3

4

6

7

How wondrous is thy name! Thy glories how diffus'd abroad Thro' the creation's frame!

Nature in every dress

Her humble homage pays,

And finds a thousand ways to express Thine undissembled praise.

In native white and red

The rose and lily stand,

And free from pride, their beauties spread,

To shew thy skilful hand.

The lark mounts up the sky,

With unambitious song,

And bears her Maker's praise on high
Upon her artless tongue.

My soul would rise and sing
To her Creator too,

Fain would my tongue adore my King,
And pay the worship due.

But pride that busy sin,
Spoils all that I perform;

Curs'd pride, that creeps securely in,
And swells a haughty worm.

Thy glories I abate,

Or praise thee with design; Some of the favours I forget,

Or think the merit mine.

The remnant of my days,

And to my God, my soul ascend,
In sweet perfumes of praise.
True Learning.

Partly imitated from a French Sonnet of
Mr. Poiret.

1 HAPPY the feet that shining truth has led

With her own hand to tread the path

she please,

To see her native lustre round her spread
Without a veil, without a shade,
All beauty, and all light, as in herself
she is.

2 Our senses cheat us with the pressing crowds

Of painted shapes they thrust upon the mind:

The truth they shew lies wrapp'd in sev'nfold shrouds,

Our senses cast a thousand clouds On unlighten'd souls, and leave them doubly blind.

3 I hate the dust that fierce disputers

raise,

And lose the mind in a wild maze of
thought:
[tle ways,
What empty triflings, and what sub-
To fence and guard by rule and rote!
Our God will never charge us, That
we knew them not.

4 Touch, heav'nly word, O touch these curious souls;

Since I bave heard but one soft hint

from thee, [schools From all the vain opinions of the (That pageantry of knowing fools) I feel my pow'rs releas'd, and stand divinely free.

5 'Twas this almighty word that all things made,

He grasps whole nature in his single hand;

All the eternal truths in him are laid, The ground of all things, and their head, The circle where they move, and cen

tre where they stand,

6 Without his aid I have no sure defence From troops of errors that besiege me round; [sense But he that rests his reason and his Fast here, and never wanders hence, Unmovcable he dwells upon unshaken ground.

to me;

7 Infinite truth, the life of my desires, Come from the sky, and join thyself [tires; I'm tir'd with hearing, and this reading But never tir'd of telling thee, 'Tis thy fair face alone my spirits

burn to see.

aspire,

He smiles, and sees them vainly try To lure his soul aside from her eternal rest.

3 Our headstrong lusts, like a young fiery horse, [course; Start, and flee raging in a vi'lent He tames and breaks them, manages and rides 'em,'

Checks their career, and turns and guides 'em,

And bids his reason bridle their licentious force.

4 Lord of himself, he rules his widest thoughts,

[sign'd,

And boldly acts what calmly he deWhilst he looks down and pities human faults:

Nor can he think, nor can he find A plague like reigning passions, and a subject mind.

But oh! 'tis mighty toil to reach this height,

To vanquish self is a laborious art; What manly courage to sustain the fight,

To bear the noble pain, and part With those dear charming tempters rooted in the heart!

'Tis hard to stand when all the pas

sions move,

Hard to awake the eye that passion blinds,

VUL. IX.

Now, should you fix my feet on
Cæsar's throne,

Crown me, and call the world my own, The gold that binds my brows could ne'er my soul contine.

10 I am the Lord's, and Jesus is my love; He, the dear God, shall fill my vast

desire,

My flesh below; yet I can dwell above, And nearer to my Saviour move; There all my soal shall centre, all my

pow'rs conspire.

11 Thus I with angels live; thus halfdivine

1

I sit on high, nor mind inferior joys: Fill'd with his love, I feel that God is

mine,

His glory is my great design, That everlasting project all my thoughts employs.

A Song to Creating Wisdom.
Part I.

ETERNAL Wisdom, thee we praise,
Thee the creation sings: [seas,
With thy loud name, rocks, hills, and
And heav'n's high palace rings.

2 Place me on the bright wings of day
To travel with the sun;
With what amaze shall I survey
The wonders thou hast done?

3 Thy hand how wide it spread the sky!
How glorious to behold?
Ting'd with a blue of heav'nly dye,
And starr'd with sparkling gold.

4 There thou hast bid the globes of light Their endless circles run?

There the pale planet rules the night, And day obeys the sun.

Q

Now to the earth I bend my song,
And cast my eyes abroad,
Glancing the British isles along,;

Blest isles, confess your God.

10 How did his wond'rous skill array
Your fields in charming green;
A thousand herbs his art display,
A thousand flowers between!

11 Tall oaks for future navies grow,
Fair Albion's best defence,
While corn and vines rejoice below,
Those luxuries of sense.

12. The bleating flocks his pasture feeds:
And herds of larger size,
That bellow thro' the Lindian meads,
His bounteous hand supplies.

Part IV.

13 We see the Thames caress the shores,
He guides ber silver flood:
While angry Severn swells and roars,
Yet hears her ruler God.

14 The rolling mountains of the deep
Observe his strong command;
His breath can raise the billows steep
Or sink them to the sand.

