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Nor less the mystic characters I see

Of milky light, what soft o'crflowing um. Wrought in cach flow'r, inscrib'd on ev'ry tree : Are all these lamps so fill'd? these friendly lamps, In ev'ry leaf' that trembles to the breeze For ever strcaning o'er the azure deep I hear the roice of God among the trees; To point our patli and light us to our home. With thee in shady solitudes I walk

How soft they slide along their luciel spheres ! With thee in busy crowded cities talk ; And, silent as the foot of time, fulfil In ev'ry creature own thy forming pow'r, Their destin'd courses: Naturc's self is hushid, In each event thy providence adore.

And, but a scarier'd leaf which rustles thro' Thy hopes shall animate my drooping soul, The thick-wore foliage, not a sound is heard Thy precepts guide me, and thy fear control. To break the midnight air ; tho' the rais'd car, Thus shall I rest unmov'd by all alarms, Intensely list’ning, drinks in ev'ry breath. Secure within the temple of thine arins, How deep the silence, yet how loud the praise ! From anxions cares, from gloomy terrors free, But are they silent all? or is there not And feed myself omnipotent in the

A tongue in ev'ry star that talks with man, Then,when the last, theclosing hourdrawsnigh, And woos him to be wise? nor woos in vain • And earth recedles before my swimming eye; This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, When trembling on the doubtful edge of fate And wisilom mounts her zenith with the stars. I stand, and stretch my view to either state; At this still hour the self-collected soul Teach me to qnit this transitory scene

Turns inward and beholds a stranger there With decent triumph and a look serene ; Of high descent, and more than mortal rank; Teach me to fix my ardent hopes on higli, An embryo God; a spark of fire divine, Aul, having liv'd to thee, in thee to die. Which must burn on for ages, when the sun

(Fair transitory creature of a day) § 54. A Summer Evening's Meditation. Has clos'd his golden eye, and wrapt in shades,

Mrs. Barbauld. Forgets his wonted journey thro' the east. One sun by day, by night ten thousand shine. Ye citadels of light, and scats of Gods !

Young. Perhaps my future howe, from whence the soul, Tis past! the sultry tyrant of the sonth Revolving periods past, nny oft look back, Ilus spent his short-livid rage: inore grateful With recollected tendrness, on all hours

The various busy scenes she left below, Mere silent on : the skies no more repel Its deep-laid projects and its strange events, The dazzled sight; but, with mild maiden beans As on some fond and voting tole that sooth'd of temper'd light, invite the cherish'd eye Her infant hours Obcit lawful now To wander o'er their sphere; where hung aloft To tread the hallow'd circle of your courts, Dian's bright crescent, like a silver bow And with mute wonder and delighted awe New strung in heaven, lifts high its bermy horns, Approach your burning confines ! ----Seis'd in Inpatient for the night, and seems to pusli On fancy's wild and roving wing I sail (thought, Her brother down the sky. Fair Venus shines, From the green borders of the peopled earth, Exn in the eye of day; with sweetest beam And the pale moon, lier duteous fair attendant! Fropitious shines, and shakes a trembling flood From solitary Mars; from the vast orb Of soften'd radiance from her dewy locks. Of Jupiter, whose huge gigantic bulk The shadows spread apace ; while mecken'd Eve, Dances in ether like the lightest leaf; Her cheek yet warm with blushes, slow retires To the dim rerge, the suburbs of the system, Thro' the Hesperian garrlens of the west,

Where cheerless Saturn'midst his wat’ry moons, And shuts the gates of day. "Tis now the hour Girt with a lucid zone, in gloomy pomp, When Comtemplation, from her sunless haunts, Sits like an exil'a monarch: fearless thence The cool damp grotto, or the lonely kepth I launch into the trackless dlceps of space, Of unpierc'd woods, were wrapt in silent shade, Where, burning round, ten thousandsuns appear, She mus'd away the gaudy hours of noon, Of elder bear; which ask no leave to shine And fed on thoughts unripenn'd by the sun, Of our terrestrial star, nor borrow light Moves forward; and with radiant finger points From the proud rekent of our scanty day; To you blue concave swell'd by breath divine, Sons of the morning, first-born of creation,

one by one, the living eves of heaven And only less than him who marks their track, Awake, qaick kindling o'er the face of æther And guides their fiery whecis. Here must I stop, One boundless Llaze; ten thousand trembling Or is there auglit beyond: What hand unseen fires,

