Praise Him, without whose heav'nly aid Ye languish, faint, and die. Y'e birds, exalt your Maker's name, Begin, and with th' important theme Your artless lays improve ; Wake with your songs the rising day, Let music sound on every spray, And fill the vocal grove. Praise Him, ye beasts, that nightly roam Amid the solitary gloom, Th' expected prey to seize ; Ye slaves of the laborious plough, Your stubborn necks submissive bow, And bend your weary'd knees. 94 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. Ye sons of men, His praise display, Who stampt His image 'on your clay, And gave it pow'r to move ; Ye that in Judah's confines dwell, From age to age successive tell The wonders of his love. Let Levi's tribe the lay prolong, 'Till angels listen to the song, And bend attentive down ; Let wonder seize the heav'nly train, Pleas'd, while they hear a mortal strain. So sweet, so like their own. And you, your thankful voices join, That oft at Salem's sacred shrine, Before His altars kneel ; Where thron'd in majesty He dwells, And from the mystic clouds reveals The dictates of His will. Ye spirits of the just and good, That, eager for the blest abode, To heavenly mansions soar ; O ! let your songs His praise display, 'Till heav'n itself shall melt away, And time shall be no more. Praise Him, ye meek and humble train, Ye saints, whom His decrees ordain The boundless bliss to share ; O,! praise Him, 'till ye take your way To regions of eternal day, And reign for ever there. SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. 95 Let us, who now impassive stand, Aw'd by the tyrant's stern command Amid the fiery blaze ; While thus we triumph in the flame, Rise, and our Maker's love proclaim In hymns of endless praise. PARAPHRASE OF THE LORD'S PRAYER. Father of all ! Eternal Mind, In uncreated light enshrined, Supremely good and great ! Thy children formed and blest by Thee, With filial love and homage, we In low prostration wait. Thy Name-in hallowed strains be sung, Let every heart and every tongue The solemn choir combine ; In loving, serving, praising Thee, We find our chief felicity, But cannot add to Thine. Thy righteous, mild, and sovereign reign, Throughout creation's ample plain, Let every being own. Lord, in our hearts, where passions rude, With fierce tumultuous rage, intrude, Erect Thy peaceful throne. 96 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. As angels round Thy seat above, With joyful haste and ardent love, Thy blest commands fulfil ; So let Thy creatures here below, As far as Thou hast giv'n to know, Perform Thy sacred will. On Thee we day by day depend, Our being's Author, and its end ; Our daily wants supply : With healthful meat our bodies fed, Our souls sustain'd with living bread ; Our souls, that never die ! Extend Thy grace to ev'ry fault ; Each sinful action, word, and thought, Oh ! let Thy love forgive : For Thou hast taught our hearts to show Divine forgiveness to our foe, Nor let resentment live. Where tempting snares bestrew the way, To lead unwary minds astray, Permit us not to tread : Unless Thy gracious aid appear, T' avert the threat'ning evil near, From our unguarded head. Thy sacred name we thus adore, And thus Thy choicest gifts implore, With joyful humble mind ; .Because Thy power and glory prove Thy kingdom built on wisdom, love Unceasing, unconfin'd. SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. 97 A PARAPHRASE On the latter Part of the Sixth Chapter of St. Mat- thew. — Thomson. When my breast labours with oppressive care, And o'er ray cheek descends the falling tear ; While all my warring passions are at strife, 0, let me listen to the words of life ! Raptures deep-felt His doctrine did impart, And thus He raised from earth the drooping heart. Think not, when all, your scanty stores afford, Is spread at once upon the sparing board ; Think not, when worn the homely robe appears, While, on the roof, the howling tempest bears ; What farther shall this feeble life sustain, And what shall clothe these shiv'ring limbs again. Say, does not life its nourishment exceed ? And the fair body its investing weed ? Behold ! and look away your low despair — See the light tenants of the barren air : To them, nor stores, nor granaries, belong, Nought but the woodland, and the pleasing song ; Yet, your kind heavenly Father bends His eye On the least wing, that flits along the sky. To Him they sing, when Spring renews the plain, To Him they cry, in Winter's pinching reign ; Nor is their music, nor their plaint in vain : F 98 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. He hears the gay, and the distressful call, And with unsparing bounty fills them all. Observe the rising lily's snowy grace, Observe the various vegetable race : They neither toil, nor spin, but careless grow, Yet see how warm they blush ! how bright they glow ! What regal vestments can with them compare ! What king so shining ! or what queen so fair I If, ceaseless, thus the fowls of heaven He feeds, If o'er the fields such lucid robes He spreads ; Will He not care for you, ye faithless, say ? Is He unwise ? or, are ye less than they ? THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.— Dale. Luke vii. v. 12, 13. — Behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not. The mourner, speechless and amaz'd, On that mysterious Stranger gazed — If young he were, 'twas only seen From lines that told what once had been ; As if the wind of time Had smote him, ere he reached his prime. The bright rose on his cheek was faded, His pale fair brow with sadness shaded — SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. 99 Yet, thro' the settled sorrow there, A conscious grandeur flashed, and told Unswayed by man and uncontrolled, Himself had deigned their lot to share, And borne — because he willed to bear— Wnate'er his being or his birth, His soul had never stooped to earth ; Nor mingled with the meaner race, Who shared or swayed his dwelling place ; But high, mysterious, and unknown, Held converse with itself alone : And yet the look that could depress Pride to its native nothingness, And bid the specious boaster shun The eye he dar'd not gaze upon, Superior love did still reveal : Not such as man for man may feel, No, all was passionless and pure — That God-like majesty of woe Which counts it glory to endure, And knows nor hope nor fear below, Nor aught that still to earth can bind, But love and pity for mankind. And in his eye a radiance shone — Oh ! how shall mortal dare essay, On whom no prophet's vest is thrown, To paint that pure celestial ray ! Mercy, and tenderness, and love, And all that finite sense can deem Of Him who reigns enthroned above ; Light such as blessed Isaiah's dream, When to the awe-struck prophets eyes, f 2 100 SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. God bade the Star of Judah rise — Where heaven in living lustre glow'd, There shone the Saviour, there the God. CHARITY. A Paraphrase on the Thirteenth Chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians. — Prior. Did sweeter sounds adorn my flowing tongue, Than ever man pronounced, or angel sung ; Had I all knowledge, human and divine, That thought can reach, or science can define ; And had I power to give that knowledge birth, In all the speeches of the babbling earth ; Did Shadrach's zeal my glowing breast inspire, To weary tortures, and rejoice in fire ; Or had 1 faith like that which Israel saw, When Moses gave them miracles and law ; Yet, gracious Charity, indulgent guest, W r ere not thy power exerted in my breast, Those speeches would send up unheeded prayer ; That scorn of life would be but wild despair ; A cymbal's sound were better than my voice ; My faith were form ; my eloquence were noise. Charity, decent, modest, easy, kind, Softens the high, and rears the abject mind ; Knows with just reins and gentle hand to guide Betwixt vile shame and arbitrary pride. SCRIPTURES VERSIFIED. 101 Not soon provoked, she easily forgives ; And much she suffers, as she much believes. Soft peace she brings wherever she arrives ; She builds our quiet, as she forms our lives : Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even ; And opens in each heart a little heaven. Each other gift, which God on man bestows, Its proper bounds and due restriction knows ; To one fixt purpose dedicates its power, And finishing its act, exists no more. Thus, in obedience to what Heaven decrees, Knowledge shall fail, and Prophecy shall cease : But lasting Charity's more ample sway, Nor bound by time, nor subject to decay, In happy triumph shall for ever live, And endless good diffuse, and endless praise re- ceive. f 3 ELEGIES. ON THE 25th OF OCTOBER, 1819. Another year ! a year of solitude, Of darkness, yet of peace, has past, — and he, The father of his people, marks it not ! Alike to him all seasons and their change, His eyes are ray less, and his heart is cold ; He wields a barren sceptre, — yet his brow, Of regal diadem despoiled, still wears The crown of glory ; — his the hoary head, Found in the way of righteousness and truth. O thou ! our father : thou, our prince and friend ! How many a sight that would have grieved thine eyes, How many a pang that would have wrung thy heart, Has God withheld, and thine affliction spared ! The rose of England witherM in its bud, The voice of wailing was in ev'ry tent, Yet thy day passed unruffled as before. The partner of thy hopes, when hope was young, She who had shared thy first, thy youthful love, And ministered to ev'ry sorrow; — she F 4 104 ELEGIES. Fell by long sickness, and a lingering death ; And thou hadst neither tear nor sigh to give. Yet thou art not forgotten ! — Dear thou wast In happier moments ; and oh ! dearer far Now that the hand of God has touched thee ; still HallowM by all the memory of the past Shall be this day. Sacred by lengthened years, And venerable by sufferings, mayst thou reach, In Heaven's appointed time, thy last abode, The paradise of God, where ev'ry tear Is wiped from ev'ry eye L THE FOLLOWING LINES Are said to have been written by an amiable Prin- cess, whose sufferings and exemplary patience awakened universal sympathy and admiration. Unthinking, idle, wild, and young, I laughed, and talked, and danced, and sung ; And proud of health, of freedom vain, Dreamed not of sorrow, care, or pain : Concluding, in those hours of glee, That all the world was made for me. But when the days of trial came, When sickness shook this trembling frame, When folly's gay pursuits were o'er, And I could dance and sing no more, It then occurred, how sad 'twould be Were this world only made for me I ELEGIES. 