To will alone, is but to mean delay,
To work at present is the ufe of day.
For man's employ much thought and deed remain,
High thoughts the foul, hard deeds the body's
ftrain,

And myfteries afk believing, which to view,
Like the fair fun, are plain, but dazzling too.
Be truth, fo found, with facred heed poffeft,
Not kings have power to tear it from thy breast.
By no blank charters harm they where they hate,
Nor are they vicars, but the hands of fate.
Ah! fool and wretch, who let'ft thy foul be ty'd
To human laws! or muft it fo be try'd?
Or will it boot thee, at the latest day,
When judgment fits, and juftice asks thy plea,
That Philip that, or Gregory taught thee this,
Or John or Martin? all may teach amifs :
For every contrary in each extreme
This holds alike, and each may plead the fame.

Wouldst thou to power a proper duty show ?
'Tis thy first task the bounds of power to know;
The bounds once paft, it holds the fame no more,
Its nature alters, which it own'd before,
Nor were fubmiffion humbleness exprest,
But all a low idolatry at best.

Power from above, subordinately spread,
Streams like a fountain from th' eternal head:
There, calm and pure, the living waters flow,
But roars a torrent or a flood below,
Each flower ordain'd the margins to adorn,
Each native beauty, from its roots is torn,
And left on deferts, rocks and fands, are toft,
All the long travel, and in ocean loft.

So fares the foul, which more that power reveres. Man claims from God, than what in God inheres.

THE GIFT OF POETRY.

FROM realms of never-interrupted peace,
From thy fair station near the throne of grace,
From choirs of angels, joys in endless round,
And endless harmony's enchanting found,
Charm'd with a zeal the Maker's praise to show,
Bright gift of verse descend, and here below
My ravish'd heart with rais'd affection fill,
And warbling o'er the foul incline my will.
Among thy pomp, let rich expreffion wait,
Let raging numbers form thy train complete,
While at thy motions over all the sky
Sweet founds, and echoes fweet, refounding fly;
And where thy feet with gliding beauty tread,
Let fancy's flowery spring erect its head.

It comes, it comes, with unaccustom'd light,
The tracts of airy thought grow wondrous bright,
Its notions ancient memory reviews,
And young invention new designs pursues.
To fome attempt my will and wishes prefs,
And pleasure, rais'd in hope, forbodes fuccefs.
My God! from whom proceed the gifts divine.
My God! I think I feel the gift is thine.
Be this no vain illusion which I find,
Nor nature's impulse on the paffive mind,

But reason's act, produc'd by good defire,
By grace enliven'd with celeftial fire;
While base conceits, like mifty fons of night,
Before fuch beams of glory take their flight,
And frail affections, born of earth, decay,
Like weeds that wither in the warmer ray.
I thank thee, Father! with a grateful mind:
Man's undeserving, and thy mercy kind.
I now perceive, I long to fing thy praise,
I now perceive, I long to find my lays
The fweet incentives of another's love,
And fure fuch longings have their rife above.
My refolution ftands confirm'd within,
My lines afpiring eagerly begin;

Begin, my lines, to fuch a fubject due,
That aids our labours, and rewards them too!
Begin, while Canaan opens to mine eyes,
Where fouls and fongs, divinely form'd, arise.

As one whom o'er the fweetly-vary'd meads Entire recefs and lonely pleafure leads, To verdur'd banks, to paths adorn'd with flowers, To fhady trees, to closely-waving bowers, To bubbling fountains, and afide the stream That foftly gliding fooths a waking dream, Or bears the thought infpir'd with heat along, And with fair images improves a fong; Through facred anthems, fo may fancy range, So ftill from beauty, ftill to beauty change, To feel delights in all the radiant way, And, with fweet numbers, what it feels repay. For this I call that ancient time appear, And bring his rolls to ferve in method here; His rolls which acts, that endless honour claim, Have rank'd in order for the voice of fame. My call is favour'd: Time from first to laft Unwinds his years, the prefent fees the past; I view their circles as he turns them o'er, And fix my footsteps where he went before.

The page unfolding would a top disclose, Where founds melodious in their birth arose. Where first the morning-ftars together fung, Where first their harps the fons of glory ftrung, With fhouts of joy while hallelujahs rife To prove the chorus of eternal fkies. Rich sparkling strokes the letters doubly gild, And all's with love and admiration fill'd.

MOSES.

To grace thofe lines, which next appear to fight, The pencil fhone, with more abated light; Yet ftill the pencil fhone, the lines were fair, And awful Mofes ftands recorded there; Let his, replete with flames and praife divine, Let his, the firft-remember'd fong be mine, Then rife my thought, and in thy prophet find What joy fhould warm thee, for the work defign'd. To that great act, which rais'd his heart, repair, And find a portion of his fpirit there.

A nation helpless and unarm'd I view, Whom ftrong revengeful troops of wat pursue, Seas ftop their flight, their camp must prove their

grave,

Ah what can fave them? God alone can fave.