I mpels me onward thro’ the glowing orbs And dancing luetres, where the unsteady eye, Of habitable nature, far remote, Restles and dazzled, wanders unconfin'd To the dread confines of eternal night, O'er all this field of glories : spacious field, To solitudes of vast un peopled space, And worthy of the master : he whose hand, The desarts of crcation, wicie and wild, With hieroglyphics elder than the Nile, Where cnbryo systems and unkindled suns Inscrili'd the mystic tablet; bung on high Sleep in the woub of chaos ? Fancy droops, To public grace; and said, Adore, 'O man, And thought astonish'd stops her bold career. The finger of thy God! From what pure wells But, oli thou mighty Mind ! 'whose pow'rfulword

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Said, Thus let all things be, and thus they were, But thou o Nynıph, retir'd and coy! Where shall I seek thy presence? how unblam'd | In what brown hamlet dost thou joy Invoke thy dread perfection?

To tell thy tender tale? Have the broad eyelids of the morn beheld thee? The lowliest children of the ground, Or does the beainy shoulder of Orion

Moss-rose and violet blossom round, Support thy throne! O look with pity down And lily of the vale. On erring, guilty man! not in thy names

0 Of terror clad; not with those thunders arm'd i best may choose to hail thy pow'r,

say what soft propitious hour That conscious Sinai felt, when fear appallid

And court thy gentle sway? The scatter'd tribes! Thou hast a gentler voice

When Autumn, friendly to the Muse, That whispers comfort to the swelling heart, Abash'd, yet longing to behold her Maker.

Shall thy own modest tints diffuse,

And shed thy milder day :
But now my soul, unus'd to stretch her pow'rs
In flights so daring, drops her weary wing,

When Eve, her dewy star beneath,
And seeks again the known accustom'd spot, Thy balmy spirit loves to breathe,
Drest up with sun, and shade, and lawns, and And ev'ry stormi is laid ;
A inansion fair and spacious forits guest, [streams; If such an hour was e'er thy choice,
And full replete with wonders. "Let me here,'Oft let me hear thy soothing voice
Content and grateful, wait the appointed tine,

Low whisp'ring thro' the shade.
And ripen for the shies; the hour will come
When all these spicndors bursting on my sight
Shall stand unveild, and to my ravish'd sense
Unlock the glories of the world unknown.

$ 56. To Wisdom. Mrs. Barbauld.

Dona præsentis rape laetus horæ, ac $ 55. Iymn to Content. Mrs. Barbauld.

Linque severa.

Hor -natura beatos Omnibus esse decit, si quis cognoverit uti. Claud. O WISDOM! if thy soft control O thou, the Nymphr with placid eye! Can sooth the sickness of the soul, O seldom found, yet ever nigh!

Can bid the warring passions cease, Reccive my iemprate row.

And breathe the calın of tender peace ; Not all the storins that shake the pole,

Wisdomn! I bless thy gentle sway, Can e'er disturb thy balcyon soul,

And ever, ever will obey. And smooh unalter'd brow,

But if thou comu'st with frown austero O come, in simple vest array'd,

To nurse the brood of care and fear; With all thy sober cheer display'd,

To bid our sweetest passions die, To bless my longing sight;

And leave us in their room a sigh? Thy mien compos'd, thy even pace,

Or if thine aspect stern have pow'r Thy ineek regard, thy matron grace,

To wither each poor transient flow'r And chaste subdu'd delight.

That cheers this pilgrimage of woe, No more hy. parying passions be

And dry the springs whence hope should flow O gently guide my pilgrim feet

Wisdom, thine empire I disclaim, To find thy hermit cell;

Thou empty boast of pompous name! Where in some pure and equal sky

In gloomy shade of cloisters dwell, Beneath thy soft indulgent eye

But never haunt my cheerful.cell. The modest virtucs dwell.

Hail to pleasure's frolic train !

Hail to fancy's golien reign!
Simplicity in Attic vest,

Festive mirth and laughter wild,
And Innocence with candid breast,
And clear undaunted eye;

Free and sportful as the child !
And Hope, who points to distant years,

Hope with eager sparkling eyes,
And easy

faith and fond surprise!
Fair op'ning thro' this vale of tcars
A vista to the sky.

