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Put thy bright robes of triumph on,
And blefs our eyes, and blefs our ears,
Thou abfent Love, thou dear Unknown,
Thou Fairest of ten thousand Fairs.

Our heart-ftrings groan with deep complaint,
Our flesh lies panting, Lord, for thee,
And every limb, and every joint,
Stretches for immortality.

Our spirits shake their eager wings,
And burn to meet thy flying throne;
We rife away from mortal things
T'attend thy fhining chariot down.
Now let our chearful eyes furvey
The blazing earth and melting hills,
And finile to fee the lightnings play,
And flash along before thy wheels.
O for a fhout of violent joys

To join the trumpet's thundering found !
The angel herald shakes the skies,
Awakes the graves, and tears the ground.

Ye flumbering faints, a heavenly hoft
Stands waiting at your gaping tombs;
Let every facred sleeping duft
Leap into life, for Jefus comes.

Jefus, the God of might and love,
New-moulds our limbs of cumberous clay;
Quick as feraphic-flames we move,

Active and young, and fair as they.

Our

Our airy feet with unknown flight
Swift as the motions of defire,

Run up the hills of heavenly light,
And leave the weltering world in fire.

Bewailing my own Inconftancy..

I LOVE the Lord; but ah! how far
My thoughts from the dear object are!
This wanton heart how wide it roves!
And fancy meets a thousand loves.

If my foul burn to fee my God,
I tread the courts of his abode,
But troops of rivals throng the place,
And tempt me off before his face.

Would I enjoy my Lord alone,
I bid my paffions all be gone,
All but my love; and charge my will
To bar the door and guard it ftill.

But cares, or trifles, make, or find,
Still new avenues to the mind,
Till I with grief and wonder fee,
Huge crowds betwixt the Lord and me.

Oft I am told the Mufe will prove

A friend to piety and love;
Strait I begin fome facred fong,

And take my Saviour on my tongue.

Strangely

Strangely I lose his lovely face,
To hold the empty founds in chace;
At beft the chimes divide my heart,
And the Muse shares the larger part.

Falfe confident! and falfer breast!
Fickle, and fond of every guest :
Each airy image as it flies

Here finds admittance through my eyes.

This foolish heart can leave her God,
And shadows tempt her thoughts abroad :
How fhall I fix this wandering mind?
Or throw my fetters on the wind?

Look gently down, Almighty Grace,
Prison me round in thine embrace;
Pity the foul that would be thine,
And let thy power my love confine.

Say, when shall the bright moment be
That I fhall live alone for Thee,

My heart no foreign Lords adore,

And the wild Mufe prove false no more?

FOR

FORSAKEN, yet

HAP

HOPING.

APPY the hours, the golden days,
When I could call my Jefus mine,
And fit and view his fmiling face,
And melt in pleasures all-divine.

Near to my heart, within my arms
He lay, till fin defil'd my breast,
Till broken vows, and earthly charms,
Tir'd and provok'd my heavenly guest.

And now He's gone, (O mighty woe !)
Gone from my foul, and hides his love!
Curfe on you, fins, that griev'd Him fo,
Ye fins, that forc'd him to remove.

Break, break, my heart; complain, my tongue :
Hither, my friends, your forrows bring:
Angels, affift my doleful fong,

If you have e'er a mourning ftring.

But, ah! your joys are ever high,
Ever his lovely face you see;
While my poor spirits pant and die,
And groan, for Thee, my God, for Thee.

Yet let my hope look through my tears,
And spy afar his rolling throne;
His chariot through the cleaving fpheres
Shall bring the bright Beloved down.

M

Swift

Swift as a roe flies o'er the hills,

My foul fprings out to meet him high,
Then the fair Conqueror turns his wheels,
And climbs the manfions of the sky.

There fmiling joy for ever reigns,
No more the turtle leaves the dove;
Farewell to jealoufies, and pains,
And all the ills of abfent love.

E

THE CONCLUSION.

GOD exalted above all Praife.

TERNAL Power! whofe high abode
Becomes the grandeur of a God;

Infinite length beyond the bounds

Where ftars revolve their little rounds.

The lowest fep above thy feat

Rifes too high for Gabriel's feet,

In vain the tall Arch-angel tries

To reach thine height with wondering eyes.
Thy dazzling beauties whilft he fings,
He hides his face behind his wings;
And ranks of shining thrones around
Fall worshiping, and spread the ground.

Lord, what fhall earth and afhes do!
We would adore our Maker too;

From fin and duft to thee we cry,

The Great, the Holy, and the High!

Earth

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