105 On the DEATH op the Hon. Mr. DAWSON. Oye! who, borne on Fancy's golden wing, Sport in the sunshine of life's cloudless sky ; Who, lost amid the luxury of Spring, Dream of no threat'ning storm, no danger nigh : A little while your fond pursuits forbear ! One hour, at least, to serious thought is due ! A friend demands the tribute of a tear ; A friend, who once had hopes, as bright as you ! Whene'er he mixt among the youthful train, Say, did not pleasure sparkle in his eye ? But ah ! how soon the pleasure turned to pain ! He died ; — reflect ! repent ! — Ye soon may die ! While, as on his, with softest zephyrs fann'd, Youth's freshest blossoms on your boughs appear, Like some untimely frost, Death's chilling hand May nip the promise of the opening year ! How oft you joined him at th' accustomed hour, When, led by Learning's hand, yon pile he sought; How oft, while ev'ning reigned, in yonder bower, Warm glowed his bosom with poetic thought ! For well the golden lyre his fingers strung ; To him the Muse her richest treasures gave ; But Death, regardless of the strains he sung, Frowned on the bard, and snatched him to the grave. f 5 106 ELEGIES. Where now that glowing mind, those raptured lays, That late were wont to charm the list'ning ear ? He lived, — you graced him living with your praise ; He died : — ! grace his memory with a tear ! Nor o'er the son alone your sorrows shed ! Another strain the parent's woes require ! O sooth his anguish ! raise his drooping head, And to his Dawson's praises tune the lyre ! Thus shall a gleam of joy at times succeed, Recall the wonted lustre of his eye ; Bid his sad bosom cease awhile to bleed, And check the progress of the bursting sigh ! Say that, to titles born, he knew no pride ; No vice he knew, his breast was Virtue's throne ! Beloved, adored, by all the world beside, He was unconscious of his worth alone ! Folly for him spread all her lures in vain, In vain, with ev'ry art, she strove to please ! He spurned her presents, broke her galling chain, And climbed fair Virtue's sacred hill with ease. Say that, if innate purity of mind, Pity to feel, and charity to save ; If learned elegance, and taste refined, Could charm the ruthless bosom of the Grave ; He still had lived to cheer a parent's heart, — A parent happy in his son's renown ; In life's high scene had borne a longer part, And raised a nation's glory with his own. ELEGIES. 107 This Fate forbad, and snatched him from our eyes, She took ('twas all she could,) his fleeting breath ; Beyond her power, he reascends the skies, Disdains the sepulchre, and smiles on death. Yes, honoured youth ! in ev'ry gentle breast Thy name shall live for ages yet to come : By ev'ry Muse thy worth shall be confest, And Virtue's self shall weep upon thy tomb ! Tell then, blest spirit, tell the thoughtless crew, Who boast their youth, — that youth will soon be o'er ; Bid them reflect, and, provident like you, Improve, while yet they may, the present hour. ON MY BIRTHDAY.— Mr*. Carter, Author of life ! in vain my tongue essays, For this immortal gift to speak Thy praise ! How shall my heart its grateful sense reveal, When all the energy of words must fail ? O may it's influence in my life appear, And ev'ry action prove my thanks sincere ! Grant me, great God, a heart to Thee inclin'd, Increase my faith, and rectify my mind : Teach me betimes to tread Thy sacred ways, And to Thy service consecrate my days. Still, as thro* life's perplexing maze I stray, Be Thou the guiding star to mark my way, 108 ELEGIES. Conduct the steps of my unguarded youth, And point their motions to the paths of truth. Protect me by Thy providential care, And warn my soul to shun the tempter's snare. Thro' each event of this inconstant state, Preserve my temper equal and sedate. Give me a mind, that nobly can despise The low designs and little arts of vice. Be my Religion such as taught by Thee, Alike from pride and superstition free. Inform my judgment, regulate my will, My reason strengthen, and my passions still. Amidst the pleasures of a prosperous state, Whose flattering charms th* untutor'd heart elate; May I reflect to whom those gifts I owe, And bless the bounteous hand from whence they flow. Or, if an adverse fortune be my share, Let not its terrors tempt me to despair ; But fixt on Thee a steady faith maintain, And own all good, which Thy decrees ordain ; On thy unfailing providence depend, The best Protector, and the surest Friend ! TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. ELIZABETH CARTER. Mrs. Hunter. Within the silent chambers of the dead, Her sacred clay lies wrapp'd in peaceful sleep, With years and honour crown' d. Time gently led Her steady footsteps down the giddy steep ELEGIES. 109 Of human life ; surrounded by the blaze Of talents, fair desert, and high distinguished praise. In early youth, from Pleasure's train retired, Willing she trod stern Learning's rugged way ; By praise undazzled, humble, tho' admir'd, She tun'd her lyre to Wisdom's moral lay ; Ev'n in that season, when the sportive pow'r Of Fancy strews our path with many a blooming flow'r. Mild in the even temper of her mind, Benevolent to all, to merit just, Still on the side of mercy most inclin'd, Unwillingly she blamed; where blame she must. Pious as learned, and in faith sincere, Her trust was fix'd on Heaven, her hope already there. Oh Virtue ! how divine thy form appears, Adorn' d by genius, and with knowledge crown'd ; When smiles benign thy lovely aspect wears, When gentle charities thy throne surround ! Such was the blessed spirit now at rest, Releas'd from mortal cares to mingle with the bless'd. 110 ELEGIES. ON THE DEATH OF MR. GARRICK. Miss Bowdler. The last sad rites were done— the sacred ground Was clos'd, and Garrick's dust to dust re- turn'd : In life, in death, with general honours crown'd, A nation own'd his worth — applauded — mourn'd. For who, like him, could every sense control ; To Shakespeare's self, new charms, new force, impart, — Bid unknown horrors shake the firmest soul, And unknown feelings melt the hardest heart ? Oft when his eye, with more than magic pow'r, Gave life to thoughts which words could ne'er reveal, The voice of praise awhile was heard no more, All gaz'd in silence, and could only feel. Each thought suspended in a general pause, All shar'd his passions, and forgot their own ; 'Till, rous'd at length, in thunders of applause, Th' accordant dictates of each heart were known. O lost for ever to our wond'ring view ! Yet faithful Memory shall preserve thy name, Even distant times thy honours shall renew, And Garrick still shall share his Shakespeare's fame. ELEGIES. Ill Thus musing thro' the lonely isle I stray 'd, Recall'd the wonders of his matchless pow'rs, And many a former scene in thought survey'd, While all unheeded pass'd the silent hours. With mournful awe I trod the sacred stones, W r here kings and heroes sleep in long repose, And trophies mould' ring o'er the warrior's bones, Proclaim how frail the life which Fame bestows. Now sunk the last faint beam of closing day, Each form was lost, and hush'd was ev'ry sound, All, all was silent as the sleeping clay, And darkness spread her sable veil around. At once, methought, a more, than midnight gloom With death-like horror chill'd my throbbing breast, When lo ! a voice deep murmuring from the tomb These awful accents on my soul impressed : — " Vain are the glories of a nation's praise, " The boast of wit, the pride of genius, vain ; " A long long night succeeds the transient blaze, " Where darkness, solitude, and silence, reign. " The shouts of loud applause which thousands gave, " On me, nor pride, nor pleasure now bestow — " Like the chill blast that murmurs o'er my grave, M They pass away — nor reach the dust below. 112 ELEGIES. " One virtuous deed, to. all the world unknown, " Outweighs the highest bliss which these can give, " Can cheer the soul when youth and strength are flown, " In sickness triumph, and in death survive. " What tho' to thee, in life's remotest sphere, " Nor Nature's gifts, nor Fortune's are con- signed, Let brightest prospects to thy soul appear, And hopes immortal elevate thy mind. ci " The sculptur'd marble shall dissolve in dust, ■.