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Whether the blossom blows, the Summer ray
Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams,
Or Winter rises in the black'ning east,

Be my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more,
And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat!
Should Fate command me to the farthest verge
Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes,
Rivers unknown to song; where first the sun
Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam
Flames on the Atlantic isles: 'tis nought to me,
Since God is ever present, ever felt

In the void waste as in the city full:

And where He vital breathes there must be joy.
When even at last the solemn hour shall come,
And wing my mystic flight to future worlds,
I cheerful will obey; there, with new pow'rs,
Will rising wonders sing: I cannot go
Where universal love not smiles around,
Sustaining all yon orbs and all their suns-
From seeming evil still educing good,
And better thence again, and better still,
In infinite progression. But I lose

Myself in Him, in Light ineffable;

Come then, expressive Silence, muse his praise.

DEPENDENCE ON PROVIDENCE.

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 further shall this feeble life sustain,
And what shall clothe these shivering 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:

RESIGNATION TO THE WILL OF HEAVEN.

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 :
He hears the gay and the distressful call,
And with unsparing bounty fill 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?

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?

SAMUEL JOHNSON.
BORN, 1709; DIED, 1784.

RESIGNATION TO THE WILL OF HEAVEN.
WHERE then shall Hope and Fear their objects find?
Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind?

Must helpless man in ignorance sedate,
Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?

Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise,

No cries invoke the mercies of the skies?

Inquirer, cease; petitions yet remain

Which Heaven may hear, nor deem religion vain.
Still raise for good the supplicating voice,

But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice.

Safe in his power whose eyes discern afar,

The secret ambush of a specious prayer;

Implore his aid, in his decisions rest,
Secure, whate'er he gives, he gives the best.

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Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires,
And strong devotion to the skies aspires,
Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind,
Obedient passions, and a will resigned;
For love, which scarce collective man can fill:
For patience, sov'reign o'er transmuted ill;
For faith, that, panting for a happier seat,
Counts death kind Nature's signal of retreat:
These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain,
These goods he grants, who grants the power to gain
With these celestial Wisdom calms the mind,
And makes the happiness she does not find.

JOHN HAWKESWORTH.

BORN, 1715; Died, 1773.

HYMN.

IN sleep's serene oblivion laid,
I safely pass'd the silent night;
At once I see the breaking shade,
And drink again the morning light.
New-born-I bless the waking hour,
Once more with awe, rejoice to be;
My conscious soul resumes her power,
And springs, my gracious God, to thee.
Oh guide me through the various maze,

My doubtful feet are doom'd to tread;
And spread thy shield's protecting blaze,
When dangers press around my head.
A deeper shade will soon impend,

A deeper sleep my eyes oppress;
Yet still thy strength shall me defend,
Thy goodness still shall deign to bless.
That deeper shade shall fade away,
That deeper sleep shall leave my eyes;
Thy light shall give eternal day!
Thy love the rapture of the skies!

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THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD.

PLAC'D on the verge of youth, my mind
Life's op'ning scene survey'd;

I view'd its ills of various kind,
Afflicted and afraid.

But chief my fear the dangers mov'd,
That virtue's path enclose:

My heart the wise pursuit approv'd,
But oh what toils oppose.

For see! ah see! while yet her ways
With doubtful step I tread,
A hostile world its terrors raise,
Its snares delusive spread.

Oh! how shall I, with heart prepar'd,
Those terrors learn to meet?

How from the thousand snares to guard
My inexperienc'd feet?

As thus I mus'd oppressive sleep
Soft o'er my temples drew
Oblivious veil.-The wat'ry deep,

An object strange and new,

Before me rose: on the wide shore
Observant as I stood,

The gath'ring storms around me roar,
And heave the boiling flood.

Near, and more near, the billows rise,

E'en now my steps they lave; And death to my affrighted eyes Approach'd in ev'ry wave..

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What hope, or whither to retreat,
Each nerve at once unstrung;
Chill fear had fetter'd fast my feet,
And chain'd my speechless tonguc.

I feel my heart within me die;
When sudden to mine ear

A voice descending from on high
Reprov'd my erring fear:

"What though the swelling surge thou see, Impatient to devour,

Rest, mortal, rest on God's decree,
And thankful own his pow'r.

“Know when he bade the deep appear,
'Thus far,' the Almighty said-
Thus far, nor farther, rage, and here
Let thy proud waves be stay'd.""

I heard, and lo! at once controll'd,
The waves in wild retreat,
Back on themselves reluctant roll'd,
And murm'ring left my feet.

Deeps to assembling deeps in vain

Once more the signal gave;
The shores the rushing weight sustain,
And check th' usurping wave.

Convinc'd in nature's volume wise,

The imag'd truth I read,
And sudden from my waking eyes
Th' instructive vision fled.

Then why thus heavy, O my soul!
Say, why distrustful still,

Thy thoughts with vain impatience roll
O'er scenes of future ill?

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