Such is the soul that leaves this mortal land, The waves roll gentler, and the tempest dies- She floats on the broad deep with infinite delight, A PROSPECT OF THE RESURRECTION. How long shall Death, the tyrant, reign? And triumph o'er the just; Lies mingled with the dust? When shall the tedious night be gone? Our fond desires would pray him down, Let faith arise and climb the hills, And from afar descry How distant are his chariot wheels, And tell how fast they fly. Lo, I behold the scatt'ring shades, I see the Lord of glory come, The skies divide to make him room, I hear the voice, "Ye dead, arise!" And waking saints with joyful eyes They leave the dust, and on the wing In shining garments meet their King, O may my humble spirit stand How will our joy and wonder rise, When our returning King Shall bear us homeward through the skies On love's triumphant wing! DEVOTION AND THE MUSE. O WHY is piety so weak, And yet the muse so strong? That have confin'd me long? But earthly vapours damp my zeal, And mortal passion charms my soul astray. And call me high To mingle with the choirs of glory and of bliss. Awakes the song, and guides the way; There love and zeal divine and bright Trace out new regions in the world of light, And scarce the boldest muse can follow or obey. I'm in a dream, and fancy reigns, Behold Religion on her throne, In awful state descending down, And her dominions vast and bright within my spacious view. She smiles, and with a courteous hand She beckons me away; I feel mine airy powers loosen from the cumbrous clay, And with a joyful haste obey M What lengths and heights and depths unknown! Broad fields with blooming glory sown, And seas and skies and stars her own, In an unmeasur'd sphere! What heavens of joy, and light serene, A long farewell to all below, Now the swift transports of the mind Leave the fluttering muse behind. A thousand loose Pindaric plumes fly scatt'ring down the wind, Amongst the clouds I lose my breath, The rapture grows too strong: I will no more demand my tongus, Can trace the boundless flights of an unfetter'd mind, AD DOMINUM NOSTRUM ET SERVATOREM JESUM CHRISTUM. ODA. TE, grande numen, corporis incola, Vox, cithare, calami sonabunt. Aptentur auro grandisonæ fides, Christi triumphos incipe barbite, Fractosque terrores Averni, Victum Erebum, domitansque mortem. Immensa vastos sæcula circulos Volvêre, blando dum patris in sinû Toto fruebatur Jehovah Gaudia mille bibens Jesus; Donec superno vidit ab ethere Heu nimium miseros nepotes: Vidit minaces vindicis angeli Spe fremuere Erebæa monstra. Commota sacras viscera protinus "Non tota prorsus gens hominum dabit Hosti triumphos: quid patris et labor Dulcisque imago? num peribunt Funditus? O prius astra cæcis. "Mergantur undis, et redeat chaos: Aut ipse disperdam Satanæ dolos, Aut ipse disperdar, et isti Sceptra dabo moderanda dextræ, |