* And fame, and wealth, and honours, pass away : " Not such the triumphs of the good and just, " Not such the glories of eternal day. 8 These, these shall live, when ages are no more, With never-fading lustre still shall shine : — Go then, to Heaven devote thy utmost povv'r, " And know, whoe'er thou art, the prize is thine." ALWYN AND RENA. Ask you, why round yon hallow'd grave The myrtle and the laurel bloom ? There sleep the lovely and the brave, O ! drop a tear upon their tomb ! ELEGIES. 113 " cease, my love, these fond alarms l" For war prepar'd, young Alwyn said, " For I must leave my Rena's charms, " My bleeding country asks myaid. " " Yes, I will check this struggling sighs; M Yes, I will check these flowing tears, " A smile shall brighten in my eye, " My bosom shall dispel its fears" " You try, indeed, to force a smile, " Yet sorrow's drops bedew your cheeks; " You speak of peace,— yet ah ! the while " Your tears will scarcely let you speak !" " Go, Alwyn, Rena bids thee go, " She bids thee seek the field of death ! " Go, Alwyn, rush amidst the foe, " Go, and return with Vict'ry's wreath !*' A thrilling blast the trumpet blew, The milk-white courser paw'd the ground ; A mixt delight young Alwyn knew, But Rena shudder' d at the sound ! Yet strove to hide the rising fears, Which now with double fury swell ; And, faintly smiling thro' her tears, She faulter'd out a long farewell. Three tedious moons with cheerless ray Had vainly gilt the face of night, Nor yet the hero took his way To bless his drooping Rena's sight. 114 ELEGIES. At length, thro' Rena's fa v' rite grove When now the fourth her radiance shed, He came; — and Vict'ry's wreath was wove, — But ah ! around a lifeless head ! Distracted at the blasting sight, To yonder tall cliff's bending brow, With heaving breast she urg'd her flight, And would have sought the waves below. But while with steady gaze she view'd The foaming billows void of fear, Religion at her right hand stood, And whisper 'd to her soul, — " Forbear.'* And now the storm of grief was o'er ; Yet melancholy's weeping eye DistilPd the slow and silent show'r, Nor ceas'd 'till life's warm springs were dry. For this, around yon hallow'd grave The myrtle and the laurel bloom ; There sleep the lovely and the brave, O ! drop a tear upon their tomb ! ON A DYING FRIEND. Rest, gentle spirit, from thy mortal strife, From the light joys and solid griefs of life ! Though few of those thy shorten'd course has known, ELEGIES. 115 Though these in ample measure were thy own, Still Heaven shall prove, (for ever wise and just,) Thy hopes not frustrate, and not vain thy trust. Eternal Mercy thy reward prepares; Cancels the long arrear of pain and tears ; Gives thee its own substantial bliss to know, Unmixed with frailty, unalloyed by woe. This is thy portion. What to us remains, Whom yet on earth Mortality detains ? Of all thy various worth the tender thought ; Thy mind with virtue, sense, and genius fraught; Thy cheerful converse, that suspended time ; Thy manners mild, and piety sublime ; But chief in death thy bright example given, Beck'ning us on, and leading up to heaven. LINES Written for the Use of a bereaved and afflicted Lady. — Rev. John MarriotU Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you. — 1st Peter, chap. v. verse 7. For me ! W^as it rightly I heard ? The hope too presumptuous I fear : Let the sweet, the encouraging word Still dwell on my gratified ear. 116 ELEGIES. On my ear, did I say? Little gain, Little comfort, such gift, would impart ; O let its deep impress remain Indelibly stamp'd on my heart. Does God then His creatures invite Upon Him to cast every care ? His word does Omnipotence plight Thus freely their burden to bear ? let me not baffle such love By a thankless and cold unbelief; But His truth and His faithfulness prove, By resigning my every grief. Does a Father his fostering hand From heaven in mercy extend ; And shall I such compassion withstand, And refuse such a bountiful friend ? Let me rather with rapture embrace An offer so gracious and kind, And unlimited confidence place In such pow'r and such goodness combined. Has it pleas'd Him, in wisdom, to take My earthly dependence away? Then with child like submission I'll make His arm my sole pillar and stay. I'll repose on the words which declare, « That the desolate still He befriends, Makes the fatherless children His care, And the cause of the widow defends. ELEGIES. 117 I'll list to His heart-soothing voice, Who has said that the mourners are blest, Who invites them to Him to rejoice, And assures them of comfort and rest. To the heart truly humbled by woe, The anointing of joy shall be given ; To the tears which from penitence flow, The peace that's a foretaste of heaven. MY BROTHER'S GRAVE. John Moultrie, Esq. then aged 15. Beneath the chancel's hallow'd stone, Expos'd to ev'ry rustic tread, To few, save rustic mourners, known, My brother, is thy lowly bed. Few words upon the rough stone graven, Thy name, thy birth, thy youth declare, Thy innocence, thy hopes of heaven, In simplest phrase recorded there ; No 'scutcheons shine, no banners wave, In mockery o'er my brother's grave. The place is silent; — rarely sound Is heard those ancient walks around ; No mirthful sound of friends that meet Discoursing in the public street ; Nor hum of business, dull and loud, Nor murmur of the passing crowd, 118 ELEGIES. Nor soldier's drum, nor trumpet's swell, From neighb'ring fort or citadel ; No sound of human toil ot strife, To Death's lone dwelling speaks of life ; Nor breaks the silence, still and deep, Where thou, beneath thy burial stone, Art laid, in that unstartled sleep The living eye hath never known ! The lonely sexton's footstep falls In dismal echoes on the walls, As slowly pacing thro' the aisle He sweeps th' unholy dust away, And cobwebs, which must not defile . Those windows on a sabbath day ; And passing thro' the central nave, Treads lightly on my brother's grave. But, when the sweet-toned sabbath chime, Pouring it's music on the breeze, Proclaims the well-known holy time Of prayer, and thanks, and bended knees When rustic crowds devoutly meet, And lips and hearts to God are given, And souls enjoy oblivion sweet Of earthly ills in thoughts of heaven ; What voice of calm and solemn tone Is heard above thy burial stone ? What form in priestly meek array Beside the altar kneels to pray ? What holy hands are lifted up To bless the sacramental cup ? ELEGIES. 119 Full well I know that reverend form : And, if a voice could reach the dead, Those tones would reach thee ; — but the worm, My brother, makes thy heart his bed ; — That Sire who thy existence gave, Now stands beside thy lowly grave. It is not long since thou wert wont Within these sacred walls to kneel; This altar, that baptismal font, These stones which now thy dust conceal. The sweet tones of the sabbath bell, Were holiest objects to thy soul; On these thy spirit lov'd to dwell, Untainted by the world's control. My brother, those were happy days When thou and 1 were children yet ; How fondly memory still surveys Those scenes the heart can ne'er forget. My soul was then, as thine is now, Unstain'd by sin, unstung by pain; Peace smiPd on each unclouded brow ; Mine ne'er will be so calm again ! How blithly then we hail'd the ray Which usher' d in the sabbath-day ; How lightly then our footsteps trod Yon pathway to the house of God ; For souls, in which no dark offence Hath sullied childhood's innocence, Best meet the pure and hallow'd shrine, Which guiltier bosoms own divine. 120 ELEGIES. 1 feel not now, as then I felt, — The sunshine of my heart is o'er ; The spirit now is chang'd, which dwelt Within me in the days before. But thou wert snatch'd, my brother, hence In all thy guileless innocence ; One sabbath saw thee bend the knee In reverential piety, For childish faults forgiveness crave, The next beam'd brightly on thy grave. The crowd, of which thou late wert one, Now throng' d across thy burial stone; Rude footsteps trampled on the spot Where thou liest mould'ring and forgot ; While some few gentler bosoms wept In silence, where my brother slept. 1 stood not by thy feverish bed, 1 look'd not on thy glazing eye, Nor gently lull'd thy aching head, Nor view'd thy dying agony ; I felt not what my parents felt, The doubt, the terror, the distress, Nor vainly for my brother knelt ; My heart was spar'd that wretchedness. One sentence told me in a breath My brother's illness, and his death ! The days of mourning glided by, And brought me back my gaiety ; For soon to childhood's wayward heart Does crush'd affection cease to smart ; ELEGIES. 