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A GENERAL SONG OF PRAISE TO GOD.

HOW glorious is our heav'nly King,

Who reigns above the sky!

How fhall a child presume to fing

His dreadful majesty ?

How great his pow'r is, none can tell,
Nor think how large his grace;
Not men below, nor faints that dwell
On high before his face.

Not angels, that stand round the Lord,
Can fearch his fecret will !

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But they perform his heavenly word,
And fing his praises still.

Then let me join this holy strain,
And my first off'rings bring;
Th' eternal God will not disdain
To hear an infant fing.

My heart refolves, my tongue obeys;
And angels fhall rejoice

To hear their mighty Maker's praise

Sound from a feeble voice.

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A CONTEMPLATION.

O NATURE! 'grateful for the gifts of mind,
Duteous, I bend before thy holy fhrine:
To other hands be Fortune's goods affign'd,
And thou, more bounteous, grant me only thine.

Bring gentleft Love, bring Fancy to my breaft; And if wild Genius, in his devious way, Would fometimes deign to be my evening guest, Or near my lone fhade not unkindly stray;

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I ask no more! for happier gifts than these,
The fufferer, man, was never born to prove,
But may my foul eternal flumbers feize,
If loft to Genius, Fancy, and to Love!

LANGHORNE.

GRATITUDE.

WHEN all thy mercies, O my God
My rifing foul furveys,

Tranfported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praife.

Oh how fhall words, with equal warmth,

The gratitude declare,

That glows within my

ravifh'd heart?

But thou canst read it there.

Thy Providence my life fuftain'd,

And all my wants redrest, When in the filent womb I lay And hung upon the breast.,

To all my weak complaints and cries,
Thy mercy lent an ear,

Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt
To form themfees in prayer.

Unnumber'd comforts to my fou!
Thy tender care bestow'd,

Before

my

infant heart conceiv'd

From whom those comforts flow'd.

When, in the flipp'ry paths of youth,' With heedlefs fteps, I ran,

Thine arm, unfecn, convey'd me safe,

And led me up to man.

Thro' hidden dangers, toils, and death, It gently clear'd my way;

And thro' the pleasing fnares of vice,
More to be fear'd than they.

When worn by fickness, oft haft thou
With health renew'd my face,
And, when in fins and forrow funk,
Reviv'd my foul with grace.

Thy bounteous hand, with worldly blifs,

Has made my cup run o'er;

And, in a kind and faithful friend,
Has doubled all my ftore.

Ten thousand thousand precious gifts

My daily thanks employ;

Nor is the leaft, a chearful heart,
That tastes thofe gifts with joy.

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And, after death, in diftant worlds,

The glorious theme renew.

When Nature fails, and day and night

Divide thy works no more,

My ever-grateful heart, O Lord!
Thy mercy fhall adore.

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Thro' all eternity, to Thee

A joyful fong I'll raife,

For O! Eternity's too short,

To utter all thy. Praise.

ADDISON.

THE ALL-SEEING GOD.

ALMIGHTY God, thy piercing eye

Strikes thro' the fhades of night,
And our moft fecret actions lie
All open to thy fight.

Here's not a fin that we commit,

Nor wicked word we say,

But in thy dreadful Book 'tis writ,
Against the judgment day.

And must the crimes that I have done
Be read and publish'd ther?

Be all expos'd before the fun,
While men and angels hear?

Lord, at thy foot afham'd I lie
Upward I dare not loøk :

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