His sons we are;
Sheep by him led,
Preserv'd and fed
With tender care.
O, to his portals press
In your divine resorts:
With thanks his power profess,
And praise him in his courts.
How good! how pure!
His mercies last :
His promise past
For ever sure.
As on Euphrates' shady banks we lay,
And there, O Sion, to thy ashes pay
Our funeral tears; our silent harps, unstrung,
And unregarded, on the willows hung.
Lo, they who had thy desolation wrought,
And captived Judah unto Babel brought,
Deride the tears which from our sorrows spring;
And say in scorn, A song of Sion sing.
Shall we profane our harps at their command ?
Or holy hymns sing in a foreign land?
O Solyma! thou that art now become
A heap of stones, and to thyself a tomb!
When I forget thee, my dear mother, let
My fingers their melodious skill forget:
When I a joy disjoined from thine receive,
Then may my tongue unto my palate cleave.
Remember Edom, Lord; their cruel pride,
Who in the sack of wretched Salem cried,
Down with their buildings; rase them to the ground,
Nor let one stone be on another found.
Thou Babylon, whose towers now touch the sky,
That shortly shalt as low in ruins lie;
O happy! O thrice happy they, who shall
With equal cruelty revenge our fall!
That dash thy children's brains against the stones
And without pity hear their dying groans.
DAVID'S LAMENTATION OVER SAUL AND
JONATHAN.-2 SAMUEL. I.
THY beauty, Israel, is fled,
Sunk to the dead.
How are the valiant fall'n! the slain
Thy mountains stain.
O let it not in Gath be known;
Nor in the streets of Ascalon!
Lest that sad story should excite
Their dire delight:
Lest in the torrent of our woe
Their pleasure flow:
Lest their triumphant daughters ring
Their cymbals, and curs'd Pæans sing.
You hills of Gilboa, never may
You offerings pay;
No morning dew, nor fruitful showers
Clothe you with flowers:
Saul, and his arms, there made a spoil;
As if untouch'd with sacred oil.
The bow of noble Jonathan
Great battles won:
His arrows on the mighty fed,
With slaughter red.
Saul never raised his arm in vain ;
His sword still glutted with the slain.
How lovely! O how pleasant! when
They liv'd with men!
Than eagles swifter; stronger far
Than lions are:
Whom love in life so strongly tied,
The stroke of death could not divide.
Sad Israel's daughters, weep for Saul;
Lament his fall:
Who fed you with the earth's increase,
And crown'd with peace:
With robes of Tyrian purple deck'd, And gems which sparkling light reflect.
How are thy worthies by the sword
Of war devour'd!
O Jonathan, the better part
Of my torn heart!
The savage rocks have drunk thy blood: My brother! O how kind! how good!
Thy love was great: O never more
To man man bore!
No woman, when most passionate,
Loved at that rate!
How are the mighty fall'n in fight!
They and their glory set in night!
HYMN, WRITTEN AT THE HOLY SEPULCHRE, IN JERUSALEM.
SAVIOUR of mankind, Man, Emmanuel!
Who sinless died for sin who vanquish'd hell;
The first-fruits of the grave; whose life did give
Light to our darkness; in whose death we live :-
Oh! strengthen thou my faith, convert my will,
That mine may thine obey; protect me still,
So that the latter death may not devour
My soul, seal'd with thy seal.-So, in the hour,
When thou (whose body sanctified this tomb,
Unjustly judged,) a glorious judge shall come
To judge the world with justice; by that sign
I may be known, and entertain'd for thine.
ON A REVIEW OF GOD'S MERCIES TO HIM IN HIS TRAVELS.
O THOU who all things hast of nothing made,
Whose hand the radiant firmament display'd,
With such an undiscerned swiftness hurl'd
About the steadfast centre of the world;
Against whose rapid course the restless sun,
And wand'ring flames in varied motions run,
Which heat, light, life infuse; time, night, and day
Distinguish; in our human bodies sway:
That bung'st the solid earth in fleeting air,
Vein'd with clear springs, which ambient seas
In clouds the mountains wrap their hoary heads;
Luxurious vallies cloth'd with flowery meads :
Her trees yield fruit and shade; with liberal breasts,
All creatures she (their common mother) feasts.
Then man thy image mad'st; in dignity,
In knowledge, and in beauty like to thee;
Placed in a heaven on earth: without his toil
The ever-flourishing and fruitful soil
Unpurchas'd food produced: all creatures were
His subjects, serving more for love than fear.
He knew no Lord but Thee; but when he fell
From his obedience, all at once rebel,
And in his ruin exercise their might:
Concurring elements against him fight:
Troops of unknown diseases-sorrow, age,
And death assail him with successive rage.
Hell let forth all her furies: none so great,
As man to man, ambition, pride, deceit :
Wrong arm'd with power, lust, rapine, slaughter
reign'd,
And flatter'd vice the name of virtue gain'd.
Then hills beneath the swelling waters stood,
And all the globe of earth was but one flood,
Yet could not cleanse their guilt: the following
Worse than their fathers, and their sons more base : Their God-like beauty lost-sin's wretched thrall; No spark of their divine original
Left unextinguished; all enveloped
With darkness; in their bold transgressions dead; When thou didst from the East a light display, Which rendered to the world a clearer day;
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