121 Again I join'd the playful crowd Of boyish playmates, wild and loud ; I learnt to view with careless eye My sable garb of misery ; No more I wept my brother's lot, His image was almost forgot, And ev'ry deeper shade of pain Had vanish' d from my soul again. The well-known morn I used to greet With boyhood's joy, at length was beaming, And thoughts of home, and raptures sweet, In ev'ry eye, but mine, were gleaming. But I, amidst that youthful band Of beating hearts and beaming eyes, Nor smil'd, nor spoke, at joy's command, Nor felt those wonted ecstacies. I lov'd my home, but trembled now To view my father's alter'd brow ; I fear'd to meet my mother's eye, And hear her voice of agony ; I fear'd to view my native spot, Where he who lov'd it, now was not ! The pleasures of my home were fled, — My brother slumber'd with the dead ! Pensive I reach'd my father's gate, No smiling faces met me now ; I enter'd,— all was desolate, — Grief sat upon my mother's brow ; I heard her, as she kiss'd me, sigh ; A tear was in my father's eye ; G 122 ELEGIES. My little brothers round me press'd, In gay unthinking childhood blest ;— Long, long, that hour is past ; but when Shall I forget the mournful scene ! The sabbath came ; with mournful pace I sought my brother's burial place ; That shrine, which when I last had view'd, In vigour by my side he stood. I gaz'd around with fearful eye, All things repos'd in sanctity ; 1 reach' d the chancel ; nought was changed : The altar decently arrang'd, The pure white cloth above the shrine, The consecrated bread and wine, All was the same ; I saw no trace Of sorrow in that holy place ; One hurried glance I downward gave,— My foot was on my brother's grave ! And years have past, and thou art now Forgotten in thy silent tomb ! And cheerful is my mother's brow, My father's eye has lost its gloom ! And years have past ; and death has laid Another victim by thy side ; With thee he roams an infant shade, But not more pure than thee, he died. Blest are ye both ! — your ashes rest , Beside the spot you lov'd the best ; And that dear home which saw your birth, O'erlooks you in your bed of earth. ELEGIES. 123 But who can tell what blissful shore Your angel spirits wander o'er ; 0, who can tell what raptures high Now bless your immortality ! My boyish days are nearly gone, My breast is not unsullied now, And worldly cares and woes will soon Cut their deep furrows on my brow ; And life will take a darker hue, From ills my brother never knew ; And human passions o'er my soul May hold their dark and fell control. And I have made me bosom friends, And lov'd, and link'd my heart with others ; But who with mine his bosom blends, As mine was blended with my brother's ? When years of rapture glided by, The spring of life's unclouded weather, Our souls were knit ; —and thou and I, My brother, grew in love together. The chain is broke which bound us then, When shall I find its like again ! TO MRS. S.— By her Husband. For blooming health, for ease from pains, I left my streams, I left my plains, — Hope fledg'd my wings to roam ; But tyrant pow'r, and anxious care Too sure had fix'd th' invidious snare, To catch me when from home. g 2 124 ELEGIES. Ah ! what had I abroad to do ? With me the peaceful olive grew, And life's all healing baume Contentment, on her turtle wings, Brought joys to me unfelt by kings, And ev'ry blessing home. Of all thy sex, thou first, and best, Thou Virtue, by the Graces drest, My Margaretta come ; From dissipation, doubts, and strife, To sweet retreat and tranquil life, Oh ! lead me, lead me home. By day, by night, thy ceaseless love, As constant as the lights above, That gild the heav'nly dome ; So constant, so benign, as they, Thy influence waits with friendly ray, To guide the wand'rer home. Oh ! may the during pen of Heav'n Record the blessings it has giv'n, In Mem'ry's faithful tome ; That life the grateful debt may pay, Each silent eve, each rising day, When safety brings me home. ELEGIES. 125 ON THE DEATH OF A POOR IDEOT. Mrs. Dixon. Who, hapless helpless being, who Shall strew a flower upon thy grave, Or who from mute oblivion's power Thy disregarded name shall save ? Honour, and wealth, and learning's store The votive urn remembers long, And e'en the annals of the poor Live in their bard's immortal song. But a blank stone best honours thee, Whom sense, nor wealth, nor fame could find; Poorer than ought beside we see, — A human form without a mind. A casket gemless ! yet for thee Pity suspends the tender wail; For Reason shall a moral see, While Memory paints the simple tale. Yes ! it shall paint thy humble form Clad decent in its russet weed, Happy in harmless wand'ring's charm And pleased thy father's flock to feed. o 3 126 ELEGIES. With vacant reckless smile she bore Patient, the cruel scorner's jest, With unfix'd gaze could pass it o'er, And turn it pointless from her breast. Her tongue, unable to display The unform'd chaos of her mind, No sense its rude sounds could convey- But to parental instinct kind. Yet close to ev'ry human form Clings Imitation's mimic power, And she was fond and proud to own The school time's regulated hour. And o'er the mutilated page Mutter'd the mimic lesson's tone, And e'er the scholar's task was said, Brought ever and anon her own. And many a truant boy would seek And drag reluctant to his place, And e'en the master's solemn voice Would mock with grave and apt grimace* Each heart humane could freely love A nature so estrang'd from wrong, That even infants would remove Her from the passing traveller's tongue. , But her prime joy was still to be Where holy congregations bow, Rapt in wild transports when they sung, And when they pray'd would bend her low. ELEGIES. 127 Oh Nature ! wheresoe'er thou art, Some latent worship still is there ; Blush ye ! whose form without a heart The ideot's plea can never share. Poor guileless thing! just eighteen years Parental cares had rear'd alone, Then, lest thou e'er shouldst want these cares, Heaven took thee, spotless, to its own. Full many a watchful eye of love Thy sickness and thy death did cheer, And Reason, while she joys, approves The instinct of a parent's tear. Poor guileless thing ! forgot by men, The heaving turf directs to thee ; 'Tis all thou art to mortal ken, But Faith beyond the tomb can see. For what a burst of mind shall glow When, disencumber'd from this clod, Thou, who on earth couldst nothing know, Shalt rise to comprehend thy God ! Oh, could thy spirit teach us now, Full many a truth the gay might learn, The value of a blameless life Full many a scorner might discern, Yes ! they might learn, who waste their time, What it would be to know no sin, They who pollute the soul's sweet prime, What to be spotless pure within. G 4 128 ELEGIES. Go then, and seek her humble grave, All ye who sport in Folly's ray, And as the gale the grass shall wave, List to a voice that seems to say, — " 'Tis not the measure of your powers " To which th' eternal meed is given : " 'Tis wasted or improved hours " Shall forfeit or secure you heaven." ON A YOUNG WOMAN FOUND DEAD IN St. GEORGE'S FIELDS.— Miss M. Young. Unhappy daughter of distress and woe, Whate'er thy sufF'rings, and whoe'er thou art, For thee the tear of charity shall flow, Warm from the purest fountain of the heart. Tho' now, alas ! abandon'd and unknown, A parent once beheld thee with delight ; The darling of a father's heart alone, Or the lov'd object of a mother's sight! For thee, perhaps, they watch'd, and toil'd, and pray'd, O'er thy sweet innocence with rapture hung, And well they thought their tend 1 rest care repaid 'To hear the artless music of thy tongue ! ELEGIES. 129 When dawning Reason shed her ray benign, And all thy excellence became reveal'd, How did they joy to see thy virtues shine, Or hear thy praise with rapture ill-conceal'd ! For who, alas ! can tell thy secret worth ? What shining store of virtues might appear ? The bosom, now defenceless on the earth, Perhaps was gen'rous, grateful, and sincere. The lips, that knew no friend to bid farewell, Might once the noblest sentiments express ; The wretched head, that unsupported fell, Might once be turn'd to stories of distress. Some vile deceiver (practis'd to betray) Might win thy easy heart, destroy thy fame, Then cast thee like a loathsome weed away, The sport of fortune, and the child of shame Poor wanderer ! perhaps thou could'st not find One liberal hand the slender gift to spare: Insatiate avarice the soul confin'd, Or timid prudence disbeliev'd thy prayer ! Then from the world, abandon' d and forlorn, Careless of life, and hopeless of relief, Thine agonizing soul retir'd to mourn, And breathe its last in unmolested grief ! Whatever has been thy lot, lamented shade, From sin at length and sorrow thou art free ; Thy debt to virtue it is amply paid, And weeping Tity pays her debt to thee. g 5 130 ELEGIES. JESSY. Describing the Sorrow of an ingenuous Mind, on the melancholy Event of a licentious Amour, Shenstone. Why mourns my friend ? why weeps his down- cast eye ? That eye where mirth, where fancy us'd to shine ? Thy chearful meads reprove that swelling sigh ; Spring ne'er enamel'd fairer meads than thine. Art thou not lodg'd in Fortune's w T arm embrace ? Wert thou not form'd by Nature's partial care ? Blest in thy song, and blest in ev'ry grace, That wins the friend, or that enchants the fair ? Damon, said he, thy partial praise restrain ; Not Damon's friendship can my peace restore ; Alas ! his very praise awakes my pain, And my poor wounded bosom bleeds the more. For oh ! that nature on my birth had frown' d ! Or fortune fix'd me to some lowly cell ! Then had my bosom 'scap'd this fatal wound, Nor had I bid these vernal sweets farewell. But, led by Fortune's hand, her darling child, My youth her vain licentious bliss admir'd ; In Fortune's train the siren Flatt'ry smil'd, And rashly hallow'd all her queen inspir'd. ELEGIES. 