HORAT.

Whose coming who shall tell? For as a thief At length mhe rose complete in finish'd pride Unheard, unseen, it steals with silent pace [I sit, All fair and spotlets, like a virgin bride: Through night's dark gloom--Perhaps as here Fresh with untarnish'd lutre as the stood, And rudely carol theie incondite lays, (mouth! Her Maker blels'd his work, and call'd it good Soon thall the hand be check 'd, and dumb the The morning Itars, with joyful acclamation, That lisps the fait'ring strain. - may it ne'er Exulting lung, and haild the new creation. Intrude unwelcome on an ill-frent hour; Yet this fair world, the creature of a day, But find me wrapt in meditations high, Thu' built by Gol's right hand, must pa Hymning my great Creator!

away ; “ Pow'r Supreme!

And long oblivion creep o'er mortal things, “ O o'erlasting King ! to thee I kneel,

The fate of empires, and the pride of kings “ To thee I lift my voice. With fervent heat Eternal night fall veil their proudest itory, " Melt, all ye elements! And thou higi heav'n. And drop the curtain o'er all human glory. “ Shrink likea thrivell d (croll! Butthink, Lord, “ Think on the best, the noblest of thy works;

The sun himself, with weary clouds oppreft, “ Think on thine own bright image! 'Think on

Shall in his filent, dark pavilion reft: “ him

His golden urn shall broke and useless lie, “Whodied to save us from thy righteous włath; The Itars rush headlong in the wild commotion

Amidst the common ruins of the sky! * And'midst the wreckofworldsrememberman!"

And bathe theirglitt'ring foreheads in the ocean $ 52. HYMNS. By Mrs. Barbauld. But fix'd, o God! for ever stands thy throne Quid prius dicam folitis Parentis

Jehovah reigns, a universe alone; Laudibus ? qui res hominum ac deorum,

Th' eternal fire that feeds each vital flame, Qui mare ac terras, variifque mundum Collected or diffusid, is still the fame. Temperat horis?

He dwells within his own up fathom'd effence HYMN 1.

And fills all space with his unbounded presenc JCHOVA# reigns: let ev'ry nation hear,

But oh! our highest notes the theme debase, And at his footstool bow with holy fear; And filence is ourleast injurious praise : {trou Let Hear'ns high arches echo with his name, Ceale, cease your songs, the daring flight cor

And the wide peopled earth his praile proclaim; Revere him in the stillness of the soul; Then send it down to hell's deep glooms re- With silent duty meekly bend before him, founding,

(ing. And deep within your inmost hearts adore hin Thro' all her caves in dreadful murmurs soundHe rules with wide and abfolute cummand

HYMN II.
O'er the broad ocean and the fted fast land: Praise to God, immortal praise,
Jehovah reigns, unbounded and alone, For the love that crowns our days;

And all creation hangs beneath his throne: Bounteous source of every joy,
He reigns alone; let no inferior nature Let thy praise our tongues employ;
Usurp or share the throne of the Creator.

For the blessings of the field,
He saw the struggling beams of infant light For the stores the gardens yield,
Shoot thro’the masly gloom of ancient night; For the vine's exalted juice,
His spirit huth'd the elemental strife,

For the gen'rous olive's use;
And brooded o'er the kindling seeds of life:
Seasons and months began the long procession, Flocks that whiten all the plain,
And measur'd o'er the year in bright succession. Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grain,
The joyful sun sprung up th'ethereal way,

Clouds that drop their fatt'ning dews,
Strong as a giant, as a bridegroom gay;

Suns that temp'rate warmth diftule; And the pale moon diffus'd her thadowy light all that Spring with bounteous hand

Superior o'er the dusky brow of night;' [ing, Scatters o'er the smiling land; Ten thousand glitt'ring lamps the skies adorn- All that lib'ral Autumn pours Namerous as dew-drops from the womb of From her rich o'erflowing ttores: morning

These to thee, my God, we owe, Earth's blooming face with rising flow'rs he dressid,

Sonrce whence all our blessings flow;
And spread a verdant mantle o'er her breast; Grateful vows and folemn praise.

And for thicle my soul shall raise
Then from the hollow of his hand he pours
The circling waters round her winding shores, Yet, should rising whirlwinds tear
The new-born world in their cool arins em- From its stem the rip’ning ear;
bracing,

Should the fig tree's blasted thoot
And with soft murmurs still her banks caresling. Drop her green untimely fruit;

• Althnigh the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines, the labour of the olive ft fail, and the helds Mall yield no meat, the Rocks thall be cut off from the fold, and there iball be notic in the falls; yee I will rejuice in the Lord, I will joy in die God of my salvation.

