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And O deseend to sweeten all the rest,
Soft smiling peace, in white-rob'd virtue drest;
Content unenvious, ease with freedom join'd,
And contemplation calm, with truth refin'd:
Deign but in this fair scene with me to dwell,
All noise and nonsense, pomp and show, farewell.
Dodsley.

30.-A Thought on Eternity.

ERE the foundations of the world' were laid,
Ere kindling light th' Almighty word obey'd',
Thou wert'; and when the subterraneous flame
Shall būrst its prison, and devour" this frame,
From angry Heaven when the keen lightning ffies,
When fervent heat dissolves the melting skies',
Thou still shalt be; still as thou wert before",
And know no change', when time shall be no more".
O endless' thought! divine Eternity'!

Th' immortal soul' shares but a part of thee!.
For thou wert present when our life began',
When the warm dust' shot up in breathing man'.

Ah! what is life'? with ills encompass'd round,
Amidst our hopes', fate strikes the sudden wound':
To-day the statesman of new' honour dreams,
To-morrow' death destroys' his airy schemes.
Is mouldy treasure' in thy chest confin'd?
Think all' that treasure thou must leave behind';
Thy heir with smiles shall view thy blazon'd hearse',
And all thy hoards' with lavish hand disperse'.
Should certain fate th' impending blow delay',
Thy mirth will sicken', and thy bloom decay';
Then feeble age' will all thy nerves disarm',
No more thy blood' its narrow channels warm'.
Who then would wish to stretch' this narrow span,
To suffer' life beyond the date of man?

The virtuous soul pursues a nobler" aim,
And life' regards but as a fleeting dream':
She longs to wake', and wishes to get free',
To launch from earth' into eternity.

For while the boundless theme extends' our thought,
Ten thousand' thousand' rolling years are nought'. Gay.

31.-David's Trust in God.

THE warrior thus in song his deeds express'd,
Nor vainly boasted what he but confess'd;
While warlike actions were proclaim'd abroad,
That all their praises should refer to God.
And here, to make this bright design arise,
In fairer splendour to the nation's eyes,
From private valour he converts his lays,
For yet the public claim'd attempts of praise;
And public conquests where they jointly fought,
Thus stand recorded by reflecting thought:
God sent his Samuel from his holy seat
To bear the promise of my future state,
And I, rejoicing, see the tribes fulfil
The promis'd purpose of Almighty will;
Subjected Sichem, sweet Samaria's plain,
And Succoth's valleys, have confess'd my reign;
Remoter Gilead's hilly tracts obey,

Manasseh's parted sands accept my sway;

Strong Ephraim's sons and Ephraim's ports are mine,
And mine the throne of princely Judah's line:
Then since my people with my standard go,
To bring the strength of adverse empire low,
Let Moab's soil, to vile subjection brought,
With groans declare how well our ranks have fought;
Let vanquish'd Edom bow its humbled head,
And tell how pompous on its pride I tread ;
And now, Philistia, with thy conquering host,
Dismay'd and broke, of conquer'd Israel boast;
But if a Seer or Rabbah yet remain

On Johemaan's hill, or Amon's plain,

Lead forth our armies, Lord, regard our prayer;
Lead, Lord of battles, and we'll conquer there.
As this the warrior spake, his heart arose,
And thus, with grateful turn, perform'd the close:
Though men to men their best assistance lend,
Yet men alone will but in vain befriend;

Through God we work exploits of high renown,
'Tis God that treads our great opposers down

Hear now the praise of well-disputed fields,
The best return victorious honour yields;
'Tis common good restor'd, when lovely peace
Is join'd with righteousness in strict embrace:
Hear, all ye victors, what your sword secures;
Hear, all ye nations; for the cause is yours;
And when the joyful trumpets loudly sound,
When groaning captives in their ranks are bound,
When pillars lift the bloody plumes in air,
And broken shafts and batter'd armour bear;
When painted arches acts of war relate,

