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Mark'd their dependence fo, and firm accord,
As with unfault'ring accent to conclude,
That This availeth nothing? Has any feen
The mighty chain of beings, lefs'ning down.
From infinite perfection, to the brink

Of dreary nothing, defolate abyfs!

From which aftonish'd Thought, recoiling,

turns?

Till then alone let zealous praise ascend,
And hymns of holy wonder, to that POWER,
Whose wisdom fhines as lovely in our minds,
As on our fmiling eyes his fervant-fun.

THOMSON.

ODE TO PEACE.

COME, Peace of Mind, delightful guest!

Return, and make thy downy nest

Once more in this fad heart: Nor riches I, nor power pursue, Nor hold forbidden joys in view; We therefore need not part.

Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me,
From Av'rice and Ambition free,

And Pleafure's fatal wiles;

For whom, alas! doft thou prepare
The fweets that I was wont to fhare,
The banquet of thy smiles ?

The great, the gay, fhall they partake
The heav'n that thou alone canft make;
And wilt thou quit the ftream,
That murmurs through the dewy mead,
The grove, and the fequefter'd shade,
To be a guest with them?

For thee I panted, thee I priz'd,
For thee I gladly facrificed

Whate'er I lov'd before;

And fhall I fee thee ftart away,

And helplefs, hopeless, hear thee fay"Farewell we meet no more?"

COWPER

THE TWENTY-FIFTH CHAPTER OF JOB

PARAPHRASED.

THEN will vain man complain and murmur still, And ftand on terms with his Creator's will?

Shall this high privilege to clay be given?
Shall duft arraign the providence of Heaven?
With reafon's line the boundless distance scan?
Oppofe Heaven's awful majelty to man?
To what a length his vaft dimenfions run!
How far beyond the journeys of the fun!
He hung yon golden balls of light on high,
And launch'd the planets through the liquid sky:
To rolling worlds he mark'd the certain space,
Fix'd and fuftain'd the elemental peace.
Unnumber'd as thofe worlds his armies move,
And the gay legions guard his realms above;
High o'er th' ethereal plains the myria ls rife,
And pour their flaming ranks along the skies:
From their bright arms inceffant fplendours ftream,
And the wide azure kindles with the gleam.
To this low world he bids the light repair,
Down through the gulphs of undulating air:
For man he taught the glorious fun to roll
From his bright barrier to his western goal.
How then fhall man, thus infolently proud,
Plead with his judge, and combat with his God?
How from his mortal mother can he come
Unstain’d from sin, untinctur'd from the womb ?
The Lord, from his fublime empyreal throne,
As a dark globe regards the filver moon.

Thofe ftars, that grace the wide celefțial plain,
Are but the humbleft sweepings of his train,
Dim are the brightest splendours of the sky;
And the fun darkens in Jehovah's eye.
But does not fin diffufe a fouler ftain,

And thicker darkness cloud the foul of man?
Shall he the depths of endless wisdom know?
This fhort-liv'd fovereign of the world below?
His frail original confounds his boast,

Sprung from the ground, and quicken'd from the duft.

A BIRTH-DAY THOUGHT.

CAN I, all gracious Providence!
Can I deferve thy care?

Ah! no! I've not the leaft pretence
To bounties which I fhare.

Have I not been defended still
From dangers and from death;
Been fafe preferv'd from ev'ry ill,

E'er fince thou gav'st me breath?

PITT,

I live once more, to fee the day
That brought me first to light;
O! teach my willing heart the way
To take thy mercies right.

Tho' dazzling fplendor, pomp, and thew,

My fortune has denied ;

Yet more than grandeur can bestow
Content hath well fupplied.

No ftrife has e'er difturb'd my peace,

No mis'ries have I known;

And, that I'm blefs'd with health and ease,
With humble thanks I own.

I envy no one's birth or fame,
Their titles, train, or drefs;
Nor has my pride e'er ftretch'd its aim
Beyond what I poffefs.

I ask and wifh, not to appear
More beauteous, rich, or gay;
Lord, make me wiser ev'ry year,

And better ev'ry day.

ΑΝΟΝ.

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