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Thus Adam smil'd with new-born grace,
Life's flame inspir'd by heav'nly birth : Thus the same breath sweeps off his race, Disorders Nature's beauteous face,
And spreads disease and death.
Stripp'd of her pride the vessel rolls,
And as by sympathy she knew The secret anguish of our souls, With inward deeper groans condoles
The danger of her crew.
Now what avails it to be brave,
On liquid precipices hung ? Suspended on a breaking wave, Beneath us yawn'd a sea-green grave,
And silenc'd every tongue.
The faithless flood forsook her keel,
And downward launch'd the lah'ring hull, Stunn'd, she forgot awhile to reel, And felt almost, or seem'd to feel,
A momentary luil.
Thus in the jaws of death we lay,
Nor light, nor comfort found us there,
Of hope, but all despair.
The nearer shore, the more despair,
While certain ruin waits on land ! Should we pursue our wishes there, Soon we recant the fatal pray'r,
And strive to shun the strand.
At length the Being whose behest
Reduc'd his chaos into form, His goodness and his pow'r express'd, He spoke-and as a God suppress'd
Our troubles, and the storm.
The satraps thronged the hall;
O’er that high festival.
In Judah deemed divine-
The godless heathen's wine.
The fingers of a hand
And wrote as if on sand :
A solitary hand
And traced them like a wand.
And bade no more rejoice ;
And tremulous his voice.
The wisest of the earth,
Which mar our royal mirth.'
Chaldea's seers are good,
But here they have no skill;
Untold and awful still.
Are wise and deep in lore,
They saw-hut knew no more.
A stranger and a youth,
He saw that writing's truth.
The prophecy in view;
The morrow proved it true.
His kingdom passed away,
Is light and worthless clay.
His canopy the stone;
The Persian on his throne !!
ON RECOVERING FROM ILLNESS.
The remnant of my days:
But to renew thy praise?
Thine arms of everlasting love,
Did this weak frame sustain ;
From every sinking vein.
On thy dear faithful breast,
To his eternal rest.
At thy command I come :
There would I choose to be :
And earth is heaven with thee.
HYMN OF PRAISE.
[PEARSALL.) My great Preserver! to thy gracious hand
My life and safety, and my all, I owe : New gratitude thy favours still command,
And still my num’rous obligations grow. Oft hast thou listen’d to my humble pray’r,
Oft at my cry unwearied mercy came: O be thy goodness, thy indulgent care,
My constant refuge, my delightful theme ! When warm'd with grateful love to thee, my Lord,
My thoughts begin to count thy favours o'er. The boundless sum what numbers can record ?
How vain th' attempt! Astonish'd, I adore !
Yet I may love thee: this is thy command
Thy kind command, and kindly now made known; My pow'r and passions too are in thy hand
Lord, mould and form them for thy use alone! This worthless heart to thee I would resign;
Poor as it is, thy sovereign hand can raise A monument to thee-enrich, refine,
And there inscribe thy mercies and thy praise. Thy wondrous praise not all creation's tongues,
In one harmonious concert can display; Not the celestial choir's enraptur'd songs,
Through vast eternity's unbounded day. And shall a reptile of the earth aspire
To join with angels in their high employ? Lord, at thy feet I lay my trembling lyre
In silent awe, yet mix'd with humble joy. Yet if thou bid me try the heav'nly theme,
And bless me with thy smile, my lyre again On ev'ry string shall sound thy glorious name,
Thy smile shall animate the feeble frame. If thou accept and aid my wish to praise,
Then shall my heart with glad devotion sing ; But ah, how mean the gift! her sweetest lays
To thee, my gracious God, my glorious King! All I enjoy, and all I hope, is thine
Unworthiness alone belongs to me: Inspire me, O my God, with love divine,
And make my life a hymn of praise to thee.