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A

HYMN.

HESE, as they change, ALMIGHTY FATHER, thefe,
Are but the varied GOD. The rolling year

Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleafing Spring
THY beauty walks, THY tenderness and love,
Wide flush the fields; the foftening air is balm ;
Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles;
And every sense, and every heart is joy.
Then comes THY glory in the Summer - months,
With light and heat refulgent. Then THY fun
Shoots full perfection thro' the fwelling year:
And of THY voice in dreadful thunder fpeaks;
And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve,
By brooks and groves, in hollow - whispering gales.
THY bounty shines in Autumn unconfin'd,

And spreads a common feast for all that lives.
In Winter awful THOU! with clouds and ftorms
Around THEE thrown, tempeft o'er tempeft roll'd,
Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing,
Riding fublime, THOU bidft the world adore,
And humbleft Nature with THY northern blast.

15

20

MYSTERIOUS round! what skill, what force divine,

Deep- felt, in thefe appear! a fimple train,
Yet fo delightful mix'd, with fuch kind art,
Such beauty and beneficence combin'd;
Shade, unperceiv'd, fo foftening into shade;
And all fo forming an harmonious whole;

25

That, as they still fucceed, they ravish still.
But wandering oft, with brute inconfcious gaze,
Man marks not THEE, marks not the mighty hand,
That, ever-bufy, wheels the filent spheres;
Works in the fecret deep; shoots, fteaming, thence
The fair profufion that o'erfpreads the Spring:
Flings from the fun direct the flaming day;
Feeds every creature; hurls the tempeft forth;
And, as on earth this grateful change revolves,
With transport touches all the springs of life.

NATURE, attend! join every living foul,
Beneath the spacious temple of the sky,
In adoration join; and, ardent, raife
One general fong! To HIM, ye vocal gales,

Breathe foft, whofe SPIRIT in your freshness breathes:

Oh talk of HIM in folitary glooms!

Where, o'er the rock, the scarcely waving pine
Fills the brown shade with a religious awe.

And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar,
Who shake th' aftonish'd world, lift high to heaven
Th' impetuous fong, and fay from whom you rage.
His praife, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills;
And let me catch it as I muse along.

Ye headlong torrents, rapid, and profound
Ye fofter floods, that lead the humid maze
Along the vale; and thou, majestic main,
A fecret world of wonders in thyself,

Sound His ftupendous praife; whofe greater voice
Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.

Soft roll your incenfe, herbs, and fruits, and flowers,
In mingled clouds to HIM; whofe fun exalts,
Whose breath perfumes you, and whofe pencil paints,
Ye forefts bend, ye harvests wave, to HIм;

Brea

Breathe your ftill fong into the reaper's heart,
As home he goes beneath the joyous moon.
Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep
Unconscious lies, effufe your mildest beams,
Ye conftellations, while your angels ftrike,
Amid the spangled sky, the filver lyre.
Great fource of day! beft image here below
Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide

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From world to world, the vital ocean round,
On Nature write with every beam His praise.
The thunder rolls: be hush'd the proftrate world; 70
While cloud to cloud returns the folemn hymn.*
Bleat out afresh, ye hills: ye mofly rocks,
Retain the found: the broad refponfive lowe,

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Ye valleys, raife; for the GREAT SHEPHERD reigns;
And his unfuffering kingdom yet will come.
Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless fong
Burft from the groves! and when the restless day,
Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep,
Sweeteft of birds! fweet Philomela, charm

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The liftening shades, and teach the night His praife. 80
Ye chief, for whom the whole creation fmiles,
At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all,
Crown the great hymn! in fwarming cities vast,
Affembled men, to the deep organ join
The long-refounding voice, oft breaking clear,
At folemn pauses, through the fwelling bafe;
And, as each mingling flame increases each,
In one united ardor rife to heaven.
Or if you rather chufe the rural shade,
And find a fane in every facred grove;
There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay,
The prompting feraph, and the poet's lyre,
Still fing the GOD OF SEASONS, as they roll.
For me, when I forget the darling theme,

Whe

Whether the bloffom blows, the lummer-ray
Ruffets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams;
Or Winter rifes in the blackening eaft;

Be my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more,
And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat!

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SHOULD fate command me to the fartheft verge 100
Of the green earth, to diftant barbarous climes,
Rivers unknown to fong; where first the fun
Gilds Indian mountains or his setting beam
Flames, on th' Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me :
Since GOD is ever present, ever felt,

In the void waste as in the city full;
And where Ha vital fpreads there must be joy.
When even at laft the folemn hour shall come,
And wing my myftic flight to future worlds,
I chearful will obey; there, with new powers,
Will rifing wonders fing: 1 cannot go
Where UNIVERSAL LOVE not fmiles around,
Suftaining all yon orbs and all their fons;
From Seeming Evil ftill educing Good,
And Better thence again, and Better still,
In infinite progreffion. But Flofe

Myfelf in HIM, in LIGHT INEFFABLE!

Come then, expreffive filence, muse His praise..

THE END.

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Printed for John Schweighoufer, 1769.

LE

AVERTISSEMENT.

E CABINET dont on donne le Cata= logue, eft connu de bien des Amateurs, fa réputation ne s'eft point bornée à la Province; les connoiffances & la politeffe de feu M. Villiez aménoient chez lui tous les connoiffeurs qui venoient à Nancy, & perfonne ne fortit jamais de ce Cabinet, fans être furpris de la beauté des piéces qu'il renferme.

M. Villiez, qui dès fon enfance, avoit cultivé avec les plus grands fuccès le talent fupérieur qu'il avoit pour le commerce, ne s'eft livré qu'un peu tard à celui qu'il se sentoit pour l'Hiftoire naturelle; mais auffi avec quelle rapidité ne parcourut-il pas cette carrière? Dans une douzaine d'année, il est parvenu à se faire une collection, qu'il feroit impoffible aux personnes les plus opulentes d'acquérir en cinquante, avec tous les foins imaginables.