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Nor less the mystic characters I see

y Of milky light, what soft o'crflowing urn. Wrought in cach flow'r, inscrib’d on ev'ry tree : Are all these lainpsso fill'd i these friendly lamps, In ev'ry leaf that treinbles to the breeze

For ever strcaning o'er the azure deep I hear the voice of God among the trees; To point our patli and light us to our home. With thee in shady solitudes I walk

How soft they slide along their lucid spheres ! With thee in busy crowded cities talk;

And, silent as the foot of time, fulfil In ev'ry creature own thy forming pow'r, Their destin'd courses: Naturc's self is hush'd, In each event thy providence adore.

And, but a scatter'd leat which rustles thro' Thy hopes shall animate my drooping soul, The thick-wore foliage, not a sound is heard Thy precepts guide me, and thy fear control. To break the midnight air ; tho' the rais'd car, Thus shall I rest unmov'd by all alarms, Intensely list'ning, drinks in ev'ry breath. Secure within the temple of thine arıns, How deep the silence, yet how loud the praise ! From anxions cares, from gloomy terrors free, But are they silent all? or is there not And feel myself omnipotent in the

A tonguc in ev'ry star that talks with man, Then, when the last, theclosing hourdraws nigh, And woos him to be wise? nor woos in vain : And earth recedes before my swimming eye; This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, When trembling on the doubtful edge of fate And wisslom mounts her zenith with the stars. I stand, and stretch my view to either state; At this still hour the self-collected soul Teach me to quit this transitory scene

Turns inward and beholds a stranger thicre With decent triuinph and a look serene; Of high descent, and more than mortal rank; Teach me to fix my ardent hopes on high, An enbrio God; a spark of fire divine, Aul, having liv’d to thee, in thee to die. Which must burn on for ages, when the sun

|(Fair transitory creature of a day) i $ 54. A Summer Evening's Meditation. Has clos'd his golden eye, and wrapt in shades,

Mrs. Barbauld. Forgets his wonted jouincy thro' the east. One sun by day, by night ten thcusand shine. 1 Ye citadels of light, and scats of Gods !

YOUNG. Perhaps iny future home, from whence the soul, Tis past! the sultry tyrant of the south Revolving periods past, may oft look back, llás spent his short-lived rage: inore grateful With recollected tenderness, on all hours

The various busy scenes she left below, Mere silent ou : the skies no more repel Its decp-laid projects and its strange events, The dazzled sight; but, with mild maiden beans As on some fond and voting tole ihat sooth'd Of tenuper'd light, invite the cherishid cye Her infant hours - Obcit lawful now To wander o'er their sphere; where hung aloft |To tread the hallow'd circle of your courts, Dian's bright crescent, like a silver bow

And with mute wonder and delighted awe New strung in heaven, lifts high its beamy horns, Approach your burning confines !-----Seis'd in Inpatient for the night, and seems to pusli Ton fancy's wild and roving wing I sail (thought, Her brother down the sky. Fair Venus shines, From the green borders of the peopled earth, Evin in the eye of day; with sweetest beam And the pale moon, lier duteous fair attendant! Fruitious shines, and shakes a trembling food From solitary Mars; from the vast orb Of soften'd radiance from her dewy locks. Of Jupiter, whose huge gigantic bulk The badows spread apace ; while meckend Eve, Dances in ether like the lightest leaf; Her cheek yet warm with blushes, slow retires To the dim verge, the suburbs of the system, Thro' the Hesperian garrlens of the west, Where cheerless Saturn 'midst his wat’ry moons, And shuts the gates of day. "Tis now the hour Girt with a lucid zone, in glooniy pomp, When Comtemplation, from her sunless haunts, Sits like an esild monarch: fearless thence The cool damp grotto, or the lonely slepih. I launch into the trackless sleeps of space, Of unpierc'd woods, were wrapt in silent shade, Where, burning round, ten thousandsunsappear, She mus'd away the gaudy hours of noon, Of elder bearn; which ask no leave to shine And fed on thoughts unripenn'd by the sun, of our terrestrial star, nor borrow light Mores forward ; and with radiant finger points From the proud resent of our scanty day; Toyon blue concave swell'd by breath divine, Sons of the morning, first-born of creation, Where, one by one, the living eyes of heaven and only less than him who marks their track, Awake, quick kindling o'er the face of æther And guides their very whecs. Here must I stop, One boundless blaze; ten thousand trembling Or is there aught bevond? What hand unscen fires,

