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Ye flocks that haunt the bumble vale,
In mutual concourse rise;
In incense to the skies.
Wake, all ye mountain tribes, and sing;
Harmonious anthems raise
And tun'd your voice to praise.
Let man, by nobler passions sway'd,
In heav'nly praise employ;
The gen’ral burst of joy.
Fall prostrate at his throne:
An image of his own.
Ye fair, by Nature form’d to move,
With youth's enliv'ning fire:
the toneful lay, Sigh his bless'd name--then soar away,
And ask an angel's lyre.
AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY.
O THOU! whose balance does the mountains weigh ; Whose will the wild tumultuous seas obey; Whose breath can tarn those wat'ry worlds to flame, That flame to tempest, and that tempest tame; Earth's meanest son, all treinbling, prostrate falls, And on the boundless of thy goodness calls.
O! give the winds all past offence to sweep, To scaiter wide, or bury in the deep. -Thy pow'r, my weakness, may I ever see, And wholly dedicate my soul 10 thée. Reign o'er my will; my passions ebb and flow At thy con mand, nor human mutive know! If anger boil, let anger be my praise, And sin the graceful indignation raise. My love be warm to succour the distress'd, And lift the burden froin the soul oppress’d. O may my understanding ever read This glorious valume which thy wisdom made! May sea and land, and earth aird hear'ı, be join’d, To bring th' eternal Author to my mine! When oceans roar, or awful thunders roll, May thoughts of thy dread vengeance shake my
soul! When earih's in bloom, or planets proudly shine, Adore, my heart, the Majesty divine!
Grant I may ever at the morning ray,
And oh! permit ihę gloom of solemn night,
Compose our souls with a less dazzling sight,
Can'st thou not shake the centre! Oh control,