When slow processions' pomps augment the state;
When fame relates their worth among the throngs
Thus take from David their triumphant song:
Oh, clap your hands together! oh, rejoice
In God with melody's exalted voice;
Your sacred psalm within his dwelling raise,
And, for a pure oblation, offer praise;
For the rich goodness plentifully shows
He prospers our designs upon our foes.
Then, hither, all ye nations, hither run,
Behold the wonders which the Lord has done;
Behold, with what a mind, the heap of slain,
He spreads the sanguine surface of the plain;
He makes the wars, that mad confusion hurl'd,
Be spent in victories, and leave the world.
He breaks the bended bows, the spears of ire,
And burns the shatter'd chariots in the fire,
And bids the realms be still, the tumults cease,
And know the Lord of war, for Lord of peace.
Parnell.

32.-The Day of Judgment.

Lo! the wide theatre, whose ample space
Must entertain the whole of human race,
At Heaven's all-powerful edict is prepar'd,
And fenc'd around with an immortal guard.
Tribes, provinces, dominions, worlds, o'erflow
The mighty plain, and deluge all below:
And every age, and nation, pours along;
Nimrod and Bourbon mingle in the throng:

Adam salutes his youngest son; no sign
Of all those ages, which their births disjoin.

How empty learning, and how vain is art,
But as it mends the life, and guides the heart!
What volumes have been swell'd, what time been spent
To fix a hero's birth-day or descent?—

What joy must it now yield, what rapture raise,
To see the glorious race of ancient days?
To greet those worthies, who perhaps have stood
Illustrious on record before the flood?
Alas! a nearer care your soul demands.
Cæsar unnoted in your presence stands.

How vast the concourse! not in number more,
The waves that break on the resounding shore;
The leaves that tremble in the shady grove,
The lamps that gild the spangled vaults above.
Those overwhelming armies, whose command
Said to one empire, Fall; another, Stand:
Whose rear lay wrapt in night, while breaking dawn
Rous'd the broad front, and call'd the battle on;
Great Xerxes' world in arms, proud Canna's field,
Where Carthage taught victorious Rome to yield,
Immortal Blenheim, fam'd Ramillia's host,
They all are here, and here they all are lost:
Their millions swell to be discern'd in vain,
Lost as a billow in th' unbounded main.

This echoing voice now rends the yielding air: "For judgment, judgment, sons of men, prepáre !"

"O Thou! whose balance does the mountains weigh, "Whose will the wild tumultuous seas obey, "Whose breath can turn those wat'ry worlds to flame, "That flame to tempest, and that tempest tame; "Earth's meanest son, all trembling, prostrate falls, "And on the boundless of thy goodness calls.

"May sea and land, and earth and heav'n be join'd, "To bring th' eternal Author to my mind! "When oceans roar, or awful thunders roll, "May thoughts of Thy dread vengeance shake my soul! "When earth's in bloom, or planets proudly shine, "Adore, my heart, the Majesty divine!" Young.

33.-The Benedicite Paraphrased.
YE works of God, on him alone,
In earth his footstool, heaven his throne,
Be all your praise bestow'd;
Whose hand the beauteous fabric made,
Whose eye the finish'd work survey'd,
And saw that all was good.

Ye angels, that with loud acclaim
Admiring view'd the new-born frame,
And hail'd th' Eternal King,
Again proclaim your Maker's praise;
Again your thankful voices raise
And touch the tuneful string.

Praise him, ye bless'd æthereal plains,
Where, in full majesty, he deigns
To fix his awful throne:
Ye waters that above him roll
From orb to orb, from pole to pole,
O make his praises known!

Ye mountains, that ambitious rise,
And heave your summits to the skies,
Revere his awful nod;

Think how you once affrighted fled,
When Jordan sought his fountain-head,
And own'd the approaching God.

Ye sons of men, his praise display,
Who stampt his image on your clay,
And gave it power to move;
Ye that in Judah's confines dwell,
From age to age successive tell

The wonders of his love.

Let Levi's tribe the lay prolong,
Till angels listen to the song,

And bend attentive down;

Let wonder seize the heavenly train,

Pleas'd while they hear a mortal strain
So sweet, so like their own.

Merrick.

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