Impels me onward thro' the glowing orbs Aarl dancing lustres, where the unsteady eye, of habitable nature, far rensote, Restles and dazzled, wanders unconfin'd |To the dread confines of eternal night, O'er all this field of glories : spacious field, | To solitudes of vast unpeopled space, And worthy of the master : he whose hand, |The desarts of crcation, wicie and wild, With hieroglyphics elder than the Nile, Where embryo systems and unkindled suns Inscrili'd the mystic tablet; bung on high Sleep in the womb of chaos ? Fancy droops, To public grace'; and said, Adore, man,

Lluc thought astonish'd stops her bold career. The finger of thy God! From what pure wells But, olithou mighty Mind!'whose pow'rfulword


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Said, Thus let all things be, and thus they were, But thou O Nymph, retir'd and cop!
Where shall I seek thy presence? how unblam'd in what brown hamlet dost thou joy
Invoke thy dread perfection ?-

To tell thy tender tale?
Have the broad eyelids of the morn beheld thee: The lowliest children of the ground,
Or does the beainy shoulder of Orion

Noss-rose and violet blossom round,
Support thy throne! O look with pity down And lily of the vale.
Ou erring, guilty man! not in thy names

To say what soft propitious hour
Of terror clad; not with those thunders arm'd

I best inay choose to hail thy pow'r, That conscious Sinai felt, when fear appallid

And court thy gentle sway? The scatter'd tribes! Thou hast a gentler voice

orce When Autumn, friendly to the Muse, That whispers comfort to the swelling heart,

Shall thy own modest lints diffuse,
Abash'l, yet longing to behold her Maker.

And shed thy milder day :
But now my soul, unus'd to stretch her pow'rs
In flights so dariny, drops her weary wing,

When Eve, her dewy star beneath,
And seeks again the known accustom'd spot, Thy balmy spirit loves to breathe,
Drest up with sun, and shade, and lawns, and
A inansion fair and spacious forits guest, streams; If such av hour was e'er thy choice,
And full replete with wonders. Let me here, Oft let me hear thy soothing voice
Content and grateful, wait the appointed tine, Low whisp'ring thro' the sbade.
And ripen for the shies; the hour will come
When all these splcndors bursting on my sight
Shall stand unveil'd, and to my ravish'd sense
Unlock the glories of the world unknown.

$ 56. To Wisdom. Mrs. Barbauld.

Dona præsentis rape laetus hora, ac 8 55. Hymn to Content. Mrs. Barbauld.

Linque severa.

HORAT. natura beatos Omnibus esse decit, si quis cognoverit uti. Clavo. O wisdom! if thy soft control O THOU, the Nymplr with placid eye!

Can sooth the sickness of the soul, O seldom found, yel ever nigh!

Can bid the warring passions cease, Reccive my iemp'rate row.

And breathe the calın of tender peace; Not all the storins that shake the pole,

Wisdoin! I bless thy gentle sway, Can e'er disturb thy halcvon soul,

And ever, ever will obey. And smooth unalter'd brow,

But if thou com'st with frown austere () come, in siinple rest array'd,

To nurse the brood of care and fear; With all thy sober cheer display'd,

To bid our sweetest passions die, To bless my longing sight;

And leave us in their room a sigh? Thy mien compos'd, thy even pace,

Or if thine aspect stern have pow'r Thy ineck regard, thy matron grace,

To wither each poor transient flow's And chaste subdu'd delight.

That cheers this pilgrimage of woe, No more hy varying passions be

And dry the springs whence hope should flow; O gently guide my pilgrim fect

Wisdoin, thine empire 1 disclaim, To find thy hermit cell;

Thou empty boast of pompous name! Where in some pure and equal sky

In gloomy shade of cloisters dwell,
Beneath thy soft indulgent cye

But never haunt my cheerful.cell.
The modest virtues dweil. .

Hail to pleasure's frolic train!
Simplicity in Attic vest,

Hail to fancy's golien reign!

Festive mirth and laughter wild,
And Innocence with candid breast,
And clear undaunted eye;

Free and sportful as the child !

Hope with eager sparkling cyes, And Hope, who points to distant years,

And easy faith and fond surprise! Fair op'ning thro' this vale of tcars

Let these, in fairy colors drest, A vista to the sky.