131 Of folly studious, e'en of vices vain, Ah, vices ! gilded by the rich and gay ! I chas'd the guileless daughters of the plain, Nor dropt the chace, till Jessy was my prey. Poor artless maid ! to stain thy spotless name Expense, and art, and toil, united strove ; To lure a breast that felt the purest flame, Sustain'd by virtue, but betray'd by love. School'd in the science of love's mazy wiles, I cloth'd each feature with affected scorn ; I spoke of jealous doubts, and fickle smiles, And, feigning, left her anxious and forlorn. Then, while the fancy'd rage alarm'd her care, Warm to deny, and zealous to disprove, I bade my words their wonted softness wear, And seiz'd the minute of returning love. To thee, my Damon, dare I paint the rest ? Will yet thy love a candid ear incline ? Assur'd that virtue, by misfortune prest, Feels not the sharpness of a pang like mine. Nine envious moons matur'd her growing shame, Ere while to flaunt it in the face of day ; When scorn'd of virtue, stigmatiz'd by fame, Low at my feet desponding Jessy lay. " Henry," she said, " by thy dear form subdu'd, " See the sad relics of a nymph undone ! M I find, I find this rising sob renew'd : " I sigh in shades, and sicken at the sun. 132 ELEGIES. " Amid the dreary gloom -of night, I cry, " When will the morn's once pleasing scenes return ? " Yet what can morn's returning ray supply, *' But foes that triumph, or but friends that mourn ! " Alas ! no more that joyous morn appears " That led the tranquil hours of spotless fame ; " For I have steep'd a father's couch in tears, " And ting'd a mother's glowing cheek with shame. " The vocal birds that raise their matin strain, " The sportive lambs, increase my pensive moan ; " All seem to chase me from the cheerful plain, " And talk of truth and innocence alone. " If thro' the garden's flow'ry tribes I stray, " Where bloom the jasmines that could once allure, " Hope not to find delight in us, they say, " For we are spotless, Jessy ; we are pure. u Ye flow'rs ! that well reproach a nymph so frail, "Say, could ye with my virgin fame compare ? " The brightest bud that scents the vernal gale " Was not so fragrant, and was not so fair. " Now the grave old alarm the gentler young, " And all my fame's abhorr'd contagion flee ; " Trembles each lip, and faulters every tongue, " That bids the morn propitious smile on me. ELEGIES. 133 " Thus for your sake I shun each human eye ; " I bid the sweets of blooming youth adieu ; " To die I languish, but I dread to die, " Lest my sad fate should nourish pangs for you. " Raise me from earth; the pains of want remove, " And let me silent seek some friendly shore ; " There only, banish'd from the form I love, " My weeping virtue shall relapse no more. " Be but my friend ; I ask no dearer name ; " Be such the meed of some more artful fair ; " Nor could it heal my peace, or chase my shame, " That pity gave what love refus'd to share. " Force not my tongue to ask its scanty bread, " Nor hurl thy Jessy to the vulgar crew ; " Not such the parent's board at which I fed ! w Not such the precepts from his lips I drew ! " Haply, when age has silver' d o'er my hair, " Malice may learn to scorn so mean a spoil ; " Envy may slight a face no longer fair ; " And Pity welcome to my native soil." She spoke — nor was I born of savage race, Nor could these hands a niggard boon assign ; Grateful she clasp'd me in a last embrace, And vow'd to waste her life in pray'rs for mine. I saw her foot the lofty bark ascend ; I saw her breast with every passion heave ; I left her — torn from every earthly friend ; Oh ! my hard bosom, which could bear to leave ! 134 ELEGIES. Brief let me be, — the fatal storm arose, — The billows rag'd, the pilot's art was vain ; O'er the tall mast the circling surges close ; My Jessy floats upon the wat'ry plain ! And, — see my youth's impetuous fires decay ; Seek not to stop reflection's bitter tear ; But warn the frolic, and instruct the gay, From Jessy floating on her wat'ry bier ! TO A FRIEND. On some slight occasion estranged from him, Shenstone. Health to my Friend, and many a cheerful day Around his seat may peaceful shades abide ! Smooth flow the minutes, fraught with smiles, away, And, 'till they crown our union, gently glide. Ah me ! too swiftly fleets our vernal bloom ! Lost to our wonted friendship, lost to joy ! Soon may thy breast the cordial wish resume, Ere wintry doubt its tender warmth destroy. Say, were it our's, by Fortune's wild command, By chance to meet beneath the torrid zone ; Wou'dst thou reject thy Damon's plighted hand ? Wou'dst thou with scorn thy once lov'd friend disown ? ELEGIES. 135 Life is that stranger land, that alien clime ; Shall kindred souls forego their social claim ? Launch'd in the vast abyss of space and time, Shall dark suspicion quench the gen'rous flame ? Myriads of souls, that knew one parent mold, See sadly sever' d by the laws of chance ! Myriads, in Time's perennial list enroll'd, Forbid by Fate to change one transient glance ! But we have met — where ills of every form, Where passions rage, and hurricanes descend : Say, shall we nurse the rage, assist the storm, And guide them to the bosom of a friend ? Yes, we have met — thro* rapine, fraud, and wrong, Might our joint aid the paths of peace explore ! Why leave thy friend amid the boist'rous throng, Ere death divide us, and we meet no more ? For oh ! pale sickness warns thy friend away ! For me no more the vernal roses bloom ! I see stern fate his ebon wand display, And point the wither'd regions of the tomb. Then the keen anguish from thine eye shall start, Sad as thou follow'st my untimely bier ; ** Fool that I was — if friends so soon must part, " To let suspicion intermix a fear." 136 ELEGIES, TO MRS. UNWIN.—Cewper. Mary ! I want a lyre with other strings ; Such aid from Heaven, as some have feign 1 d they drew ! An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new, And undebas'd by praise of meaner things ! That, ere through age or woe I shed my wings, I may record thy worth with honour due, Tn verse as musical as thou art true, — Verse, that immortalizes whom it sings ! But thou hast little need : There is a book, By seraphs writ, with beams of heavenly light, On which the eyes of God not rarely look ; A chronicle of actions, just and bright ! There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine, And since thou own'st that praise, I spare thee mine. TO THE SAME.— Cowper. The twentieth year is well nigh past, Since first our sky was overcast, Ah would that this might be the last ! My Mary ELEGIES. 137 Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow — 'Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary ! Thy needles, once a shining store ! For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disus'd, and shine no more, My Mary ! For though thou gladly would'st fulfil The same kind office for me still, Thy sight now seconds not thy will, My Mary ! But well thou playd'st the housewife's part ; And all thy threads, with magic art-, Have wound themselves about this heart, My Mary ! Thy indistinct expressions seem Like language utter'd in a dream ; Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme, My Mary ! Thy silver locks, once auburn bright ! Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary ! For could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary ! 138 ELEGIES. Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign ; Yet gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary ! Such feebleness of limbs thou prov'st, That now, at every step thou mov'st Upheld by two, yet still thou lov'st, My Mary ! And still to love, though prest with ill, In wint'ry age to feel no chill, With me is to be lovely still, My Mary ! But ah ! by constant heed I know, How oft the sadness that I show, Transforms thy smiles to looks of woe, My Mary ! And should my future lot be cast With much resemblance of the past, Thy worn-out heart will break at last, My Mary ! TO MY FATHER. Oh ! my dear Father, I can ne'er forget, Nor, e'er remembering, cease to feel, the debt To thee I owe ; nor e'er that debt repay, To the late evening of my mortal day. ELEGIES. 139 Thou gav'st me being, far more sweet than this, Thou gav'st me that which makes my being bliss ; Thou didst to holy thoughts my bosom warm, Thou didst my tongue to holy accents form, And taught'st, in dawning reason's infant days, To lisp the voice of prayer, and thanks, and praise. IN MEMORY OF MY BELOVED MOTHER. Who hushed my infant cares to rest ? Who lulled me on her tender breast, And when I stirred more closely pressed ? My Mother. Who sweetly stilled my wailing cries ? Who prayed my dawning thoughts might rise Above earth's fleeting vanities ? My Mother. In early youth, who soothed my woe ? Who mourned when sickness laid me low, But whispered, " Mercy deals the blow ?" My Mother. Who taught my simple heart the way In feeble accents first to pray ? Who watched my slumbers, cheered my day ? My Mother. Who strove to teach my heart to glow With gratitude, and melt at woe ? Each selfish feeling to forego ? My Mother. 140 . ELEGIES. Who lived in peace and died in faith, And blest me with her latest breath ? Who grasped my hand and smiled in death ? My Mother. O ! shade of her I loved so dear ! Thy fond remembrance still I bear In my sad heart* Thou livest there. My Mother. THE LEAF.— Bp. Home. " We all do fade as a leaf." Isa. lxiv.-6. See the leaves around us falling, Dry and withered, to the ground ; Thus to thoughtless mortals calling, In a sad and solemn sound : Sons of Adam, once in Eden, Blighted when like us he fell, Hear the lecture we are reading, 'Tis, alas ! the truth we tell. Virgins, much, too much presuming On your boasted white and red ; View us, late in beauty blooming, Numbered now among the dead. Griping misers, nightly waking, See the end of all your care ; Fled on wings of our own making, We have left our owners bare. ELEGIES. 