HABAKRYK, ir. 1718.

Show

HYMY III.

For Eafter-Sunday.

This day be grateful homage paid,

And loud botannas sung;

And praic on ev'ry tongue.

To hail this welcome morn;

Ebould the vine put forth no more,

HYMN IV. Aor the olive yield her ltore;

Behold wiere, breathing love divine, Though the fick`ning flocks should full,

Our dying Master stands! And the herds desert the tall;

His weeping followers gath'ring round Should shine alter'd hard restrain

Receive his last commands, The early and the latter rain ;

From thai mild Teacher's parting lip Blast each op'ning bad of joy,

What render accents fell! And the rising year detroy;

The gentle precept which he gave Yet to thee my soul tould raise

Became its author well : Grateful vows, and iclemn praise ;

“ Bless'd is the man whose soft'ning heart And, ben erity being's flown,

“ Feels all another's pain : Lore thes-for toyłeht alone,

“ To whom the supplicating eye

“ Was never rais'd in vain;

" Whofe breast expands with gen'rous warmth Agars the Lord of life and light

" A Itranger's woes to feel : Awakes the kinding ray ;

“ And bleeds in pity o'er the wound Unsezis the eyelids of the morn,

“ He wants the pow'r to heal, And pours increasing day.

“ He spreads his kind supporting arms O obat a night was that which wrapt

“ To ev'ry child of grief, The beathea world in gloom!

“ His secret bounty largely flows, O *bat a fun which broke this day,

“ And brings unaik'd relief, Triumpoant from the tomb !

“ To gentle offices of love

“ His feet are never slow;

“ He views, thro' mercy's melting eye, Let glatneis dweil in ev'ry heart,

" A brother in a foe.

“ Peace from the hosom of his God, Ten thousand diffring lips thall join

« My peace

io him I give!

“ And when he kneels before the throne, Which scatters bietlings from its wings

“ His trembling foul shall live,
“ To him protection shall be shewn,

“ And mercy from above
-- Descend on those who thus fulfil
“ The perfect law of love."

HYMN Y.
The pow is of darkness leagu'd in vain

AWAKE, my soul! lift

up
thine

eyes,

See where thy foes against thee rile, He thook their kingdom, when he fell,

In long array, a nuin'rous hoft; With his expiring breath.

Awake, my soul, or thou art lost, Not long the toils of hell could keep

Here giant Danger threat'ning stands The hope of Judah's line;

Mult'ring his pale terrific bands; Corruption never could take hold

There Pleasure's filken banners spread, On argbt so much divine.

And willing souls are captive ted.. And now his conquiring chariot wheels See where rebellious passions rage,

And fierce desires and lufts, engage ; Wbie broke, beneath his pow'rful cross,

The meanest foe of all the train Death's iron sceptre lies.

Has thousands and ten thousands Main, Exalted high at God's right hand,

Thou tread 'It upon enchanted ground, And Lord of all below,

Perils and snares beset thee round; Tho'bim is pard'ning love dispens'd,

Beware of all, guard ev'ry part, Aná boundless blessings flow.

But most the traitor in thy heart. And ta for erring, guilty man

Come then, my soul, now learn to wield À sseber's pity flows;

The weight of thine immortal Thield;
And a bis bleeding beart is touch'd Put on the armour from above
With zem’ry of our woes.

Of heav'nly truth and heav'nly love.
To thee, my Saviour and my King,

The terror and the charm repel, Glad homage let me give;

And pow'rs of earth, and pow'rs of hell And itand prepar'd like thee to die,

The inan of Calvary triumph'd here; With thee that I may live,

Why thould his faithful followers fear

To nations yet unborn.
Jefus, the friend of human kind,

With trong compallion mov'd,
Descended, like a pitying God,

To Lave the fouis he lov'd.

To bind his soul in death;

Akezd the lofty skies;

54

53. An Address to the Deity. Nor less the mystic characters I see

Mrs. Barbauld. Wrought in each flow'r, inscribid on ev'ry tree:
Deus est quodcunque vides, quocunquc moveris. In ev'ry leaf that trembles to the breeze

LUCAN. I hear the voice of God among the trees;
God of my life, and author of my days !

With thee in thady solitudes I walk
Permit my feeble voice to lisp thy praise ;

With thee in buly crowded cities talk;
And trembling take upon a mortal tongue

In ev'ry creature own thy forming pow'r,
That hallow'd name to harps of Seraphs sung. In eacli event thy providence adore.
Yet here the brightest Seraphs could no more Thy hopes thall animate my drooping soul,
Than hide their faces, tremble, and adore.