For ever share my carcless breast :
There Ilcalth, thro' whosc calın bosom glide Then, tho' wise I may not be,
The temp'rate joys in even tide,

(The wise themselves shall envy me.
That rarely ebb or flow;
And patience there, thy sister meek,
Presents her mild unvarying check
To meet the offer'd blow.

$ 57. Despondency. An Ode. Burns. ller influence taught the Phyrgian sage TOPPress'd wiih grief, oppress'd with care, A tyrant's master's wanton rage

A burden more than I can bear, With settled smiles to meet ;

I sit me down and sigh: Jnur'd to toil and bitter bread,

O life! thou art a galling load, He bow'd his meek submitted head,

| A long a rough, a weary road, And kiss'd thy sainted feet.

To wretches such as I !

Dim Dim backward as I cast my view, .

1 § 58. The Frailty und Tully of Man. Prior. Wiat sick'ning scenes appear? That sorrow's yet may pierce me through, Great Heav'n! bow frail thy creature Man Tuo justly I may fear!

is made! Sull caring, despairing

How by himself insensibly betray'd! Must be juv bitter doom ;

In our own strength uniappily secure, -
My woes here shall close ne'er,

Too little cautious of the adverse pow'r;
But with the closing tumb!

And, by ibe blast of self-opinion moy'd,
Happy! ye sons of busy life,

We wish to charm, and seek to be belov'd. . Who, equal to the busiling strife,

On pleasure's flow'ry brink we idly stray, Socher view regard !

Masters as yet of vur returning way: Evd when the wished end's deniert,

Seeing yo danger, we disarnı our mind, Yer hile the busy means are plied,

And give our conduct to the waves and windi They bring their own reward:

Then in the fiow'rv nicad, or verdant sha de, Whilst I, a hope-ab.indon'd wight,

To wanton dallioke verligently laid, Unfitted with an aim,

Weweave the chapit, and we crown the bowl, Meet ev'ry sad returning night

And smiling see the nearer waters roll: And joyless inom tlie same.

Till the strong gusts of raging jassion rise, You, bustling and justling

Til the dire tempest mingles earth and skies; Forget each grict and paina;

And, swift into ihe boundless ocean borne, l, less yet restless

Our foolislı confilence too late we mourn: Find ev'ry prospect vain.

Round our devoted heads the billows beat; llow blest the Solitary's lot,

And from our troubled view the lessen'd lauds Ilo all-forgetting, all-forgot,

retreat. Within this humble cell, The carera will with tangling roots,

$59. A Paraphrase on the latter Part of the Sixth Sito'er his newly-rather d fruits,

Chaplerof St. Matthew. Thomson. Beside luis crystal well!

When my breast labors with oppressive care, Or haply to his ev'ning thought,

And o'er my cheek descends the falling tear; By untrequented stream,

While all my warring passions are at strife, The wars of'nun are distant brouglıt,

Oh let me listen to the words of life! A faiet-colletid dream:

Raptures deep felt Iris doctrine did impart, While praising, and raising

And thus he rais'd from earch the drooping heart: His ihoughts to Icav'on high,

Think not, when all your scanty stores afford As wand'ring, meand'ring,

Is spread at once upon the sparing board; . lle views the solenio sky.

Think not, when worn thehomely robe appears, Than 1, no lonely Hernit plac'd

\Fhile on the roof the howling tempest bears; Where never human footstep trac'd,

What farther stall this feeble life sustain, Les ft to play the part,

And whatshallclothe these shiv'ring limbs again. The lucky moment to improve,

Sav, does not life its nourishment exceed? And just to stop and just to inove,

And the fair body its investing weed ? With self-respecting art :

Behold! and look away your low despair But ah! those picasures, loves, and joys, See the light tenants of the barren air : Which I too keenly taste,

To them nor stores nor granaries belong, The Solitary can despise,

Nought but the woodland and the pleasing song; Can want, and yet be blest!

Yet your kind beav'nly Father bends his eye . He needs not, he heels not,

JOn the least wing that fits along the sky.' Or human love or hate!

To him they sing when spring renews the plain, Whilst I here, must cry here,

To lvim they cry in winter's pinching reign; At perfidy ingrate!

Nor is their music or their plaint in vain; OL! enviable early days,

lile hears the gay and the distressful call, Il ben dancing thoughtless Pleasure's maze, And with unsparing bounty hils thein all To Care, to Guilt unknown!

