All hail the SON- -now view the promis'd feed For whom the lamb, prophetic, us'd to bleed! See from the ALTAR, lowing heifers turn, And offer'd incenfe ceafe at length to burn. The wounded victim, gasping, pants for breath, And half recovered ftruggles hard with death! The reeking blood, reluctant life bestows, Now feels reftraint and ftagnates as it flows. No more the RITES Levitic priests began, When CHRIST, their substance, laid the mystic plan; Now view the types, the darksome shadows gone †, And brighter day, hail DAVID'S ROYAL SON!

In humble guise behold the babe appear! Nor crowns, nor fceptres, hail him welcome here. But lo! the birth-ungrateful men deride, Because the fubject mocks their native pride! Not fo, where faith the humble fpirit guides, Where virtue triumphs, and where love prefides; Nor thus the mufe-nor thus let mortals fing, But hail! moft welcome, Zion's INFANT KING.

importance; a fubject which ought to be well underflood, and, because clearly revealed, implicitly believed by every person who makes the BIBLE a ftandard of faith and practice.

+ As the facrifices under the ceremonial difpenfation had their full accomplishment in CHRIST; it is hoped that this fhort defcription, though not accurate as to time, will be excufed. During his life, the Jewish ritual, which had long been in a declining state, was ftill obferved: probably the abolition of thofe rites and ceremonies was fignified at his death, by the rending of the veil between the holy place and the most holies.

Brief, thou my foul, his life progressive scan,
From child to youth-from youth to riper man,
In each, in both, furrounding forrows 'tend,
And with life's bleffings, worft afflictions blend!
How hard to bear! Oh! more than human fate,
Where pain on want, where fhame on forrows wait;
Where each alternate bears triumphant fway,
And wounds, inceffant, the long-tortur'd prey:
But this his lot, who brought falvation near,
Whom angels worship, and whom faints revere!
And this his honor this let all approve→→
Because the trials that atteft his love!

See blameless poverty-fee want prefides!
Now foes loud threaten, now base man dèrides-
Now friends forfake, now fhun the toilfome way,
And trait'rous JUDAS does at length betray!
O! foul ingratitude-O! treach'rous part!
O! foul offence-but yet much fouler heart-
Alas! 'tis done the waiting ruffians ftand!
They feize—they grapple-with rapacious hand!
With favage rage around their PURCHASE cling,
And drag in triumph, their defpifed king!
Before the PRIEST, for fanctity renown'd,
Behold the SAVIOUR with strong fetters bound!
There falfe accufers, there vile tongues degrade,
And words, blafphemous, to his charge are laid.
Now at the bar, where juftice fhould prefide,
The JUDGE of HEAVEN and EARTH, himself is tried!
See where he stands !the fcoff of blafting rage,
Nor aught but death can their loud cries affuage:

Nor grief, nor pity, impious hands restrain,
And innocence itself, but pleads in vain ! [torn,
-Arraign'd-condemn'd-from judgment fee him

And by the rabble, in bafe triumph borne;
See from his fhoulders, rent the linen veft,
And in a robe- -th' infulted SAVIOUR dreft.
The blushing robe, that mocks his kingly fame,
Tho' most defcriptive of their want of shame!
See round his temples wreath'd the pointed thorn-
(Sad tort'ring proof of their malicious fcorn)
See from beneath that rude-that piercing crown,
In various parts the blood faft trickle down!
From ftreet to ftreet, behold the victim bleed!
And distant thousands wing'd with rapid speed ;
Crouds, meeting crouds, in mingled tumult throng,
To view the fuff'rer dragg'd with cords along.
With rage they prefs-infult-deride-rejoice,
And fcoff the SAVIOUR with united voice.

TO CALVARY next direct thy mournful view,
Behold the CROSS- -behold thy SAVIOUR too!
See wide extended on th' accurfed tree,
Th' atoning facrifice that bleeds for thee!
See cruel death, his worft, his latest FIEND,
In regal state, th' affecting scene attend!
In all the ghaftly forms of terror stand,
Inflicting torments with relentless hand:
Forfook by all, but that grim tyrant death,
Th' EXPIRING SAVIOUR gafps and tugs for breath.
See ling'ring conflicts rend his tortur'd foul,

And feeling nature rock from pole to pole.

See

See all

but MAN, for whom the SAVIOUR came,
Express their forrow, or perhaps their shame!
Or, fee the power of that expiring JEW,
Both DAVID's root, and DAVID's offspring too-
The troubled earth heaves with convulfive breath,
And quakes, prophetic, of its Maker's death!
Graves, once tenacious, now forc'd open wide,
Expose the corpfe, which they were meant to hide.
Wide yawning chafms-shock the starting foul !
And rending rocks from their firm bafis roll.
Yon western fun beholds the mournful fight,
Holds back his luftre, and withdraws his light!
Struck with the crime-in fable guife retires,
Nor dares to fhine while NATURE'S GOD EXPIRES.

Say, thou my foul, whence this unbounded love,
Why left the SAVIOUR yon bright realms above!
Why leave the bofom, where he once reclin'd,
Where glory triumph'd, where perfection fhin'd!
Where pureft pleasures, confcious virtue charms,
And love, feraphic, each chafte bosom warms.
With joy I fee-EXPERIENCE points to man,
The fav'rite subject of this mystic plan !
For him, the FATHER gave his ONLY SON ‡,
For him, the SAVIOUR cry'd-" thy will be done,”

For

Not by OFFICE, nor in an improper and figurative fenfe, as fome without any fcripture authority confidently affirm, but a son by NAThe ingenious DR. ERSKINE obferves, "he is the SON OF GOD in a fenfe incommunicable to any creature, and which has not, yea, cannot have any thing parallel to it in univerfal nature." This

TURE.

1

TO A LADY WITH A WITHERED ROSE.

BY THOMAS DRUMMOND, L. L. D.

YLVIA, to thee this wither'd rose I send,

SYLVIA,

Receive the dumb inftructor as a friend;
And if the moral tale you juftly mark,

'Twill preach as well as TILLOTSON OF CLARKE.
This lifelefs, fhrivel'd, now neglected thing,
Was lately feen the glory of the spring;
Exulted in the pride of youthful bloom,
Grateful to fight, luxuriant with perfume:
Its bofom pregnant with etherial dew,
Swell'd to the fun, and blufh'd as bright as you :
The morn the full-blown ruddy vigor spy'd,
At eve it droop'd its languid head and dy'd.
Such, and fo frail the tints of beauty's power,
The gaudy drefs and bloffom of an hour.
Expos'd each minute to the nipping storm,
To baneful blafts, that every grace deform:
Disease ftill hov'ring round on pallid wing,
With all her ugly train prepar'd to fting:
And thefe efcap 'd, with flow, but fure decay,
Old haggard time cach colour wipes away;
The lily, and the rofe's hue decline,
Shrunk to the texture of a fhrivel'd skin.

Sylvia, too grave perhaps thefe truths appear,

My fong too moral, and the theme fevere;

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