TO THE RISING SUN.

From the red wave rising bright,

Lift on high thy golden head;

O’er the misty mountains, spread Thy smiling rays of orient light! See the golden god appear ; Flies the fiend of darkness drear; Flies, and in her gloomy train, Sable Grief, and Care, and Pain! See the golden god advance! On Taurus' heights his coursers prance : With him haste the vernal hours, Breathing sweets, and drooping flowers. Laughing Summer at his side, Waves her locks in rosy pride ; And Autumn bland with aspect kind, Bears his golden sheaf behind. O haste, and spread the purple day O’er all the wide ethereal way ; Nature mourns at thy delay. God of glory, haste away! From the red wave rising bright,

Lift on high thy golden head ;

O’er the misty mountains, spread Thy smiling rays of orient light!

FAREWELL the fields of Irwan's vale,

My infant years where Fancy led; And sooth'd me with the western gale,

Her wild dreams waving round my head, While the blithe blackbird told his tale : Farewell the fields of Irwan's vale !

The primrose on the valley's side,

The green thyme on the mountain's head, The wanton rose, the daisy pied,

The wilding's blossom blushing red; No longer I their sweets inhale : Farewell the fields of Irwan's vale!

How oft, within yon vacant shade,

Has evening clos'd my careless eye: How oft, along those banks, I've stray'd,

And watch'd the wave that wander'd by. Full long their loss shall I bewail :. Farewell the fields of Irwan's vale!

Yet still, within yon vacant grove,

To mark the close of parting day ;
Along yon flowery banks to rove,

And watch the wave that winds away ;
Fair fancy sure shall never fail,
Though far from these, and Irwan's vale!

TO

THE ETERNAL PROVIDENCE.

Life of the world, Immortal Mind!
Father of all the human kind !
Whose boundless eye that knows no rest,
Intent on Nature's ample breast;
Explores the space of earth and skies,
And sees eternal incense rise ;
To thee my humble voice I raise ;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

Though thou this transient being gave,
That shortly sinks into the grave;
Yet 'twas thy goodness, still to give
A being that can think and live;
In all thy works thy wisdom see,
And stretch its towering mind to thee!
To thee my humble voice I raise ;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

And still this poor contracted span,
This life, that bears the name of Man;
From thee derives its vital ray,
Eternal Source of life and day!
Thy bounty still the sunshine pours,
That gilds its morn and evening hours :
To thee my humble voice I raise ;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

Through Error's make, through Folly's night, The lamp of Reason lends me light.

When stern affliction waves her rod,
My heart confides in thee, my God!
When Nature shrinks, oppress’d with woes,
E’en then she finds in thee repose :
To thee my humble voice I raise :
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

Affliction flies, and Hope returns ;
Her lamp with brighter splendour burns;
Gay Love, with all his smiling train,
And Peace and Joy are here again.
These, these I know, 'twas thine to give ;
I trusted ; and, behold, I live!
To thee my humble voice I raise ;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

O may I still thy favour prove !
Still grant me gratitude and love :
Let truth and virtue guide my heart ;
Nor peace, nor hope, nor joy depart:
But yet, whate'er my life may be,
My heart shall still repose on thee!
To thee my humble voice I raise !
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

SELECT POEMS

OF

CHRISTOPHER SMART:

WITII

A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.