Let man, by nobler pafsions fway'd,
The feeling heart, the judging head,
In heav'nly praise employ;

Spread his tremendous name around,

Till heav'n's broad arch rings back the found,
The gen'ral burst of joy.

Ye whom the charms of grandeur please,
Nurs'd on the downy lap of Eafe,

Fall proftrate at his throne:

Ye princes, rulers, all adore;

Praife him, ye kings, who makes your pow'r

An image of his own.

Ye fair, by nature form'd to move,

O praise th' eternal SOURCE OF LOVE,
With youth's enlivening fire:

Let age take up the tuneful lay,

Sigh his blefs'd -then foar away,

name

And afk an angel's lyre.

SECTION XV.

The Univerfal Prayer.

FATHER OF ALL! in ev'ry age,

In ev'ry clime, ador'd,

By faint, by favage, and by fage,

Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

ANON.

Thou GREAT FIRST CAUSE, leaft understood,

Who all my fenfe confin'd

To know but this, that Thou art good,

And that myfelf am blind;

Yet gave me, in this dark estate,

To fee the good from ill;

And binding Nature faft in Fate,

Left free the human will;

What confcience dictates to be done,

Or warns me not to do,

This teach me more than hell to fhun, That more than heav'n purfue.

What blefsings thy free bounty gives

For God is paid, when man receives;
T' enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to earth's contracted fpan
Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think thee Lord alone of man,
When thoufand worlds are round.

Let not this weak, unknowing hand
Prefume thy bolts to throw;
And deal damnation round the land,
On each I judge thy foe.

If I am right, thy grace impart,
Still in the right to stay;

If I am wrong, Oh teach my heart
To find that better way!

Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious difcontent,
At aught thy wiidom has denied,
Or aught thy goodness lent.

Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I fee;
That mercy I to others fhow,
That mercy fhow to me.
Mean tho' I am, not wholly fo,
Since quicken'd by thy breath;
O lead me wherefoe'er I go,
Thro' this day's life or death!

This day, be bread and peace my lot:

All elfe beneath the fun

Thou know'ft if best bestow'd or not,
And let thy will be done.

To Thee, whofe temple is all space,
Whofe altar, earth, fea, skies!

One chorus let all being raife!
All Nature's incenfe rife!

POPE.

SECTION ΧΡΙ.

Confcience.

O treach'rous Confcience! while fhe feems to fleep
On rofe and myrtle, lull'd with fyren fong;
While the feems, nodding o'er her charge, to drop
On headlong Appetite the flacken'd rein,
And give us up to licence, unrecall'd,
Unmark'd;-fee, from behind her fecret ftand,
The fly informer minutes ev'ry fault,

And her dread diary with horror fills.
Not the grofs act alone employs her pen;
She reconnoitres Fancy's airy band,

A watchful foe! the formidable spy,
Lift'ning, o'erhears the whispers of our camp;
Our dawning purposes of heart explores,
And steals our embryos of iniquity.
As all-rapacious ufurers conceal

Their doomsday-book from all-confuming heirs;
Thus, with indulgence most severe, she treats
Us fpendthrifts of ineftimable time;
Unnoted, notes each moment mifapply'd;
In leaves more durable than leaves of brafs,
Writes our whole hiftory; which Death fhall read
In ev'ry pale delinquent's private car;

And judgment publish; publish to more worlds
Than this; and endless age in groans refound.

SECTION XVII.

On an Infant.

To THE dark and filent tomb,
Soon I hafted from the womb;
Scarce the dawn of life began,
Ere I meafur'd out my fpan.
I no fmiling pleasures knew;
I no gay delights could view :
Joylefs fojourner was I,
Only born to weep and die.
Happy infant, early blefs'd!
Reft, in peaceful flumber, reft;.
Early refcu'd from the cares,
Which increafe with growing years..

No delights are worth thy stay,
Smiling as they feem, and gay;
Short and fickly are they all,
Hardly tafted ere they pall.
All our gaiety is vain,
All our laughter is but pain:
Lafting only, and divine,
Is an innocence like thine.

SECTION XVIII.

The Cuckoo..

HAIL, beauteous ftranger of the wood,

Attendant on the Spring!

Now heav'n repairs thy rural feat,

And woods thy welcome fing.

YOUNG..

Soon as the daify decks the green,
Thy certain voice we hear:
Haft thou a star to guide thy path,
Or mark the rolling year?
Delightful vifitant! with thee

I hail the time of flow'rs,

When heaven is fill'd with mufic fweet Of birds among the bow'rs.

The fchool-boy, wand'ring in the wood,

To pull the flow'rs fo gay,
Starts, thy curious voice to hear,
And imitates thy lay.

Soon as the pea puts on the bloom,
Thou fly'ft thy vocal vale,

An annual gueft, in other lands,
Another spring to hail.

Sweet bird! thy bow'r is ever green,

Thy fky is ever clear;

Thou haft no forrow in thy fong,
No winter in thy year!

O could I fly, I'd fly with thee;
We'd make, with focial wing,
Our annual vifit o'er the globe,,
Companions of the spring,

SECTION XIX.

Day. A Paftoral in three Parts

MORNING.

In the barn the tenant cock,

Close to Partlet perch'd on high, Britkly crows, (the fhepherd's clock !) Jocund that the morning's nigh..