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Rife, crown'd with light, imperial Salem rife!
THOUGHTS ON PSALM cxix. xxxvii.
O TURN AWAY MINE EYES, LEST THEY BEHOLD VANITY,
N my high capitol two centries dwell,
Keep conftant watch, to guard the citadel:
Ev'n you, my EYES, are these mysterious stars,
Thus, while JESSIDES view'd the bathing dame,
Thus,treach'rous centries, you your charge perform,
For this the charge of my chief castle gain?
REFLECTIONS ON PSALM
I WILL SING PRAISES UNTO MY GOD, WHILE HAVE ANY BEING.
HOULD love divine, at death, my breaft infpire, And kindle there a fpark of facred fire; This feeble voice fhall fongs of tribute raise, And teach furviving mortals how to praise. With fuppliant hand, I'll court the poet's aid, And chant the happy numbers genius made; Soft foothing strains shall all my powers employ, And turn my intervals of pain to joy. But if my ftamm'ring tongue forget its theme, And fault'ring words, confus'd, should intervene; E'en then, furrounding friends shall thankful see His boundless goodness manifeft in me; A WILL RESIGN'D shall speak his love the fame, And filent eloquence his praise proclaim. In patient hope, my foul fhall paffive lay, Nor wish to leave its now incumber'd clay : And when infatiate death approaches near, This tim'rous heart fhall then forget to fear; Shall flap the wing, to find its passage free, And foar aloft to dwell, great God, with thee!
THOUGHTS ON PSALM LXXIII. XXIV,
WHOM HAVE I IN HEAVEN BUT THEE? AND THERE IS NONE
UPON EARTH THAT I DESIRE IN COMPARISON OF THEE.
HAT fhall I seek, great God, in heaven above, Or earth, or fea, whereon to fix my love? Tho' I fhould ransack heaven, and earth, and sea, Their worth is nothing if depriv'd of thee.
I know what mighty joys in heaven abound, What treasures in the earth and sea are found; Yet without thee, my love! t' enrich their ftore, Their boafted glories are but mean and poor. O heaven! O earth! O vaft capacious main ! Three famous realms where wealth and plenty reign! Tho' in one heap your triple pleasures lay, They were no pleasures, were my Lord away. My thoughts, I own, have often rang'd the deep, Search'd earth and heaven, and in no bounds would But when they wander'd the creation round, [keep; No equal object in the whole they found. Sometimes I thought to rip the pregnant earth, And give its rich and long-born burthen birth; Gold, filver, brafs, feeds of the fhining vein, And each bright product of the fertile mine: But what advantage? tho' o'ercharg'd with gold, My bursting coffers can't their burthen hold;