God's wondrous voice proclaims his high command,

He bids their leader wave the facred wand,
And where the billows flow'd, they flow no more,
A road lies naked, and they march it o'er
Safe may the fons of Jacob travel through,
But why will harden'd Egypt venture too?
Vain in thy rage, to think those waters flee
And rife like walls, on either hand, for thee.
The night comes on, the feafon for surprise,
Yet fear not, Ifrael, God directs thine eyes.
A fiery cloud I fee thine angel ride,
His chariot is thy light, and he thy guide.
The day comes on, and half the fuccours fail,
Yet fear not, Ifrael, God will fill prevail.
I fee thine angel from before thee go,
To make the wheels of venturous Egypt flow,
His rolling cloud inwarps its beams of light,
And what fupply'd thy day, prolongs their night.
At length the dangers of the deep are run,
The further brink is paft, the bank is won;
The leader turns to view the foes behind,
Then waves his folemn wand within the wind,
Oh! nation freed by wonders, cease thy fear,
And ftand, and fee the Lord's falvation here.
Ye tempefts, now, from every corner fly,
And wildly rage in all my fancied fky,
Roll on, ye waters, as they roll'd before,
Ye billows of my fancied ocean, roar ;
Dafh high, ride foaming, mingle, all the main,
'Tis done, and Pharaoh can't afflict again.
The work, the wondrous work of freedom's done,
The winds abate, the clouds reftore the fun,
The wreck appears, the threatening army drown'd
Floats o'er the waves, to ftrew the fandy ground,
Then place thy Mofes near the calming flood,
Majestically mild, ferenely good;
Let meekness, lovely virtue, gently stream
Around his vifage, like a lambent flame;
Let grateful fentiments, let fense of love,
Let holy zeal, within his bofom move;
And while his people gaze the watery plain,
And fear's laft touches like to doubts remain ;
While bright astonishment, that feems to raise
A questioning belief, is fond to praise;
Be thus the rapture in the prophet's breast,
Be thus the thanks for freedom gain'd exprefs'd:
I'll fing to God, I'll fing the fongs of praife,
To God, triumphant in his wondrous ways,
To God, whofe glories in the feas excel,
Where the proud horfe, and prouder rider fell.

The Lord, in mercy kind, in juftice ftrong,
Is now my ftrength; this ftrength be now my fong.
This fure falvation fuch he proves to me,
From danger rescued, and from bondage free;
The Lord's my God, and I'll prepare his feat,
Thy father's God, and I'll proclaim him great;
Him Lord of battles, him renown'd in name,
Him ever-faithful, evermore the fame.
His gracious aids avenge his people's thrall,
They make the pride of boafting Pharaoh fall.
Within the feas his ftately chariots lie,
Within the feas his chofen captains die.
The rolling deeps have cover'd o'er the foe,
They funk like flones, they fwiftly funk below:

Thine hand, my God! thine hand confefs'd thy

care,

Thine hand was glorious in thy power there,
It broke their troops, unequal for the fight,
In all the greatness of excelling might:
Thy wrath fent forward o'er the raging stream,
Swift, fure, and fudden, their deftruction came.
They fell as ftubble burns, while driving skies
Provoke and whirl a flame, and ruin flies.

When blafts, difpatch'd with wonderful intent
On fovereign orders from thy noftrils went,
For our accounts, the waters were afraid,
Perceiv'd thy presence, and together fled;
In heaps uprightly plac'd, they learn to stand,
Like banks of crystal, by the paths of fand.
Then, fondly fluth'd with hope, and fwell'd with
pride,

And fill'd with rage, the foe profanely cry'd,
Secure of conqueft, I'll purfue their way,
I'll overtake them, I'll divide the prey,
My luft I'll fatisfy, mine anger cloy,

My fword I'll brandish, and their name destroy.
How wildly threats their anger, hark! above,
New blafts of wind on new commiffion move,
To loose the fetters that confin'd the main,
And make its mighty waters rage again.
Then, overwhelm'd with their refiftless fway,
They funk like lead, they funk beneath the fea.

Oh, who's like thee, thou dreaded Lord of Hoft!
Among the gods, whom all the nations boast,
Such acts of wonder and of ftrength displays?
Oh great, oh glorious in thine holy ways!
Deferving praife, and that thy praise appear
In figns of reverence, and fenfe of fear.
With justice arm'd, thou stretchedft out thine hand,
And earth between its gaping jaws of land
Receiv'd its waters of the parted main,
And swallow'd up the dark Egyptian train.
With mercy rifing on the weaker fide,
Thyfelf became the rescued people's guide!
And in thy ftrength they past th' amazing road
To reach thine holy mount, thy blefs'd abode.

What thou haft done the neighbouring realms

shall hear,

And feel the strange report excite their fear.
What thou haft done fhall Edom's Duke amaze,
And make defpair on Palestina seize;
Shall make the warlike fons of Moab shake,
And all the melting hearts of Canaan weak,
In heavy damps, diffus'd on every breast,
Shall cold diftruft and hopeless terror rest,
The matchless greatnefs, which thine hand has
shewn,

Shall keep their kingdoms as unmov'd as stone,
While Jordan ftops above, and fails below,
And all thy flock across the channel go.
Thus on thy mercy's filver-fhining wing,
Through feas and ftreams thou wilt the nation

bring.