Thy precepts guide me, and thy fear controv Worms, angels, men, in ev'ry diffrent sphere, Thus thall I reft unmov'd by all alarms, Are equal all, for all are nothing here.

Secure within the temple of thine arms, All Nature faints beneath the mighty name,

From anxious cares, from gloomy terrors fret Which Nature's works, thro'all her parts, pro- And feel myself onnipotent in thee. claim.

Then,when the latt, the closing hour draws nigh". I feel that name my inmost thoughts controul, And earth recedes before my swimming eye; And breathe an awful itillness thro' my soul; When trembling on the doubtful edge of fate As by a charm, the waves of grief subside;

litand, and tretch my view to either state ; Impetuous paflion ftops her headlong tide: Teach me to quit this tranhtory scene At thy felt presence all emotions ceale,

With decent triumph and a look ferene; And my hush'd spirit finds a sudden peace,

Teach me to fix my ardent hopes on high, Till ev'ry worldly thought within me dies, And, having liv'd to thee, in thee to die. And earth's gay pageants vanjih from my eyes, Till all my senie is lost in infinite,

§ 54. A Summer Evening's Meditation. And one vast object fills my aching light.

Mrs. Barbauld. But soon, alas! this holy calm is broke;

One sun by day, by night ten thousand tinc.

YOUNG. My soul submits to wear her wonted yoke; With thackled pinions strives to foar in vain, Has spent his thort-livd rage: more gratefu

'Tis past! the sul ry tyrant of the south And mingles with the drofs of earth again.

hours
But he, our gracious Mafter, kind as juít,
Knowing our frame, remembers man is dust. Move filent on: the skies no more repel
His spirit, ever brooding o'er our mind,

The dazzled light; but, with inild maiden beam Sees the first wish to better hopes inclin'd;

Of temper'd light, invite the cherish'd eye Marks the young dawn of ev'ry virtuous aim, To wander o'er their sphere; where hung alof And fans the smoaking flax into a flame.

Dian's bright crescent, like a silver bow His ears are open to the softelt cry,

New Itrung in heaven, lifts high its beamy borns His grace descends to meet the lifted eye;

Impatient for the night, and seems to puth He reads the language of a silent tear,

Her brother down the sky. Fair Venus shines And fighs are incenle from a heart fincere.

Ev‘n in the eye of day; with sweetest beam Such are the vows, the facrifice I give:

Propitious thines, and thakes a trembling flooc Accept the vow, and bid the suppliant live:

Of soften'd rasliance from her dewy locks. From each terrestrial bondage let me free;

The lhadows spread apace; while meeken's Eve, Still ev'ry wish that centers not in thee;

Her check yer varm with blulhes, flow retires Bid my fond hopes, my vain disquiets ceare,

Thro' the fleíperian gardens of the welt, And point my path to everlasting peace.

And thuts the gates of day. 'Tis now the hour If the soft hand of winning pleasure leads

When Comtemplation, from her funless haunts, By living waters, and thro' How'ry meads,

The cool damp glotto, or the lonely depth When all is smiling, tranquil and serene,

Of unpierced woods, were wrapt in lilent shade, And vernal beauty paints the fatt'ring icene, And.fed on thoughts unripen'd by the sun,

She mus d away the gaudy hours of noon, Oh! teach me to elude each latent snare, And whisper to my hiding he:rt-Beware!

Moves forward; and with radiant finger points With caution let me hear the Syren's voice,

To yon blue concave swelld by breath divine, And doubtful, with a trembling heart rejoice. Where, one by one, the living eyes of heaven If friendless in a vale of tears I tray, (way,

Awake, quick kindling o'er the face of æther Where briers wound, and thorns perplex my

One boundless blaze; ten thousand trembling Still let 'my steady soul thy goodness see,

fires, And with strong confidence, lay hold on thee; And dancing luitres, where the unsteady eye, With equal eye my various lot receive,

Refless and dazzled, wanders unconfin'd Rcfign'd to die, or resolute to live;

O'er all this field of glories: spacious field, Prepard to kiss the sceptre or the rod,

And worthy of the mafier: he whose hand, While God is seen in all, and all in God.

With bieroglyphics elder shan the Nile, I read his awful name emblazon'd high

Infcrib’d the myitic tablet; hung on high liith golden letters on th' illumin'd sky.