141 Sons of honour, fed on praises, FluttYing high in fancied worth, Lo ! the fickle air, that raises, Brings us down to parent earth. Learned sophs, in systems jaded, Who for new ones daily call, Cease, at length, by us persuaded, Ev'ry leaf must have its fall. Youths, tho' yet no losses grieve you, Gay in health and manly grace, Let not cloudless skies deceive you, Summer gives to Autumn place. Venerable sires, grown hoary, Hither turn th' unwilling eye, Think, amidst your falling glory, Autumn tells a Winter nigh. Yearly in our course returning, Messengers of shortest stay, Thus we preach this truth concerning, " Heaven and earth shall pass away.*' On the tree of life eternal, Man, let all thy hope be staid, Which alone, for ever vernal, Bears a leaf that shall not fade. 142 ELEGIES. WRITTEN In the Porch of Binstead Church, in the Isle of Wight. Farewell, sweet Binstead ! take a long farewell From one unused to sight of woods and seas ; Amid the strife of cities doomed to dwell, Yet roused to ecstacy by sights like these ; Who could for ever sit beneath thy trees, Inhaling perfume from the flowery dell, Or, list'ning to the murmur of the breeze, Gaze with delight on ocean's awful swell. Once more, adieu ! nor deem that I profane Thy sacred porch, for while the sabbath strain May fail to turn the sinner from his ways, These are impressions none can feel in vain ; These are the wonders that perforce must raise The soul to God, in silent faith and praise ! THOUGHTS IN A GARDEN.— Grigg. No longer lies Nature asleep in the root ; She blooms in yon bough, lo ! she sets in yon fruit ; Too soon from the bough if the blossom should fall, No fruit will succeed, — the gay blossom is all : Think, think, my soul, what a lesson for thee ! The bough may bloom fair, but quite barren the tree. ELEGIES. 143 While planted I am in this garden below, Some fruit, if but little, some fruit I must show ; Lest He that has planted should say with a frown, M The axe to the root ; cut the cumberer down." My season for bearing, not long it may last, Then wise let me be ere that season is past ; Heaven, heaven is the clime, and once plant me but there, Oh ! how shall I bloom, and what fruit shall I bear ? In the Planter's own garden, beneath His own eye, My leaf shall not wither, my fruit shall not die ; By that Fountain of Life I shall flourishing stand, Which ever shall flow at the Planter's right hand. ON VISITING THE RUINS OF DUNKSWELL ABBEY. Blest be the power, by Heaven's own flame inspired, That first through shades monastic poured the light ; Where, with unsocial Indolence retired, Fell Superstition reigned in tenfold night ; Where, long sequestered from the vulgar sight, Religion fettered lay, her form unknown, 'Mid direful gloom and many a secret rite ; Till now released, she claims her native throne, And gilds th' awakening world with radiance all her own. 144 ELEGIES. O sacred source of sweet celestial peace ! From age to age in darksome cells confined ! Blest be the voice that bade thy bondage cease, And. sent thee forth t' illuminate the blind, Support the weak, and raise the sinking mind : By thee the soul her native strength explores, Pursues the plan by favouring Heaven assigned, Through Truth's fair path th' enlightened spirit soars, And the Great Cause of all with purer rites adores. How oft, confined within this narrow grate, With souls aspiring to a world's applause, Have free-born spirits mourned their hapless fate ! Some hero, ardent in his country's cause, Some patriot, formed to give a nation laws, Or in life's milder scenes with honour share; When each fond hope a father's hand withdraws, And dooms his child, from ev'ry prospect fair, To long unvarying years of lonely deep despair. When darkness now with silence reigns around, As the faint sun withdraws his glimm'ring beams, (Save when, to render horror more profound, On the rough grate the pale moon quiv'ring gleams, And thro' the length'ning aisle the owlet screams) Then, lulled by Fancy's visionary train, His long lost friends frequent his blissful dreams ; i He spends his days of childhood o'er again, Till sounds the midnight bell, and proves the vision vain. ELEGIES. 145 Yet let the hand of desolating Time These sinking towers and mould'ring walls revere ; For not with useless pride they rose sublime : Fair Science stored her choicest treasures here, When Rapine whirled aloft her threat'ning spear, When Murder reigned, by gothic Ignorance crown'd : On ev'ry plain the barbarous bands appear, Fierce Discord bids her hostile trumpet sound, And War, in crimson'd robe, tremendous stalks around. Though now in ruined majesty they lie, The fading relics of departed days, Yet shall their change no useless theme supply, No trivial subject for the poet's lays ; For, as the thoughtful mind these scenes surveys, Whose solemn shades reflection's powers invite, Their fading pomp that awful hand displays, Which can, from transient ill and mental night, Educe eternal good and intellectual light. DEATH. Wages of sin is death : The day is come, Wherein the equal hand of Death must sum The several items of man's fading glory Into the easy total of one story. The brows that sweat for kingdoms and renown, To glorify their temples with a crown, H 146 ELEGIES. At length grow cold, and leave their honoured name To flourish in the uncertain blast of Fame. This is the height that glorious mortals can Attain ; this is the highest pitch of man. The quilted quarters of the earth's great ball, Whose unconfined limits were too small For his extreme ambition to deserve, Six foot of length and three of breadth must serve. This is the highest pitch that man can fly ; And, after all his triumph, he must die. Lives he in wealth ? Does well-deserved store Limit his wish, that he can wish no more ? And does the fairest bounty of increase Crown him with plenty, and his days with peace ? It is a right-hand blessing : but supply Of wealth cannot secure him ; he must die. Lives he in pleasure ? Does perpetual mirth Lend him a little heaven upon this earth ? Meets he no sullen care, no sudden loss To cool his joys ? Breathes he without a cross ? Wants he no pleasure that his wanton eye Can crave or hope from Fortune ? He must die. Lives he in honour ? hath his fair desert Obtained the freedom of his prince's heart ? Or may his more familiar hands disburse Jlis liberal favours from the royal purse ? Alas ! his honour cannot soar too high For pale-faced Death to follow : he must die. ELEGIES. 147 Lives he a conqueror ? and doth Heaven bless His heart with spirit : that spirit with success ; Success with glory ; glory with a name, To live with the eternity of fame ? The progress of his lasting fame may vie With time : but yet the conqueror must die. Great and good God ! Thou Lord of life and death, In whom the creature hath his being, breath ; Teach me to under-prize this life, and I Shall find my loss the easier when 1 die. So raise my feeble thoughts and dull desire, That, when these vain and weary days expire, I may discard my flesh with joy, and quit My better part of this false earth, and it Of some more sin ; and for this transitory And tedious life enjoy a life of glory. DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST.— Shirley. The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate : Death lays his icy hands on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. h2 148 ELEGIES. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill ; But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still. Early or late They stoop to Fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then bdast no more your mighty deeds, Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor victim bleeds : All heads must come To the cold tomb, — Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust. TO Mrs. .—J. Bawdier, Jun. Think not, because thy quiet day In silent goodness steals away ; Think not, because to me alone Thy deeds of cheerful love are known ; That in the grave's dark chamber laid, With thee those gentle acts shall fade : From the low turf where virtue lies, Shall many a bloodless trophy rise, Whose everlasting bloom shall shame The laurelled conqueror's proudest name. ELEGIES. 14.9 For there the hoary sire shall come, And lead his babes to kiss thy tomb ; Whose manlier steps shall oft repair To bless a parent buried there. The youth, whose grateful thought reveres The hand that ruled his wayward years ; The tender maid, whose throbbing breast Thy gentle wisdom soothed to rest ; And he, who well thy virtues knew, When fortune failed, and friends were few ; All who thy blameless course approved, Who felt thy goodness, or who loved, Shall croud around the honoured shrine, And weep, and wish an end like thine. And still, as wintry suns go down, When winds are loud, and tempests frown, And blazing hearths a welcome give; Thy name in many a tale shall live. And still, as cheerful May resumes Her hawthorn sweets and heathy blooms, By upland bank and mossy lee Shall many a heart remember thee. But chief shall Fancy love to trace Each mental charm, each moral grace ; These, these shall live through many a year, To Truth, to Love, to Virtue dear ; And pour a mild instructive strain, When Wisdom lifts her voice in vain ; Shall Youth's unthinking heart assuage, And smooth the brow of careful Age. h.3 150 ELEGIES. A FRAGMENT.