Let these, in fairy colors drest,

For ever share my carcless breast :
There Health, thro' whosc calın bosom glide Then, tho' wise I may not be,
The temp'rate joys in even tide,

The wise themselves shall envy me.
That rarely ebb or How ;n
And patience there, thy sister meek,
Presents her mild unvarying cheek
To meet the offer'd blow.

$ 57. Despondency. An Ode. Burns. ller influence taught the Phyrgian sage OPPress’D wiih grief, oppress'd with care, A tyrant's master's wanton rage

A burden more than I can bear, With settled smiles to meet;

I sit me down and sigh: Jnur'd to toil and bitter bread,

O life! thou art a galling load, He bow'd his meek submitted head,

A long a rough, a weary road, And kiss'd thy sainted feet.

To wretches such as I !


I, liseless yet

Dim backward as I cast my view,

58. The Frailty und Folly of Man. Prior. Iliat sick'nin, scenes appear? What sorrows yet may pierce me through, Great Heav'n! how frail thy creature Man Tuo justly I may fear!

is made! Süll ciring, despairing

Ilow by himself in nsibly betray'd! Must be muy bitter doom ;

In our own strengti unhappily secure,
My woes here shall close nc'er,

Too little cautious of the adverse pow'r ;
But with the closing tumb!

And, by the blast of self-opinion mov'd,
Ilappy! ye sons of busy life,

We wish to charm, and seek to be belov'd. Who, equal to the basiling strife,

On pleasure's How'ry brink we idly stray, No ciher view regard !

Masters as yet of our returning way: Ex'o whics the wished end's denied,

Seeing darger, we disarm our mind, Yet while the busy means are plial,

And give our conduct to the waves and wind : They bring their own reward:

Then in the fivwrv micad, or verdant sha de, Whilst í, a bope-abundon'd wight,

To wanton dallianke negligently laid, Unfitted with an aim,

We weave the chapt, and we crown the bowl,' Meet ev'ry sad returniirg niglit

And smiling see the nearer waters roll: And joyless inom tlie same.

Till the strong gusts of raging jkissjon rise, Yon, bustling and justling

Till the dire tempest mingles earth and skies ; Forget each griet and pain;

And, swift into the bouniless ocean borne, restless

Our foolishi continence too late we pour : Find ev'ry prospect vain.

Round our devoted heads the billows beat; Ilow blest the Solitary's lot,

And from our troubled yiew the lesscu'd lands Wo all-forzetting, all-furgot,

retreat. Within this humble cell, The cavern wilt with tangling roots,

$59. A Paraphrase on the latter Part of the Sixth Sits oor his newly gather's fruits,

Cluplerof St. Matthew. Thomson. Beside lais crystal well!

When my breast labors with oppressive care, Orlaply to his ei'ning thought,

And o'er iny cheek descends the falling tear; By untrequented stream,

While all my warring passions are at strife, The ways of men are distant brouglıt,

Oh let me listeu to the words of life! A fajar-colleted dream:

Raptures deep felt lris doctrine did impart, While praising, and raising

Jud thus he rais'd from earth the drooping heart: Ilis thoughts to Leav'n on high,

Think not, when all your scanty stores afford As wand'ring, meand'ring,

Is spread at once upon the sparing board ; le views the soleno skr.

Think not, when worn tvehomely robe appears, Than I, no lonely Hernit plac'd

IFhile on the roof the lowling tempest bears ; Where never human footstep trac'd,

What farther shall this feeble life sustain, Lens fit to play the part,

And whatshall clothe these shiv'ring limbs again. The lucky moment to improve,

Say, does not lite its nourishment exceed ? And just to stop and just to inove,

And the fair boly its investing weed ? With self-respecting art :

Behold! and look away your low despair But ah! those pieasures, loves, and joys, See the light tenants of the barren air: Which I too keenly taste,

To them nor stores nor granaries belong, The Solitary can despise,

Nought but the woodland and the pleasing song; Can want, and yet be blest!

Yet your kind bcav'nly Father bends his eye He needs not, he heels not,

On the least wing that fits along the sky,
O, human love or hate!

To him they sing wlien spring renews the plain, Whilst I here, must cry here,

To Irm they cry in winter's pinching reign; At perfidy ingrate!

Vor is their music or their plaint in vain; Ol! enviable early days,

Ile hears the gay and the distressful call, When dancing thoughtless Pleasure's maze, And with unspåring bounty fills them all To Care, to Guilt unknown!