Observe the rising lily's snowy grace, How ill exchang'd for riper tines,

Observe the various veretable race; To feel the follies or the crimes

They neither toil nor spiu, but careless grow, Oí others, or my own!

Yet see how warm they blush! how bright they Se tiny elves, that guiltless sport

glow! Liké linnels in the bush.

What regıl vestiments can with them comparc? Ye little know the ills ye court,

What king so shining, or what qucen so fair? When inanhood is your wish! The losses, the crosses,

If ceascless thus the fowls of heav'n he feeds,

If o'er the fields such lucid robes he spreads,
That active man engage;
The fears all, the tears all,

Will he not care for you, ye faithless, say?
Of dim declining aye!

Is he unwise? or are ye less than they?
E 4

$ 60

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$ 60. The Sluggurd. Watts.

1 But I have less sense than a poor creeping

If I take not due care for the iliings I shall 1 'Tis the voice of a sluggard -- I heard him! Nor provide against dangers in time: coinplain,

again." When death or old age shall stare in my fa You have wak'd me too soon, I must slumber What a wretch shall I be in the end of myd As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed shead.

If I trifle away all their prime! Turns his sides and his shoulders, and his heavy « A little more sleepand a little more slumber - Now, now, while my strength and my youth Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours

in bloom,


Let me think what will serve me when sickn without number; And when he gets up, he sits foluling bis hands,

And pray that my sins be forgiven:
Let me read in good books, and believe and ole

| That, when death turns me out of this cotta
I pass'd by his garden and saw the wild brier, I may dwell in a palace in hcaren. (of cla
Thethorn and theihistle growbroaderandhiglier;
The clothes that hangon him are turning to rags;
Andhis moneystillwastes, till he starresorhe begs.

$ 63. A Summer Evening, Watts. I made him a visit, still hoping to find He had took better care for improving his mind; How fine has the day been, how bright was He told me his dreams, talk'dofeating & drinking, the sun, But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves How lovely and joyful tlic course that he run, thinking.

| Though he rose in a mnist when his race he begun, Said I then to my heart, “ Here's a lesson forme:l And there follow'd some droppings of rain! That inan's but a picture of what I might be; 7 But now the fair traveller's come to the west, But thanks to niy friends for their care in mx His rays all are gold, and his beauties are hest; breeding,

Treading!' | He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest, Who taught nie betimes to love working and!. And foretels a bright rising again.

Justauch is the Christian : bis course he begins

Likethesunina inisi, when he mournsforhissins, $ 61. The Rose. Watts.

Andineltsinio tears; then he breaks out &shincs, How fair is the Rose! wlmt a beautiful flow'r! | And travels his heavenly way: The glory of April and May!

But, when he comes nearer to finish his race, But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour, Like a fine setting sun, be looks richer in grace, And they wither and die in a day.

| And gives a sure bope at the end of his days Yet the rosc has one powerful virtue to boast, Of rising in brighter array!

Above all the flow'rs of the field : Clost, When its leaves are all dead, and fine colors are Still how sweet a perfume it will yield !

$ 64. The Nunc Dimilis. Merrick. So frail is the youth and the beauty of men, Jung Tho' they blooin and look gay like the rose;

l'Tis enough-the hour is come : But all our fond care to preserve them is vain ;

Now within the silent tomb Time kills them as fast as he goes,

Let this mortal frame decay,

Mingled with its kindred clay ; Then I'll not be proud of my youthor my beauty, Since thy mercies, oft of old Since both of thein wither and fade;

By thy chosen seers foretold, But gain a good name by well doing my duty : Faithful now and stedfast prave, This will scent like a rose when I'm dead.

God of truth, and God of love!

Since at length my aged eye . $ 62. The Ant, or Emmet. Watts, Sees the day-spring from on bigh! THESE emmets, how little they are in our eyes!

Son of rigliteousness, to thee,

Lo! the nations bow the knee; We tread thein to dust, and a troop of them

And the realms of distant kings

Own the healing of thy wings.
Without our regard or concern :
Yet as wise as we are, if we went to their school,

Those whom death had overspread

| With his dark and Treary shade, i There's many a slurcard, and many a fool,

Lift their eyes, and from afar Soine lessons of wisdom might learn.