— J. Bowdler, Jun. Children of God, who, pacing slow, Your pilgrim path pursue, In strength and weakness, joy and woe, To God's high calling true : Why move ye thus with lingering tread, A doubtful mournful band ? Why faintly hangs the drooping head, Why fails the feeble hand ? Was the full orb that rose in light To cheer your early way, A treacherous meteor falsely bright, That blazed and passed away ? Was the rich vale that proudly shone Beneath the morning beam, A soft illusion swiftly gone, A fair and faithless dream ? Oh ! weak to know a Saviour's power, To feel a Father's care : A moment's toil, a passing shower, Is all the grief ye share. The lord of light, though veiled awhile ' He hide his noontide ray, Shall soon in lovelier beauty smile To gild the closing day ; ELEGIES. 151 And bursting through the dusky shroud That dared his power invest, Ride throned in light o'er every cloud Triumphant to his rest. And there, beneath His beam renewed, That glorious vale shall shine, So long by trembling hope pursued, And now for ever thine. Then, Christian, dry the falling tear, The faithless doubt remove ; Redeem'd at last from guilt and fear, Oh ! wake thy heart to love. A Saviour's blood hath bought thy peace, Thy Saviour God adore ; He bade the throb of terror cease, The pains of guilt he bore. TO HIS MOTHER.— J. Bowdler, Jun. Thou dearest object of my earliest love, Whom Nature's voice first taught me to adore, Ere rising Reason's mandate could approve, What heaven-taught instinct had inspired before; what a race my weary feet have run, Since last thy image met my wishful eye ; Then waft me hence, thou quick revolving sun, To that lov'd region of eternal joy. h 4 152 ELEGIES. For where can man in .heaven's high realms beside, Heart- soothing peace and gentle pleasure find ; If senseless apathy in stoic pride, Constrain each nobler feeling of the mind ? 'Tis warm Affection's links that mildly join In sacred sympathy each kindred soul, When, rich with mercies from the hand divine, Days, months, and years, in blissful silence roll. Such were the hours that once in rapture flew, While every day increase of bliss supplied : With every hour some sweeter pleasure grew, Each wish prevented, and each want untried. Yet, e'en while Freedom spread her charms around, While laughed the morn, and every joy was mine, Could fancied sorrows real pleasures wound, And passion thwart reflection's cool design. Fool that 1 was — full oft I vowed in vain, To rule my life with Reason's sober sway ; Till headstrong Passion snatched the slackened rein, And chased Reflection's milder power away. Then, when overwhelmed I lay with fancied woe, Thy present image cheered the darkling scene, Methinks e'en now thy gentle dictates flow, Queen of each thought, of each affection queen ELEGIES. 153 For thou art all that Heaven itself could form, The noblest soul and meekest spirit joined ; Nor Fortune's dream, nor Fate's o'erwhelming storm Can change th' unaltered tenor of thy mind. yet, while youth smiles in its earliest prime, This ruffian soul with meekest thoughts inspire, Thoughts like thine own ; e'er the rude hand of Time Light every spark, and fan the rising fire. While thus entranced I soothed each wishful care With silent Meditation's gentle power, Slow sunk the Sun, while poured on Night's dull ear, These awful dictates charmed the sacred hour : i " Say why, my son, thus pensive and alone, " Does thy sad heart with fancied sorrows mourn ; " Think'st thou these, childish sighs, this abject groan, " Can bid the scenes of former bliss return ? " Know, then, that years on hasty pinions fly, " Not pleasure's poison can their force destroy; " Silent we steal through life, are born and die, " Catch fancied bliss, and taste unreal joy. " But oh ! how wretched he, whose infant heart " No mother's tender precepts e'er refined; " To him no joys can love's sweet balm impart, " Or soft affection sooth his tortured mind. h 5 154 ELEGIES. " Go then, — to Heaven thy pure devotions pay ; " Go sooth thy Mother's soul with filial zeal, " Tear from her heart each anxious care away, " Feel what you are, and dare be what you feel." TO MISS B- Then two years old. — Miss Bowdler. Sweet blossom, opening to the beams of day ! Dear object of affection's tender care ! For whom she gently smooths the painful way, Inspires the anxious wish, the ardent prayer ! How pleasing in thy infant mind to trace The dawn of reason's force, of fancy's fire, The soft impression of each future grace, And all a parent's warmest hopes desire ! How sweet that smile unknown to ev'ry art, Inspired by innocence, and peace, and joy ! How pure the transports of thy guiltless heart, Which yet no fears alarm, no cares annoy ! No airy phantoms of uncertain woe, The blessings of the present hour allay; No empty hopes a fancied good bestow, Then leave the soul to real grief a prey. Gay pleasure sparkles in thy gentle eye, , Some new delight in ev'ry scene appears— Yet soft affection heaves a secret sigh, And sends an anxious look to distant years. ELEGIES. 155 While those dear smiles with tender love I view, And o'er thy infant charms enraptured bend, Does my fond hope a real good pursue ? And do these arms embrace a future friend ? Should Heaven to me a lengthened date assign, Will e'er that love thy gentle heart engage With friendship's purest flame to answer mine, And charm the languor of declining age ? Yet not for me these ardent wishes rise, Beyond the limits of my fleeting years, For thee, dear babe, my prayers ascend the skies, And pleasing hope my anxious bosom cheers. May innocence still guard thy artless youth, Ere vice and folly's snares thy breast alarm, W r hile sweetness, modesty, and spotless truth, Beam from thy soul, and brighten ev'ry charm ! May Heaven to thee its choicest gifts impart, Beyond what wealth bestows, or pride pursues, With ev'ry virtue animate thy heart, And raise thy efforts to the noblest views ! In transport wrapt may each fond parent see Thro' rising years those virtues still improve, While ev'ry tender care now felt for thee, Thy heart repays with never-ceasing love. When pleasure smiles, and strews thy path with flow'rs, And youthful fancy doubles ev'ry joy, May brighter hopes attend thy gayest hours, And point to bliss which time can ne'er destroy ! 156 ELEGIES. And when the panas of woe thy breast must tear, When pleasure fades, and fancy charms no more, Still may those hopes the gloomy prospect cheer, Unmoved by grief, unchanged by fortune's power. May love, esteem, and friendship, crown thy days, With joys to guilt unknown, from doubt secure, While heavenly truth inspires the voice of praise, And bids that praise beyond the world endure ! Thro' life to Virtue's sacred dictates true, Be such thy joys as angels must approve, Such as may lead to raptures ever new, To endless peace and purest bliss above ! STANZAS.— Mrs. Carter. Acquaint thyself with God, and be at peace; To His attentive ear thy griefs confide ; His tender care each throbbing pain shall ease, His arm sustain thee, and His counsel guide. No cold neglect the faithful heart repays, Whose stedfast aim solicits His regard ; Each wish for merit, each attempt to please He views, and His approving smiles reward. Thro' ev'ry changing scene His constant love Alike shall make its happy object blest ; Shall ev'ry joy of active life improve, And sooth its latest agonies to rest. ELEGIES. 157 ON A THUNDER STORM. By Bishop Lowthy at the age of 14. Locked in the arms of balmy sleep From every care of day, As silent as the folded sheep, And as serene, I lay. Sudden tremendous thunders roll, Quick lightnings round me glare, The solemn scene alarms the soul, And wakes the mind to prayer. Whate'er, Lord, in this dread hour, These awful sounds portend, Whether sole engines of Thy power, Or groans for Nature's end, Vouchsafe, amidst this time of dread, Thy gracious arm to rear ; O save from death each friendly head, And all my soul holds dear. If waked by Thy vindictive hand This awful tempest stirs ; That peal the voice of Thy command, Those flames Thy messengers ; Welcome the bolt where'er it fall Beneath the passing sun ; Thy sovereign will determines all, And let that will be done ! 158 ELEGIES. By all such strong explosive shakes, One truth be understood : The glorious God the thunder makes, And all He makes is good. But if, as Nature's laws ordain, Not destined by Thy will, The bolt exerts its wild domain, Self-authorised to kill ; Quick interpose, all-gracious Lord, In this tremendous night, Arise, and be alike adored, For mercy and for might. Let it not fall where riot foul Pours forth the drunken jest, Nor where the guilt-envenomed soul Starts from its troubled rest. Succour the couch where beauty lies, All trembling pale with fear ; Where sickness lifts its languid eyes, Oh pour Thy comforts there. Awhile spare those sinful breasts Whose deeds the night deform, And strike where smiling virtue rests Unconscious of the storm. Thus in the awful judgment day, 1 Whose image shakes the soul, When keenest lightnings shoot their ray, And loudest thunders roll, ELEGIES. 