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And on benighted reason poured the day,
“Let there be peace,” He said, and all was calm
Amongst the warring world-calm as the sea
When, “Oh! be still, ye boisterous winds," He cried,
And not a breath was blown nor murmur heard.
His was a life of miracle and might,
And charity and love: ere yet He taste
The bitter draught of death, ere yet He rise
Victorious o'er the universal foe,
And death, and sin, and hell in triumph lead.
His by the right of conquest is mankind,
And in sweet servitude and golden bonds
Were tied to Him for ever. Oh! how easy
Is his ungalling yoke, and all his burdens
'Tis ecstasy to bear! Him, blessed Shepherd,
His flocks shall follow through the maze of life,
And shades that tend the day spring from on high ;
And as the radiant roses, after fading,
In fuller foliage and more fragrant breath
Revive in smiling spring, so shall it fare
With those that love Him; for sweet is their savour,
And all eternity shall be their spring.
Then shall the gates and everlasting doors,
At which the King of Glory enters in,
Be to the saints unbarred, and there, where pleasure
Boasts an undying bloom; where dubious hope
Is certainty, and grief-attended love
Is freed from passion ;-there we'll celebrate,
With worthier numbers, Him who is and was,
And, in immortal prowess, King of kings,
Shall be the monarch of all worlds for ever!

GOODNESS OF GOD. ORPHEUS, (for so the Gentiles called thy name,) Israel's sweet Psalmist, who alone could wake The inanimate to motion; who alone

The joyful hillocks, the applauding rocks,
And floods, with musical persuasion drew;
Thou who to hail and snow gavest voice and sound,
And madest the mute melodious! greater yet
Was thy divinest skill, and ruled o'er more
Than art and nature; for thy tuneful touch
Drove trembling Satan from the heart of Saul,
And quelled the evil angel; in this breast
Some portion of thy genuine spirit breathe,
And lift me from myself; each thought impure,
Banish; each low idea raise, refine,
Enlarge and sanctify; so shall the muse
Above the stars aspire, and aim to praise
Her God on earth as He is praised in heaven.

Immense Creator! whose all-powerful hand
Framed universal being, and whose eye
Saw, like Thyself, all things were formed for good;
Where shall the timorous bard thy praise begin,
Where end the purest sacrifice of song
And just thanksgiving ? The thought-kindling light,
Thy prime production, darts upon my mind;
Its vivifying beams my heart illumes,
And fills my soul with gratitude and Thee.
Hail to the cheerful rays of ruddy morn
That paint the streaky east, and blithesome rouse
The birds, the cattle, and mankind from rest.
Hail to the freshness of the early breeze,
And Iris dancing on the new-fallen dew.
Without the aid of yonder golden globe,
Lost were the garnet's lustre, lost the lily,
The tulip and auricula's spotted pride;
Lost were the peacock’s plumage, to the sight
So pleasing in its pomp and glossy show.
O! thrice illustrious, were it not for thee,
Those pansies, that reclining from the bank,
View through th' immaculate pellucid stream
Their portraiture in the inverted heaven,
Might as well change their triple boast the while,

The purple and the gold, that far outvie
The eastern monarch's garment, e'en with the dock,
E'en with the baleful hemlock’s irksome green ;
Without thy aid, without thy gladsome beams,
The tribes of woodland warblers would remain
Mute on the bending branches, nor recite
The praise of Him, who ere He formed their lord,
Their voices tuned to transport, winged their flight,
And bade them call for nurture, and receive:
And lo! they call; the blackbird and the thrush,
The woodlark and the redbreast, jointly call ;
He hears and feeds their feathered families;
He feeds his sweet musicians, nor neglects
The invoking ravens in the greenwood wide;
And though their throats coarse rattling meet the ear,
They mean it all for music, thanks and praise;
They mean, and leave ingratitude to man.
But not to all !—for hark! the organs blow
Their swelling notes round the cathedral's dome,
And grace the harmonious choir, celestial feast
To pious ears, and medicine of the mind!
The thrilling trebles, and the manly base,
Join in accordance meet, and with one voice
All to the sacred subject suit their song.
While in each breast sweet melancholy reigns
Angelically pensive, till the joy
Improves and purifies; the solemn scene
The sun through storied panes surveys with awe,
And bashfully withholds each golden beam.
Here, as her home, from morn to eve frequents
The cherub Gratitude; behold her eyes !
With love and gladness weepingly they shed
Ecstatic smiles; the incense that her hands
Uprear, is sweeter than the breath of May
Caught from the nectarine's blossom, and her voice
Is more than voice can tell; to Him she sings,
To Him who feeds, who clothes, and who adorns,
Who made, and who preserves, whatever dwells

In air, in stedfast earth, or fickle sea. Oh! He is good, He is immensely good! Who all things formed, and formed them all for man; Who marked the climates, varied every zone, Dispensing all his blessings for the best, In order and in beauty! Rise, attend, Attest, and praise, ye quarters of the world! Bow down, ye elephants, submissive bow To Him who made the mite. Though, Asia's pride, Ye carry armies on your tower-crowned backs, And grace the turbaned tyrants, bow to Him Wbo is as great, as perfect, and as good In his less striking wonders, till at length The eye's at fault and seeks the assisting glass; Approach, and bring from Araby the Blest The fragrant cassia, frankincense and myrrh, And, meekly kneeling at the altar's foot, Lay all the tributary incense down. Stoop, feeble Africa, with reverence stoop,. And from thy brow take off the painted plume; With golden ingots all thy camels load To adorn his temples ; hasten with thy spear Reverted, and thy trusty bow unstrung, While, unpursued, thy lions roam and roar, And ruined towers, rude rocks, and caverns wide, Remurmur to the glorious surly sound. And thou, fair India, whose immense domain To counterpoise the hemisphere, extends, Haste from the west, and with thy fruits and flowers, Thy mines and medicines, wealthy maid, attend. More than the plenteousness so famed to flow, By fabling bards, from Amalthea's horn, Is thine! thine, therefore, be a portion due Of thanks and praise : come with thy brilliant crown And vest of fur; and from thy fragrant lap, Pomegranates and the rich ananas pour. But chiefly thou, Europa, seat of grace And Christian excellence, his goodness own;

Forth from ten thousand temples pour his praise ;
Clad in the armour of the living God,
Approach, unsheath the Spirit's flaming sword ;
Faith's shield, salvation's glory-compassed helm,
With fortitude assume, and o'er your heart
Fair truth's invulnerable breast-plate spread;
Then join the general chorus of all worlds,
And let the sons of charity begin,
In strains seraphic and melodious prayer:

“O All-sufficient, All-beneficent!
Thou God of goodness and of glory, hear!
Thou who to lowest minds dost condescend,
Assuming passions to enforce thy laws,
Adopting jealousy to prove thy love!
Thou who resigned humility upholdest,
E'en as the florist props the drooping rose;
But quellest tyrannic pride with peerless power,
E’en as the tempest rives the stubborn oak !
O All-sufficient, All-beneficent!
Thou God of goodness and of glory, hear !
Bless all mankind, and bring them in the end
To heaven, to immortality, and Thee!”


SUBLIME invention, ever young,
Of vast conception, towering tongue,

To God the eternal theme;
Notes from your exaltations caught,
Unrivalled royalty of thought,

O'er meaner thoughts supreme.

His muse, bright angel of his verse,
Gives balm for all the thorns that pierce,

For all the pangs that rage :
Blest light, still gaining on the gloom,
The more than Michal of his bloom,

The Abishag of his age.

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