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As men who long in prison dwell,
With lamps that glimmer round the cell,
When-e'er their fuft'ring years are run,
Spring forth to greet the glitt'ring fun :
Such joy, tho' far transcending sense,
Have pious souls at parting hence.
On earth, and in the body placid,
A few, and evil years, they waste :
But when their chains are cast aside,
See the glad scene unfolding wide,
Clap the glad wing, and tow'r away,
And mingle with the blaze of day,



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OVELY, lasting peace of mind !

Sweet delight of human kind !
Heav'nly born, and bred on high,
To crown the fav’rites of the sky
With more of happiness below,
Than victors in a triumph know !
Whither, O whither art thou fled,
To lay thy meek, contented head ?
What happy region dost thou please
To make the seat of calms and ease ?

Ambition searches all its sphere

pomp and state, to meet thee there.
Encreasing avarice would find
Thy presence in its gold inshrin'd.
The bold advent'rer ploughs his way,
Thro' rocks amidst the foaming sea,
To gain thy love ; and then perceives
Thou wert not in the rocks and waves.

The The filent heart which grief affails,

Treads soft and lonesome o'er the vales,

Sees daisies open, rivers run,
And seeks, (as I have vainly done,)
Amusing thought; but learns to know
That folitude's the nurse of woe.
No real happiness is found
In trailing purple o'er the ground :
Or in a soul exalted high,
To range the circuit of the sky,
Converse with stars above, and know
All nature in its forms below;
The rest it feeks, in seeking dies,
And doubts at last for knowledge rise.

Lovely, lasting peace appear !
This world itself, if thou art here,
Is once again with Eden bleft,
And man contains it in his breast.

'Twas thus, as under shade I stood, I sung my wishes to the wood,


And lost in thought, no more perceiv'd
The branches whisper as they wav'd :
It seem'd, as all the quiet place
Confess'd the presence of the Grace.
When thus fhe spoke-Go rule thy will,
Bid thy wild paffions all be still,
Know God and bring thy heart to know,
The joys which from religion flow :
Then ev'ry Grace shall prove its Guest,
And I'll be there to crown the rest.

Oh! by yonder mosfy seats

hours of sweet retreat;
Might I thus my soul employ,
With sense of gratitude and joy :
Rais'd as ancient prophets were,
In heav'nly vision, praise, and pray'r;
Pleasing all men, hurting none,
Pleas'd and bless'd with God alone:
Then while the gardens take my fight,
With all the colours of delight;

While silver waters glide along,
To please my ear, and court my song :
I'll lift my voice, and tune my string,
And thee, great Source of Nature, sing.

The sun that walks his airy way,

To light the world, and give the day;
The moon that shines with borrow'd light s.
The stars that gild the gloomy, night ;
The seas that roll unnumber'd waves;
The wood that spreads its shady leaves ;
The field whose ears conceal the grain,
The yellow treasure of the plain ;
All of these, and all I see,
Shou'd be fung, and sung by me :.
They speak their Maker as they can,
But want and ask the tongue of man.

Go search among your idle dreams,
Your busy, or your vain extreams;
And find a life of equal bliss,
Or own the next begun in this.


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