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My God; all nature owns thy sway,
Or when in paler tints array'd,
In ev'ry scene thy hands have dress’d, In ev'ry form by thee impress’d, Upon the mountain's awful head, Or where the shelt'ring woods are spread; In ev'ry note that swells the gale, Or tuneful stream that cheers the vale, The cavern's depth or echoing grove, A voice is heard of praise and love.
As o'er thy work the seasons roll, And soothe, with change of bliss, the soul, Ob! never may their smiling train Pass o'er the human scene in vain! But oft as on the charm we gaze, Attune the wond’ring soul to praise ; And be the joys that most we prize, The joys that from thy favour rise !
ODE TO PEACE.
COME, Peace of Mind, delightful guest :
Once more, in this sad heart,
We therefore need not part.
Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me,
And Pleasure's fatal wiles ?
The banquet of thy smiles ?
shall they partake The heaven that thou alone canst make;
And wilt thou quit the stream
grove, and the sequester'd shade, To be a guest with them?
For thee I panted; thee I priz'd;
Whate'er I loved before.
Farewell! we meet no more ?
Renew'd, the earth a robe of light,
A robe of beauty wears;
Leads in the promis'd year.
The kingdom of Messiah come,
Appointed times disclose; And fairer in Emmanuel's land
The new creation glows.
Let Israel to the Prince of Peace
The loud hosannah sing.
o Zion, hail thy King!
[REV. HOBART CAUNTER.]
There is a tear that spots the eek,
There is a tear that through the soul
There is a tear whose mute appeals
There is a tear that trickles still
There is a tear that dims the eye,
There is a tear that fiercely starts,
But there 's a tear that gently flows,
But then, this spark that warms, that guides, That lives, that thinks—what fate betides?
Can this be dust?-a kneaded clod ! This yield to death! the soul, the mind, That measures heaven, and mounts the wind,
That knows at once itself and God ! Great cause of all, above, below,Who knows Thee, must for ever know
Thou art immortal and divine! Thine image on my soul imprest, Of endless being is the test,
And bids eternity be mine!
Joys only to the just decreed !-
That endless misery may succeed !
[Mrs. CARTER ] COME, Melancholy, silent pow'r, Companion of my lonely hour,
To sober thought confin'd!
Indulge my pensive mind.
In folly's noisy stream;
Thy philosophic dream.