Observe the rising lily's snowy grace, How ill exchang‘d for riper times,

Observe the various vegetable race: To feel the follies or the crinies

They neither toil nor spiu, but careless grow, Of others, or my own!

Yet see how warm they blush! how bright they Ye tiny elves, that guiltless sport

glow! Likelinneis in the bush. What regal veştients can with them compare

c? Ye little know the ills ye court,

What king so shining, or what qucen so fair? When manhood is yoạr wish! The losses, the crosses,

If ceaseless thus the fowls of heav'n he feeds,

If o'er the fields such lucid robes he spreads,
That active man engage;

Will he not care for you, ye faithless, say?
The fears all, the tears all,
Ol din declining aye!

Is he unwise? or are ye less than they?
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$ 60

the sun,

$ 60. The Sluggurd. Watts.

But I have less sense than a poor creeping

If I take not due care for the things I shall » 'Tis the voice of a sluggard -- I heard him

Nor provide against dangers in time : coinplain,

(again." | When death or old age shall stare in my fa • You have wak'd me too soon, I must sinmber What a wretch shall I be in the end of inya As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed [head. If I trifle away all their prime! Turns his sides and his shoulders, and his heavy “A little more sleep and a little more slumber." Now, now, while my strength and my youth Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours Let me think what will serve me when sickn

in bloom,

[shall cor without number;

And And when he gets up, le sits folling his hands, Let me read in good books, and believe and olie

that iny sins be forgiven; Or walks about sauntring, or trifling he stands. That, when death turns me out of this cotta I pass'd by his garden and saw the wild brier,

I may dwell in a palace in heaven. (of cla Thethorn and the thistle growbroader andhigher; The clothes that hangon him are turning to rags ; Andhis moneystillwastes, till he starresorhe begs.

$ 63. A Summer Evening. Watts. I made him a visit, still hoping to find He had took better care for improving his mind; How fine has the day been, how bright was He told me his dreams, talk'dofeating & drinking, But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves How lovely and joyful the course that he run, thinking.

Though he rose in a unist when his race he begun, Said I then to my heart, “ Here's a lesson forme; And there follow'd some droppings of rain! "That inan's but a picture of what I might be;

But now the fair traveller's come to the west, But thanks to niy friends for their care in mx His rays all are gold, and his beauties are hest; breeding,


!" He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest, Who taught nie betimes to love working and

And foretels a bright rising again.
Just such is the Christian : his course he begins

Like thesunina inisi, when he mournsforhissins, $ 61. The Rose. Watts.

Andinelts into tears; then he breaks out & shincs, How fair is the Rose! wlmt a beautiful flow'r! And travels his heavenly way: The glory of April and May!

But, when he comes nearer to finish his race, But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour, Like a fine setting sun, be looks richer in grace, And they wither and die in a day.

And gives a sure bope at the end of his days Yet the rose has one powerful virtue to boast, Of rising in brighter array!

Above all the flow'rs of the field : [lost, When its leaves are all dead, and fine colors are Still how sweet a perfume it will yield !

$ 64. The Nunc Dimilis. Merrick. So frail is the youth and the beauty of men, Tho' they bloom and look

"Tis enough-the hour is come : like the rose ;

gay But all our fond care to preserve them is vain ; Let this mortal frame decay,

Now within the silent tomb Time kills them as fast

Mingled with its kindred clay; Then I'll not be proud of my youthor my beauty, Since thy mercies, oft of old Since both of them wither and fade;

By thy chosen seers foretold, But gain a good name by well doing my duty: Faithful now and stedfast prave, This will scent like a rose when I'm dead.

God of truth, and God of love!

Since at length my aged eye $ 62. The Ant, or Emmet. Watts, Sees the day-spring from on high! These emmets, how little they are in our eyes!

Son of righteousness, to thee, We tread thein to dust, and a troup of them Lo! the nations bow the knee;

And the realms of distant kings dies, Without our regard or concern :

Own the healing of thy wings.
Yet as wise as we are, if we went to their school, Those whom death had overspread

With his dark and Treary shade,
There's many a sluggard, and many a fool,
Sonne lessons of wisdom might learn.