15 Amidst thy watry kingdoms, Lord,
The finny nations play,
And scaly monsters, at thy word,
Rush thro' the northern sea.

Part V.

16 Thy glories blaze all nature round, And strike the gazing sight, Thro'skies, and seas, aud solid ground, With terror and delight.

17 Infinite strength, and equal skill,
Shine thro' the worlds abroad,
Our souls with vast amazement fill,
And speak the builder God.

18 But the sweet beauties of thy grace
Our softer passions move;
Pity divine in Jesu's face
We see, adore, and lose.

2 Lo, the Norwegians near the polar sky Chafe their frozen limbs with snow; Their frozen limbs awake and glow, The vital flame touch'd with a strange supply

Rekindles, for the God of life is nigh; He bids the vital flood in wonted circles flow.

Cold steel, expos'd to northern air, Drinks the meridian fury of the midnight bear,

And burns th' unwary stranger there.

3 Enquire, my soul, of ancient fame, Look back two thousand years, and see Th' Assyrian prince transform'd a brute,

For boasting to be absolute:

Once to his court the God of Israel

came,

A King more absolute than he.
I see the furnace blaze with rage
Sevenfold: I see amidst the flame
Three Hebrews of immortal name :
They move, they walk across the
burning stage
[stood
Unhurt, and fearless, while the tyrant
A statue; Fear congeal'd his blood:
Nor did the raging element dare
Attempt their garments, or their hair;
It knew the Lord of nature there.
Nature, compell'd by a superior cause,
Now breaks her own eternal laws,
Now seems to break them, and obeys
Her sov'reign King in different ways,
Father, how bright thy glories shine!
How broad thy kingdom, how divine!
Nature, and miracle, and fate, and
chance are thine.

4 Hence from my heart, ye idols, flee, Ye sounding names of vanity! No more my lips shall sacrifice To chance and nature, tales and lies: Creatures without a God can yield me no supplies.

What is the sun, or what the shade, Or frosts, or flames, to kill or save? His favour is my life, his lips pronounce me dead:

And as his awful dictates bid,

Earth is my mother, or my grave.

Condescending Grace.

In Imitation of the cxivth Psalm.

1 WHEN the Eternal bows the skies,
To visit earthly things,
With scorn divine he turns his eyes
From towers of haughty kings;

2 Rides on a cloud disdainful by
A Sultan, or a Czar,

Laughs at the worms that rise so high,
Or frowns 'em from afar :

3 He bids his awful chariot roll
Far downward from the skies,
To visit every humble soul,

With pleasure in his eyes.

4 Why should the Lord that reigns above Disdain so lofty kings?

Say, Lord, and why such looks of love Upon such worthless things?

5 Mortals, be dumb; what creature dares Dispute his awful will;

Ask no account of his affairs,

But tremble, and be still.

Just like his nature is his grace,

All sov'reign, and all free; [ways! Great God, how searchless are thy How deep thy judgments be!

The Infinite.

1 SOME seraph, lend your heav'nly

tongue,

Or harp of golden string,

That I may raise a lofty song
To our eternal King.

2 Thy names, how infinite they be !
Great Everlasting One!
Boundless thy might and majesty,
And unconfin'd thy throne.

Thy glories shine of wond'rous size,
And wond'rous large thy grace:
Immortal day breaks from thine eyes,
And Gabriel veils his face.

4 Thine essence is a vast abyss,
Which angels cannot sound;
An ocean of infinities,

Where all our thoughts are drown'd.

The myst'ries of creation lie

Beneath enlighten'd minds;
Thoughts can ascend above the sky,
And fly before the winds.

Reason may grasp the massy hills,
And stretch from pole to pole,
But half thy name our spirit fills,
And overloads our soul.

7 In vain our haughty reason swells,

For nothing's found in Thee
But boundless inconceivables,
And vast eternity.

4

5

6

7

8

9

This impious heart of mine
Could once defy the Lord,

Could rush with violence on to sin,
In presence of thy sword.

How often have I stood

A rebel to the skies,

The calls, the tenders of a God,

And mercy's loudest cries!

He offers all Iris grace,

And all his heav'n to me;

Offers! but 'tis to senseless brass,

That cannot feel nor see.

Jesus the Saviour stands

To court me from above,

And looks and spreads his wounded hands,

And shews the prints of love.

But I, a stupid fool,

How long have I withstood

The blessings purchas'd with his soul,

And paid for all in blood?

The heav'nly Dove came down,
And tender'd me his wings

To mount me upward to a crown,
And bright immortal things.

10 Lord, I'm asham'd to say

That I refus'd thy Dove,
And sent thy Spirit griev'd away,
To his own realms of love.

Not all thine heav'nly charms,

Nor terrors of thy hand,

Could force me to lay down my arms, And bow to thy command.

12 Lord, 'tis against thy face

My sins like arrows rise,

And yet, and yet, O matchless grace! Thy thunder silent lies.

13 O shall I never feel

The meltings of thy love?
Am I of such bell-harden'd steel
That mercy cannot move?

14 Now for one pow'rful glance,

Dear Saviour, from thy face! This rebel heart no more withstands, But sinks beneath thy grace.

15 O'ercome by dying love I fall, Here at thy cross I lie;