Hail the light of Jacob's Star; They don't wear their iime oulin sleepingorplay, Waiting till the promis'd ray But gather upcorn in a sun-shiny day,

Turn their darkness into das. And for winter they lay up their siores : See the beams intensely sheil, They manage their work in such regular forms, | Shinc o'er Sion's favorid head! One would think they foresaw all the frosts and Never may they hence rempore, the storms,

God of truth and God of love! And so brought their food within doors.

$65. The Benedicite paraphrased. Merrick. Ye frosts, that bind the wai'ry plain,

Ye silent show'rs of Acecy rain, Te works of God, on him alone,


Pursue the hear'nly theme;
In carth his footstool, heav'n his throne,

Praise hija ivho sheds the driving snow,
Be all your praise bestow'd;
Whose hand the beauteous fabric made,

Forbids the harden'd waves to flow,
Whose eye the finish'd work survey’d,

And stops the rapid strcam, And saw that all was good.

| Ye days and nights, that swifily borne Ye angels, that with loud acclaim

From morn to eve, froin eie to morn, Admiring view'd the new-born frame,

Alternate glide away, And hail'd the Eternal King,

Praise hin, whose never-varying light, Agrin proclaim yone Maker's praise,

| Absent, adds horror to the night, Again your thankful voices raise,

But, present, gives the day. And touch the tuneful string.

Light, from whose rivs all beauty springs ; Praise him, ye blest thereal plains,

Darkness, whose wide-expanded wings Where, in full majesty, he deigns

Involve the dusky globe; To fix his awful throne:

Praise him who, when the heav'ns he spread. Ye waters that above him roll,

Darkness his thick pavilion made, From orb to orb, from pole to pole,

And light his regal robe, O make his praises known!

Praise him, ye lightnings, as ye fly Ye thrones, dominions, virtues, pow'rs,

Wing'd with his vengeance throthe sky, Join șc your jurful songs with ours;

And red with wrath divine; With us your voices raise !

Praise him, ye cloudis that wand'ring stray, From age to age extend the lay,

Or, fix'd by him, in close array
To Heaven's Eternal Monarch pay

Surround lus aurtul shrine.
Hymns of eternal praise.
Celestial orb! whose powerful ray

Exalt, О Earth! thy I leav'nly King,
Opes the glad eyelids of the day,

Who bids the plants that forni the spring Whose influence all things own;

With annual verdure bloom; Praise him, whose courts effulgent shine

Whose frequent drops of kindly rain, With light as far excelling thine,

| Prolific swell the rip'ning grain, As thine the paler inoon.

And bless thy fertile womb. Ye glitt'ring planets of the sky,

Ye mountains, that ambitious rise, Whose lainps the absent sun supply,

And heave your summits to the skies, With him the sorg pursue ;

Revere his awful nod; And let himself submissive own,

Think how you once affrighted Aed ; He borrow's from a brighter Sun

When Jordan sought his fountain-head, The light he lends to you,

And own'd the approaching God.
Ye show'ss and dews, whose moisture shed Ye trecs, that fill the rural scene;
Calls into life the op'ning seed,

Ye flow'rs, that o'er the enamellid green
To him your praises yield,

In native beauty reign; . Whose influence wakes the genial birth, 10 praise the Ruler of the skies, Drops fatness on the pregnanti earth,

Whose hand the genial sap supplies, And crowns the laughing ficlu.

And clothes the smiling plain. Ye winds, that oft tempestuous sweep | Ye secret springs, ye gentle rills, The curied surface of the deep,

Thui murm'ring rise among the hills,
With us confess your God;

Or fill the humble vale;
Se thro' the heav'ns the King of kings, Praise him, at whose Almighty nod
Upborne on your expanded wings,

The rugged rock dissolving flow'd,
Come flying all abroad.

And form'd a springing well. Yi fonds of fire, where'er ye flow,

Praise him, ye floods, and seas profound, With just submission humbly bow ,

Whose waves the spacious earth surround, To his superior pow'r,

And roll from shore to shore, Who stops the tempest on its way,

1 Aw'd by his voice, ye seas, subside; Or bids the fiaminy delugu stray,

Ye foods within your charinels glide,
And gives its strength to roar.

And tremble and adore.
Ye summer's heat, and winter's cold, Ye whales, that stir the boiling decp,
By turns in long succession rolid,

Or in its dark recesses sleep,
The drooping world to cheer,

Remote from human eye,
Praise him who gave the sun and moon Praise him by whom ye all are feel;
To lead the various seasons on,

Praise him, without whose hervenis aid
And guide the circling year.

Ye languish, faint, and die.

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