To public grace; and trid, Adore, o man,
The finger of thy God! From what pure wells

OL

With recollected tendernels, on all
The various busy scenes the left below,

Of milky light, what soft o'erflowing urn. Said, Thuslet all things be, and thus they were,
Arail hele lamps fo filled these friendly lamps, where thall I seek thy presence? how unblam'd
For ever streaming o'er the azure deep Invoke thy dread perfection ?-
To point our path and light us to our home. Have the broad eyelids of the morn beheld thee?
How fat they slide along their lucid spheres! Or does the beamy thoulder of Orion
And, filent as the foot of time, fulfil

Support thy throne ! o look with pity down
Tbeir destin'd courses: Nature's self is huch'd, On erring, guilty man! not in thy names
Ani, but a scatter'd leaf which ruftles thro' Of terror clad; not with those thunders arm'd
The thick-wove folige, not a found is heard That conscious Sinai felt, when fear appallid
To break the midnight air; tho' the rais'd ear, The scatter'd tribes! Thou hast a gentler voice
latenfely lift'ning, drinks in ev'ry breath. That whispers comfort to the swelling heart,
How deep the filence, yet how loud the praise! Abalh’d, yet longing to behold her Maker.
But are they filent all? or is there not But now my soul,unus'd to stretch her pow'rs.
A tongue in ev'ry ftar that talks with man, In fights fo daring, drops her weary wing,
And soos him to be wise? nor woos in vain :

And seeks again the known accustom'd spot, This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, Dreft up with fun, and thade, and lawns, and And wisdom mounts her zenith with the Itars. A manfion fairandspacious forits guest, (streams; At this still hour the self-collected soul

And full replete with wonders. Let me here, Turns iaward and beholds a stranger there

Content and grateful, wait the appointed time, of high descent

, and more than mortal rank; And ripen for the skies ; the hour will come An cubiyo God; a spark of fire divine, When all thefe fplendours buriting on my fight Which muft burn on for ages, when the sun

Shall stand unveilid, and to my ravishd sente (Fair tranftory creature of a day)

Unlock the glories of the world unknown.
Has co’d his golden eye, and wrapt in Mades,
Forreis bis wanted journey thro' the east.
Ye citadels of light, and feats of Gods !

$ 55. Hymn to Content. Mrs. Barbauld,

-natura beatos Perhaps say future bome, from whence the foul, Omnibus effe decit, fi quis cognoverit uti. Claude Revolving periodspalt, may oft look back,

O thou, the Nymph with placid eye!
O feldom found, yet ever nigh !

Receive my temp'rate vow :
Its deep-las, projects and its strange events,

Not all the storms that shake the pole,
As on some fond and doting tale that footh'd Can e'er disturb thy halcyon soul,
To tread the ballow'd circle of your courts,

And smooth unalter'd brow.
O come, in fimple vest array'd,

With all thy sober cheer display'd,

-Seiz'd in
Da fancy's
wild and roving wing I fail (thought. Thy mien compos'd, thy even pace,

To bless my longing fight;
From the green borders of the peopled earti, Thy meek regard, thy matron grace,
And the pale moon, her duteous fair attendant ?
From folitary Mars
; from the vast orb

And chalte subdu'd delight.
Of Jupiter, whose huge gigantic bulk

No more by varying passions beat, Dances in ether like the lightelt leaf ;

O gently guide my pilgrim feet To the dim verge, the suburbs of the system,

To find thy hermit cell;
Where cheerless saturn 'midst his wat’rý moons, Beneath thy soft indulgent eye

Where in some pure and equal sky
Gin with a lucid zoue, in gloomy pomp,
Stä like an exild monarch: fearless thence

The modest virtues dwell,

Simplicity in Attic vest, en e burning round,tenthou and fruns appear, And Innocence

with candid breast, Of elder beam ; which alk no leave to shine

And clear undaunted eye; of our terrestrial ftar, nor borrow light

And Hope, who points to distant years, from the proud regent of our scanty day;

Fair op'ning thro' this vale of tears des of the morning, first-born of creation,

A vista to the tky, And caly less than him who marks their track, There Health, thro' whose calm bofom glide Ant guides their fiery wheels. Here mult I stop, The temp’ate joys in even tide, Or is there aught beyond? What hand unseen That rarely ebb or flow; Inaels te onward thro' the glowing orbs

And patience there, thy fifter meek, Ci habitshle nature, far remote,

Presents her mild unvarying cheek To the dread confines of eternal night,

To meet the offer's blow.
To folitudes of valt unpeopled space,

Her influence taught the Phrygian sage
The dekes of creation, wide and wild, A tyrant's master's wanton rage
Where embryo syitems and unkindled luns Withi settied smiles to meet;
Sleep in the womb of chaos? Fancy droo's, nard to toii and bitter bread,
And thoughe astonish'd itops her bold career. He bow'd his meek submitted head,
Batoh thou mighty Mind! whose pow'rfulword And kiss'd thy fainted feet,

E

that

Her infant bours- be it lawful now
And with mute sonder and delighted awe
Approach your burning confines!

