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How did his wondrous skill array
Your fields in charming green;
Tall oaks for future navies grow,
While corn and vines rejoice below,
Thofe luxuries of fenfe.
The bleating flocks his pafture feeds:
That bellow through the Lindian meads,
We fee the Thames carefs the shores,
The rolling mountains of the deep
Amidst thy watery kingdoms, Lord,
And fcaly monsters, at thy word,
Thy glories blaze all nature round,
And ftrike the gazing fight,
Through skies, and feas, and folid ground,
With terror and delight.
Infinite ftrength, and equal skill,
Shrine through the worlds abroad,
But the sweet beauties of thy grace
Pity divine in Jefus face
We fee, adore, and love.
GOD's Abfolute Dominion.
ORD, when my thoughtful foul furveys Fire, air, and earth, and stars and feas, I call them all thy flaves;
Commiffion'd by my Father's will,
Poisons fhall cure, or balms fhall kill;
Vernal fums, or zephyr's breath,
But a precarious power?
The fun is all in darkness loft,
When he appoints the hour.
Lo, the Norwegians near the polar sky
He bids the vital flood in wonted circles flow.
Enquire, my foul, of ancient fame,
Look back two thousand years, and fee
Once to his court the God of Ifrael came,
I fee the furnace blaze with rage
Three Hebrews of immortal name:
They move, they walk across the burning stage
It knew the Lord of nature there.
How broad thy kingdom, how divine!
Nature, and miracle, and fate, and chance, are thine.
Hence from my heart, ye idols, flee,
To chance and nature, tales and lies:
Or frofts, or flames, to kill or fave?
In Imitation of the cxivth Pfalm.
WHEN the Eternal bows the skies,
To vifit earthly things,
With fcorn divine he turns his eyes
From towers of haughty kings;
Rides on a cloud disdainful by
Laughs at the worms that rife fo high,
He bids his awful chariot roll
With pleasure in his eyes.
Why fhould the Lord that reigns above
Disdain fo lofty kings?
Say, Lord, and why fuch looks of love
Upon fuch worthlefs things?
Mortals, be dumb; what creature dares
Difpute his awful will ?
Afk no account of his affairs,
Just like his nature is his grace,
Great God, how fearchlefs are thy ways!
THE INFINIT E.
SOME feraph, lend your heavenly tongue,
Or harp of golden string,
That I may raise a lofty song
To our Eternal King.
Thy names, how infinite they be!
Great Everlafting One!
Thy glories fhine of wondrous fize,
Thine effence is a vaft abyss,
Which angels cannot found,
An ocean of infinities
Where all our thoughts are drown'd.