To whom his gracious promises extend,
In whom they centre, and in whom shall end,
Which (bleft on that foundation fure who build)
Shall with eternal justice be fulfill'd :
Ye fons of life, to whofe glad hope is given
The bright reverfion of approaching heaven,
With grateful hearts his glorious praise recite,
Whofe love from darkness call'd you out to light;
So let your piety reflective fhine,
As men may thence confefs his truth divine!
And when this mortal veil, as foon it muft,
Shalf drop, returning to its native duft;
The work of life, with approbation done,
Receive from God your bright immortal crown!
IX. GLORY.
But, oh adventurous mufe, restrain thy flight, Dare not the blaze of uncreated light! His praife proclaim, ye monsters of the deep, Who in the vaft abyfs your revels keep! Before whofe glorious throne, with dread surprize, Th' adoring seraph veils his dazzled eyes; Whose pure effulgence, radiant to excess, No colours can describe, or words express! All the fair beauties, all the lucid ftores, Which o'er thy works thine hand refplendent pours; Feeble thy brighter glories to difplay, Pale as the moon before the folar ray!
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See on his throne the Hebrew monarch plac'd,
In all the pomp of the luxuriant east!
While mingling gems a borrow'd day unfold,
And the rich purple waves, emboss'd with gold;
Yet mark this scene of painted grandeur yield
To the fair lily that adorns the field!
Obscur'd, behold that fainter lily lies,
By the rich bird's * inimitable dyes;
Yet these furvey, confounded and undonë
By the fuperior luftre of the fun;
That fun himfelf withdraws his leffen'd beam
From thee, the glorious author of his frame!
Transcendent power! fole arbiter of fate!
How great thy glory! and thy bliss how great !
To view from thine exalted throne above,
(Eternal fource of light, and life, and love')
Unnumber'd creatures draw their smiling birth,
To bless the heavens, or beautify the earth;
While fyftems roll, obedient to thy view,
And worlds rejoice-which Newton never knew!
Then raise the fong, the general anthem raife,
And fwell the concert of eternal praise !
Affift, ye orbs that form this boundless whole,
Which in the womb of space unnumber'd roll;
Ye planets, who compose our leffer scheme,
And bend, concertive, round the folar frame;
Thou eye of nature, whofe extenfive ray
With endless charms adorns the face of day,
The Bird of Paradife, feen in the Spice Iflands.
Confenting raise th' harmonious joyful found,
And bear his praises thro' the vaft profound:
His praife, ye winds, that fan the chearful air,
Swift as ye pass along your pinions bear!
His praise let ocean thro' her realms display,
Far as her circling billows can convey!
His praife, ye mifty vapours, wide diffuse,
In rains defcending, or in milder dews!
His praises whisper, ye majestic trees,
As your tops ruftle to the vocal breeze!
His praise around, ye flowery tribes exhale,
Far as your sweets embalm the spicy gale!
His praise, ye dimpled streams, to earth reveal,
As pleas'd ye murmur thro' the flowery vale!
His praife, ye feather'd choirs, distinguish'd fing,
As to your notes the tuneful forefts ring!
Or ye, fair natives of our earthly scene,
Who range the wilds, or haunt the pasture green!
Nor thou, vain lord of earth, with careless ear,
The univerfal hymn of worship hear!
But ardent, in the facred chorus join,
Thy foul tranfported with the task divine I
While by his works th' Almighty is confefs'd,
Supremely glorious, and fupremely bless'd!
Great Lord of life! from whom this humble frame
Derives the power to fing thy holy name,
Forgive the lowly mufe, whofe artless lay
Has dar'd thy facred attributes furvey!
Delighted oft thro' nature's beauteous field
Has The ador'd thy wisdom bright reveal'd;
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Oft have her wifhes aim'd the fecret fong,
But awful reverence still with-held her tongue:
Yet as thy bounty lent the reasoning beam,
As feels my conscious breast thy vital flame;
So, bleft Creator, let thy servant pay
His mite of gratitude this feeble way,
'Thy goodness own, thy providence adore!
He yields thee only-what was thine before..
EPIGRAM ON ISAIAH LIII. ii.
HE HATH NO FORM NOR COMELINESS; AND WHEN WE SHALL SEE HIM, THERE IS NO BEAUTY THAT WE SHOULD DESIRE HIM.
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O forms of beauty in that more than MAN!
The END and AUTHOR of redemption's plan :
No outward charms, no earthly regal sway,
To tempt the noble or allure the gay:
His marred vifage no foft bofom fires,
Nor with fond love the yielding heart inspires.
But wifer fouls, on that deep furrow'd brow,
See fhining truth in livelieft colours glow;
See all they want, and all they wish'd is there,
And own him LOVELY-altogether FAIR!
ON THE LOVE OF CHRIST.
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IDST various mercies that exalted fhine, And loudly fpeak their origin divine, Is there one law that animates the whole, Warms the full heart, and pierces to the foul? Which every fear can from the breast remove, And flash conviction on the doubting love? Love, powerful law, can every joy impart, Pierce to the foul, and warm the raptur'd heart.
O, while my fong pursues this love of thine, Make it, my SAVIOUR, like the theme, divine! While thus I bow the heart, and bend the knee, And look with ardent love, my God, to thee, Bid unbelief for fake this doubting breast, And reign triumphant my indulgent guest. Ere the great great Fiat the world its birth, gave Smooth'd the clear fky, or form'd the rolling earth, Love is, and fhall be (wonder and adore!) When worlds fhall fall, and time fhall be no more. This bright perfection of th' eternal mind, Strikes thro' all nature, nor by aught confin'd. Bright as the fun its generous course it runs, And finds the meaneft of earth's humble fons.
Here, how redemption ftrikes the mental fight In a full blaze, and majesty of light!
I see the scene!-th' expiring God I fee!
Behold, he dies!-and oh! he dies for me!-
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