159 Well pleased, Lord, each eye shall see Those final thunders hurled ; And mark with joy, for love of Thee, That flash which melts the world. ON THE BATH HOSPITAL. Open to the sick Poor of every Part of the World, Anstey. ! pause awhile, whoe'er thou art That drink'st this healing stream ; If e'er compassion o'er thy heart Diffused its heavenly beam ; Think on the wretch whose distant lot This friendly aid denies ; Think, how in some poor lonely cot He unregarded lies, Hither the helpless stranger bring, Relieve his heart-felt woe ; And let thy^bounty, like this spring, In genial currents flow. So may thy years from grief, and pain, And pining want, be free ; And thou from Heaven that mercy gain The poor receive from thee. 160 ELEGIES. CHILD OF MAN.— J. Bowdler, Jun. *' Child of Man, whose seed below " Must fulfil their race of woe, " Heir of want, and doubt, and pain, " Does thy fainting heart complain ? " Oh ! in thought one night recall " The night of grief in Herod's hall, " There I bore the vengeance due, " Freely bore it all for you. " Child of Dust, Corruption's son, " By pride deceived, by pride undone, " Willing captive, yet be free, " Take my yoke, and learn of me ; " I, of heaven and earth the Lord, " God with God, the eternal Word, " I forsook my Fathers side, " Toil'd, and wept, and bled, and died. " Child of Doubt, does fear surprize, " In strains of ardent praise, " With transport own. the blessings given, " To crown our future days. FABLES AND TALES. 269 " How oft my fervent prayers arose " While terrors shook my soul, M To Him who could the storm compose, " And winds and waves control ? " My prayers are heard — my fears are gone, " My much-loved friends I see ; " I feel a joy till now unknown, — " And can ye grieve for me ? " Content I shared an humble fate, " Nor wished in courts to shine ; — " The airy dream which pleased of late, " With joy I now resign. " What tho 1 no scenes of gay delight " Amuse each idle guest, " No costly luxuries invite " To share the splendid feast; M Yet Peace and Innocence shall smile, " And purer joys afford ; " And Love secure from doubt or guile " Shall bless our humble board. " What tho' we boast nor wealth nor power, " Each sorrow to relieve, " A little, from our little store, " The poor shall yet receive ; " And words of peace shall soothe the woe M Which riches could not heal, " And sweet benevolence bestow " An aid which all must feel ; n3 270 FABLES AND TALES. " Beyond the reach of Fortune's power, " Her gentle force extends ; " She cheers Affliction's darkest hour, " And Joy her steps attends. " Tho' here to narrow bounds confined, " Ordained to lowly views, " For ever free, the virtuous mind " Her glorious path pursues ; " In prosp'rous state, o'er all she showers " The various blessings given ; " In humble life exerts her powers, " And trusts the rest to Heaven. " The lofty dwellings of the great " Full many a wretch contain, " Who feel the cares of pomp and state, " But seek their joys in vain : " Yet starting from his short repose, " Alarmed at ev'ry blast, " With anxious fear he dreads to lose " That good he ne'er could taste : " And oft beneath the silent shade " A noble heart remains, " Where Heaven's bright image is displayed, " And ev'ry virtue reigns : " Sweet peace and joy that heart shall find , " Unmoved by grief or pain ; *« Be such the lot to us assigned, «« And Fortune's frowns are vain. — FABLES AND TALES. 271 " ye who taught me first to know " Bright Virtue's sacred flame, " To whom far more than life I owe, " Who more than duty claim — " Ah ! let me dry each tender tear, " And ev'ry doubt destroy, " Dispel at once each anxious fear, " And call you back to joy. " And thou, my Henry, dearer far " Than fortune's richest prize, " I know thy heart — and thou canst dare " Her treasures to despise : " A purer bliss that heart shall prove " From care and sorrow free, " Content with innocence and love, " With poverty and Me." In transport lost, and freed from fears, The happy parents smiled, And blushing dried the falling tears, And clasped their matchless child. Her Henry, fixed in silent gaze, Beheld his lovely bride, — " Heaven, accept my humble praise !" At length, entranced, he cried. M To all my storms and dangers past, " If joys like these succeed, " My utmost wish is crowned at last, •■ And 1 am rich indeed. 272 FABLES AND TALES. " Then rise, ye raging tempests, rise, "And fortune's gifts destroy ; " Thy Henry gains the noblest prize, " He feels the purest joy. , " Ecstatic bliss his heart shall prove " From care and sorrow free, " While blest with innocence and love, " With boundless wealth — in thee. " Sweet Hope o'er every morn shall shed " Her soul-enliv'ning ray, " Celestial Peace, by Virtue led, " Shall cheer each closing day. «' Far from Ambition's train remov'd, " And Pleasure's giddy throng, " Our blameless hours, by Heaven approv'd, M Shall gently glide along. «« may I catch that sacred fire *' Which animates thy breast ! " Like thee to noblest heights aspire, " Like thee be truly blest ! " Thus shall the pleasing charm of love " Bright Virtue's force increase ; " Thus ev'ry changing scene shall prove " The road to lasting peace ; " And thus, thro' life, our hearts shall know , " A more than mortal joy, " Beyond what fortune can bestow, " Or time or death destroy." FABLES AND TALES. 273 THE THREE WARNINGS.— Mrs. Thrale. The tree of deepest root is found Least willing still to quit the ground ; 'Twas therefore said, by ancient sages, That love of life increased with years, So much, that in our latter stages, When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages, The greatest love of life appears. This great affection to believe, Which all confess, but few perceive, If old assertions can't prevail, Be pleased to hear a modern tale. When sports went round, and all were gay, On neighbour Dobson's wedding-day, Death called aside the jocund groom With him into another room ; And looking grave— " You must," says he, " Quit your sweet bride, and come with me !." " With you ! and quit my Susan's side ! " With you !" the hapless husband cried : ' Young as I am ! 'tis monstrous hard ! " Besides, in truth, I'm not prepar'd : " My thoughts on other matters go, " This is my wedding-day, you know." What more he urged I have not heard, His reasons could not well be stronger ; So Death the poor delinquent spar'd, And left to live a little longer. 274 FABLES AND TALES. Yet calling up a serious look, His hour-glass trembled while he spoke — " Neighbour," he said, " farewell ! no more " Shall Death disturb your mirthful hour ; " And farther, to avoid all blame " Of cruelty upon my name, " To give you time for preparation, " And fit you for your future station, " Three several warnings you shall have " Before you're summoned to the grave. " Willing for once I'll quit my prey, " And grant a kind reprieve ; " In hopes you'll have no more to say, " But when 1 call again this way, " Well pleased the world will leave." To these conditions both consented, And parted perfectly contented. What next the hero of our tale befell, How long he lived, how wise, how well, How roundly he pursued his course, And smoked his pipe, and stroked his horse, The willing muse shall tell. He chaffered then ; he bought and sold ; Nor once perceived his growing old, Nor thought of death as near : His friends not false, his wife no shrew, Many his gains, his children few, He passed his hours in peace. But while he viewed his wealth increase, While thus along life's dusty road The beaten track content he trod, FABLES AND TALES. 27~> Old Time, whose haste no mortal spares, Uncalled, unheeded, unawares, Brought on his eightieth year. And now one night, in musing mood, As all alone he sate, The unwelcome messenger of fate Once more before him stood. Half killed with anger and surprise, " So soon returned !" old Dobson cries : " So soon d'ye call it !" Death replies : " Surely, my friend, you 're but in jest ! " Since I was here before " 'Tis si x-and- forty years at least, " And you are now fourscore l" " So much the worse," the clown rejoin'd, " To spare the aged would be kind ; fc< Beside, you promised me Three Warnings, " Which I have looked for nights and mornings." " I know," cries Death, " that at the best, " I seldom am a welcome guest; " But don't be captious, friend, at least : — " I little thought you'd still be able " To stump about your farm and stable : " Your years have run to a great length : " I wish you joy, though, of your strength !" — " Hold," says the farmer, " not so fast ! " I have been lame these four years past." '* And no great wonder," Death replies ; 11 However, you still keep your eyes ; " And sure to see one's loves and friends " For legs and arms must make amends." 276 FABLES AND TALES. " Perhaps," says Dobson, " so it might, " But latterly I've lost my sight I" " This is a shocking tale, 'tis true, " But still there's comfort left for you ; " Each strives your sadness to amuse, " I warrant you hear all the news." " There's none," cries he, " and if there were, " I'm grown so deaf, I could not hear." " Nay, then," the spectre stern rejoined, " These are unjustifiable yearnings ;" " If you are lame, and deaf, and blind, " You've had your three sufficient warnings; " So come along ! no more we'll part." He said ; and touched him with his dart : And now old Dobson, turning pak, Yields to his fate ! So ends my tale. END OF VOL. I. Davidson, Printer, Old Boswell Court, London. m /:? » // ///xVY/v'ww