Воок : But thou, O Nymph, retir'd and coy!

My woes here thall close

ne'er,
In what brown hainlet dolt thou joy

But with the closing tomb!
To tell thy tender tale?

Happy! ye sons of busy life,
The lowliest children of the ground, Who, equal to the bustling strife,
Mots-rose and violet bloliom round,

No other view regard !
And lily of the vale.

Ev'n when the wished end's denied,
O say what soft propitious hour

Yet, while the buty means are plied,
I beit may choose to hail thy pow'r,

They bring their own reward :
And court thy gentle sway!

Whilft I, a hope abandon'd wight,
When Autumn, friendly to the Muse,

Unfitted with an airn,
Shall thy own modest tints diffuse,

Meet ev'ry sad returning night
And thed thy milder day:

And joyless morn the same.
When Eve, her dewy ftar beneath,

You, bustling and justling
Thy balmy spirit loves to breathe,

Forget each grief and pain;

I, listless yet reltless
And ev'ry storm is laid ;
If such an hour was e'er thy choice,

Find ev'ry prospect vain,
Oft let me hear thy soothing voice

How blest the Solitary's lot,
Low wbisp'ring thro' the Thade.

Who ali-forgetting, all-forgot,

Within this huinble ceil,

The cavern wild with tangling roots,
$ 56. To Vidim. Mrs. Barbauld.
Doua prxfentis rape laetus horæ, ac

Sits o'er his newly-gather'd fruits,
Linque severa.

HORAT.

Belide his crystal well! O WISDOM! if thy soft control

Or haply to his ev'ning thought, Can footh the sickness of the soul,

By unfrequented ftream, Can bid the warring passions cease,

The ways of men are distant brought, And breathe the calm of tender peace;

A faint-collected dream : Wisdom ! I bless thy gentle sway,

While praising, and raising And ever, ever will obey.

His thoughts to Heav'n on high, But if thou com 'st with frown austere

As wand'ring, meand'ring, To nurse the brood of care and fear;

He views the solemn 1ky, To bid our sweetest passions die,

Than I, no lonely Hermit placid And leave us in their room a ligh?

Where never human footitep trac'd, Or if thine aspect stern have pow'r.

Less fit to play the part, To wither each poor transient flow'r

The lucky moment to improve, That cheers this pilgrimage of woe,

And just to stop and just to move, And dry the fprings whence hope Mould flow; With felf-relpecting art: Wisdom, thine empire ( disclaim,

But ah! those pleasures, loves, and joys, Thou empty boast of pompous name !

Which I too keenly taste, In gloomy shade of cloisters dwell,

The Solitary can despise, but never haunt my cheerful cell.

Can want, and yet be blest!

He needs not, he heeds not,
Hail to pleasure's frolic train !

Or human love or hate;
Hail to fancy's golden reign !
Festive mirth and laughter wild,

Whilft I here, must cry here,
Free and sportful as the child !

At perfidy ingrate ! Hope with eager sparkling eyes,

Oh! enviable early days, And eafy faith and fond surprise!

When dancing thoughtless Pleasure's maze, Let thele, in fairy colours drest,

To Care, to Guilt unknown ! For ever share my careless breast:

How ill exchang'd for riper times, Then, tho' wise I pray not be,

To feel the follies or the crimes
The wise themselves thall envy me.

of others, or my own!
Ye tiny elves, that guiltless sport

Liké linoets in the bush, $5?. Defpond noy. rin Ode. Burns.

Ye little know the ills ye conrt,
OPPRESS'D with griet, opprefs d with care,
A burden more than I can bear,

When manhood is your wish!
I sit me down and ligh:

The losses, the crosses,
O life! thou art a galling load,

That active man engage; Along a rough, a weary road,

The fears all, the tears all,
To wretches fuch as I!

Of dim declining age !
Diin hackward as I cast my view,
What lick’ning scenes appear?

$ 58 The Frailty and Folly of Man. Prior. What sorrows yet miy pierce ne through, Great Heav'n! how frail thy creature Man Too juilly I may tear!

is made! Stil caring, despairing

How by himself insensibly betray'd !
Muit be my bitter doom;