If thou art near, I burn; remote, I freeze; And either distance does alike displease. Then so approach me, LORD, I thee defire, That I may feel thy WARMTH, but not thy FIRE. Fly, then, my Life! fast as the hunted deer; But neither go too far, nor stay too near! And when thou'rt gone, on reedy pipes I'll play, Sing loud thy praises, then alternate pray; And when I've wearied out the tedious night, With a new task I will myself delight. I'll carve at large on every spreading tree Our Love's original and history. What time remains I'll dedicate to fleep, But thou, my waking thoughts lov'd object keep.
See while I speak, behold, I melt away! Haste thy ungrateful flight, nor thus delay ! Go, wing'd with speed, yet thy departure mourn, And let thy haste imply a swift return.
ON ST. PAUL'S CONVERSION.
RAISE to the power whose love's unerring dart a SAUL, and rent his Jewish heart!
His darkness scatter'd and his mind inform'd, While sweet remorse his meting bosom warm'd. Such was the man! whom mercy's eye severe Struck to the earth, and stopt his mad career. Bid him-" arife"-and rising from the ground, "Go forth and preach the mercy he had found!"
PART OF PSALM XC. PARAPHRASED.
O fooner time his hafty flight began, And the warm clod was moulded into man, Than man commenc'd his God's peculiar care, Fled to his arms, and smil'd serenely there : And the fame goodness and almighty power Beam on the race, which beam'd on one before. Before the skies their ambient arch display'd, Or the foundations of the world were laid, JEHOVAH fill'd his everlasting throne, In boundless bliss unrivall'd and alone: And when the fun forgets to rule the day, And nature's rolling wheels shall cease to play, In undiminish'd pomp he shall remain, And vast eternity shall be his reign.
Lord! as our lives were kindled by thy breath, So at thy pleasure we resign to death, Quit all the gay diftinctions once we wore, Sink to our duft, and rise to earth no more.
The tedious travel of a thousand years Before thine all-enfolding view appears Short as the tranfient hours of yester-light, Or the laft watch that bolts the gates of night.
As rivers, fwoln with fierce descending rains, O'ertop their banks, and rush into the plains, Bound, foam, and thunder with tempestuous force, And spread resistless ravage in their course,
So from life's careless walks with headlong sway DEATH'S sudden torrent sweeps our lives away.
When fleep has hush'd the day's sad cares to rest, What vain illusions revel in our breast!
Yet, big with truth, and weighty import, seem The air-dress'd phantoms of the shad'wy dream : Thus through our span gay scenes of bliss beguile, But vanity's the harvest of the toil. [fkies,
As flow'rs, when morn's first splendors gild the Charm in the dew-drops, and in verdure rise, So, while our race their youthful beauties wear, Vigor and joy on every brow appear; But, ere the fun withdraws his ev'ning ray, They droop and wither in their last decay.
Urg'd by neceffity, with painful feet The broken rock, and gloomy vale we beat, Meet the dark frown of an offended God, And groan beneath the vengeance of his rod. Our fins that red with flagrant horrors rife, Stretch to the lowest hell, and scale the skies, Num'rous, as stars that strew th' etherial plain, Or fands that bound the billows of the main, Stand all unfolded to JEHOVAH'S fight, Though wrapt from mortals in impervious night. Admit it, heaven should check the stroke of fate Till life protracted reach'd its utmost date, Or to the vital glass new sands should pour, Till, seventy winters past, we fill'd the score, A weary pilgrimage we still must go,
And pant beneath a growing load of woe;
Till nature, with her toils and griefs opprest, Would figh impatient for the hour of reft.
O dread JEHOVAH, who can ever know The weight of vengeance in thine angry brow? Ev'n fear scarce images thy funds of ire, And thought flies flower than thy darted fire. Then teach me, Maker, the celestial skill To measure life, and life's demands fulfil, That death for me may take the seraph's charms, And I enraptur'd rush into his arms, Shake off this cumb'rous clod, and wing my way To a blest manfion in the realms of day.
HEN fickness shall assail my noblest part, And rush impetuous on my throbbing heart;
When pain possess'd of every nerve appears, And nought but paleness my fall'n visage wears; When every earthly wish shall fade away, And death shall chill the stiff'ning corse to clay; Do thou, GREAT GOD! in that surprizing hour, Sustain my soul by thy almighty power: Let faith, let hope, let ecstacy of love, Wing me to reach the blissful scenes above; To join the choir where each thy glory sings, And hail triumphant THEE, blest KING of kings.
I COR. CHAP. XIII. PARAPHRASED.
ID sweeter sounds adorn my flowing tongue, Than ever man pronounc'd, or angel sung:
Had I all knowledge, human and divine, That thought can reach, or science can define; And had I power to give that knowledge birth, In all the speeches of the babbling earth: Did Shadrach's zeal my glowing breast inspire, To weary tortures and rejoice in fire; Or had I faith like that which Ifrael faw, When Mofes gave them miracles, and law; Yet gracious CHARITY, indulgent guest, Were not thy power exerted in my breast, Those speeches would send up unheeded pray'r; That scorn of life would be but wild defpair: A cymbal's found were better than my voice: My faith were form: my eloquence were noise. CHARITY, decent, modeft, easy, kind, Softens the high, and rears the abject mind; Knows with just reins, and gentle hand to guide, Betwixt vile shame, and arbitrary pride, Not foon provok'd, she easily forgives: And much she suffers, as the much believes. Soft peace she brings where-ever she arrives; She builds our quiet, as she forms our lives :
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