Lift their eyes, and from afar

Hail the light of Jacob's Star; They don't wear their iimeoutin sleepingorplay, Waiting till the promis'd ray But gather upcorn in a sun shiny day, Turn their darkness into day;

And for winter they lay up their siores : See the beams intensely sheil, They manage their work in such regular forms, shine o'er Sion's favor'd head! One would think they foresüw all the frosts and Never may they hence remore, the storms,

God of truth and God of love! And so brought their food within doors.

as he



$65. The Benedicite paraphrased. Merrick. Yc frosts, that bind the wat'ry plain,

Ye silent show'rs of Acecy rain, Ye works of God, on him alone,

Pursue the heav'nly theme ; In earth his footstool, heav'n his throne,

Praise hiro who sheds the driving snow, Be all your praise bestow'd;

Forbids the harden'd waves to flow,
Whose hand the beauteous fabric made,

And stops the rapid stream.
Whose eye the finish'd work survey'd,
And saw that all was good.

Ye days and nights, that swiftly borne
Ye angels, that with loud acclaim

From morn to eve, from eve to morn, Admiring view'd the new-born frame,

Alternate glide away, And haild the Eternal King,

Praise liim, whose never-varying light, Again proclaim yone Maker's praise,

Absent, adds horror to the night, Again your thankful voices raise,

But, present, gives the day. And touch the tuneful string.

Light, from whose ravs all beauty springs ; Praise him, ye biest æthereal plains,

Darkness, whose wide-expanded wings Where, in full majesty, he deigns

Involve the dusky globe ; To fix his awful throne:

Praise him who, when the heav'ns he spread, Ye waters that abore him roll,

Darkness his thick pavilion made, From orb to orb, from pole to pole,

And light his regal robe,
O make his praises known!

Praise him, ye lightnings, as ye fly.
Ye thrones, dominions, virtues, pow'rs,
Join ye your joyful songs with ours;

Wing'd wiili his vengeance thro' the sky,

And red with wrath divine; With us your voices raise !

Praise him, ye clouds that wand'ring stray, From age to age extend the lay, To Heaven's Eternal Monarch pay

Or, fix'd by him, in close array

Surround his autul shrine.
Hymns of eternal praise.
Celestial orb! whose powerful ray

Exalt, О Earth! thy I leav'nly Kins, 0;c the glad eyelids of the day,

Who bids thc plants that formi the spring Whose influence all things own;

With annual verdure bloom; Praise hin, whose courts effulgent shine

Whose frequent drops of kindly rain, With light as far excelling thine,

Prolific swell the rip'ning grain, As thine the paler inoon.

And bless thy fertile womb. Ye clitt'ring plancts of the sky,

Ye mountains, that ambitious rise, Whose laing is the abseni sun supply,

And heave your summits to the skies, With him the song pursue ;

Revere his awful nod; And let himself submissive own,

Think how you once affrighted Aled ; He borrow's from a brighter Sun

When Jordan sought his fountain-head,
The light he lends to you,

And own'd the approaching God.
Ye show'ss and dews, whose moisture shed Ye trees, that fill the rural scene;
Calls into life ihe.op'ning seed,

Ye Aow'rs, that o'er the enamellid green
To him your praises yield,

In native beauty reign; Whose influence wakes the genial birth, O praise the Ruler of the skies, Drops fatness the pregnant carth,

Whose hand the genial sap supplies, And crowns the laughing ficld.

And clothes the smiling plain. 'e winds, that oft tempestuous sweep

Ye secret springs, ye gentle rills, The ruined surface of the deep,

That murm'ring rise among the hills,
With us confess your God;

Or fill the humble vale;
Se thro' the heav'ns the King of kings, Praise him, at whose Almighty nod
L'pborne on your expanded wings,

The rugged rock dissolving flow'd,
Come flying all abroad.

And form'd a springing well. Ye floods of fire, where'er ye flow,

Praise him, ye floods, and seas profound, With just submission humbly bow

Whose waves the spacious earth surround, To his superior pow'r,

And roll from shore to shore, Who stops the tempest on its way,

Aw'd by his voice, ye seas, subside ; Or bids the flaminy deluxe stray,

Ye foods within your charnels glide, And gives its strength to roar.

And tremble and adore. le summer's heat, and winter's cold,

Ye whales, that stir the boiling deep, By turns in long succession rollid,

Or in its dark recesses sleep, The drooping world to cheer,

Remote from human eye, Praise him who gave the sun and moon Praise him by whom ye all are fer! To lead the various seasons on,

Praise him, without whose heavení, aid And guide the circling yeur.

Ye languislı, faint, and dic.



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