And as the rooted trees fecurely ftand,
So firmly plant it in the promis'd land;
Where for thyself thou wilt a place prepare,
And after-ages will thine altar rear,
There reign victorious in thy facred feat,
Oh, Lord! for ever and for ever great.

Look where the tyrant was but lately seen,
The feas gave backward, and he ventur'd in:
In yonder gulf with haughty pomp he show'd,
Here march'd his horfenen, there his chariots
rode,

And when our God reftor'd the floods again,
Ab, vainly ftrong, they perish'd in the main;
But lfrael went a dry furprising way,
Made fafe by miracles, amidst the fea.

[joy.
Here ceas'd the fong, though not the Prophet's
Which others hands and others tongues employ;
For fill the lays, with warmth divine expreft,
Inflam'd his hearers to their inmost breast.
Then Miriam's notes the chorus sweetly raise,
And Miriam's timbrel gives new life to praife.
The moving founds, like foft delicious wind,
That breath'd from paradise, a paffage find,
Shed fympathies for odours as they rove,
And fan the rifings of enkindled love.

O'er all the crowd the thought infpiring flew, The women follow'd, with their timbrels too, And thus from Mofes, where his strains arose, They catch'd a rapture, to perform the close. We'll fing to God, we'll fing the fongs of praife, To God triumphant in his wondrous ways, To God, whofe glories in the feas excel, Where the proud horse and prouder rider fell. Thus Ifrael, raptur'd with the pleafing thought, Of freedom wish'd, and wonderfully got, Made cheerful thanks from every bank refound, Express'd by fongs, improv'd in joy by found. Oh, facred Mofes, each infufing line, That mov'd their gratitude, was part of thine And fill the Chriftians in thy numbers view, The type of baptifm, and of heaven too. So fouls from water rife to grace below, So faints from toil to praise and glory go.

Oh, grateful Miriam, in thy temper wrought,
Too warm for filence, or inventing thought;
Thy part of anthem was to warble o'er,
In fweet response what Mofes fung before.
Thou ledit the public voice to join his lays,
And words redoubling, well redoubled praise.
Receive thy title, prophetess was thine,
When here thy practice fhew'd thy form divine.
The spirit thus approv'd, refign'd in will,
The church bows down, and hears responses still.
Nor lightly fuffer tuneful Jubai's name
To mifs his place among the fons of fame;
Whose sweet infufions could of old infpire
The breathing organs, and the trembling lyre.
Father of thefe on earth, whofe gentle foul,
By fuch engagements, could the miud controul,
If holy verfes aught to music owe,

Be that thy large account of thanks below:
Whilft, then, the timbrels lively pleasure gave,
And, now, whilst organs found fedately grave.
My first attempt the finish'd course commends,
Now, Fancy, flag not, as that fubject ends,
But, charm'd with beauties which attend thy way,
Afcend harmonious in the next effay.
So flies the lark, and learn from her to fly;
She mounts, the warbles on the wind on high,
She falls from thence, and seems to drop her wing,
But, ere fhe lights to reft, remounts to fing.

It is not far the days have roll'd their years Before the second brighten'd work appears, It is not far, alas! the faulty cause, Which, from the prophet, fad reflection draws: Alas! that bleflings in poffeffion cloy, And peevith murmurs are preferr'd to joy; That favour'd Ifrael could be faithless still, Or question God's protecting power or will, Or dread devoted Canaan's warlike men, And long for Egypt and their bonds again. Scarce thrice the fun fince harden'd Pharaoh dy'd, As bridegrooms iffue forth with glittering pride, Rejoicing rofe, and let the nation fee Three fhining days of eafy liberty, Ere the mean fears of want, produc'd within, Vain thought, replenish'd, with rebellious fin.

Oh look not, lirael, to thy former way; God cannot fail; and either wait or pray. Within the borders of thy promis'd lands, Lot's hapless wife a strange example stands, She turn'd her eyes, and felt her change begin, And wrath as fierce may meet resembling fin. Then forward move thy camp, and forward still, And let fweet mercy bend thy ftubborn will.

At thy complaint, a branch in Marah cast,
With fweetening virtue mends the water's tafte.
At thy complaint, the labouring tempeft fails,
| And drives before a wondrous fhower of quails.
In tender grafs the falling manna lies,

And heaven itself the want of bread supplies.
The rock divided, flows upon the plain

At thy complaint, and still thou wilt complain.
As, thus employ'd, thou went the defert through,
Lo! Sinai mount uprear'd its head to view.
Thine eyes perceiv'd the darkly-rolling cloud,
Thine ears the trumpet fhrill, the thunder loud,
The forky lightning fhot in livid green.

The smoke arofe, the mountain all a flame
Quak'd to the depths, and work'd with figns of

awe,

While God defcended to dispense the law.
Yet neither mercy, manifeft in might,
Nor power in terrors could preferve thee right.
Provok'd with crimes of fuch an heinous kind,
Almighty juftice sware the doom defign'd:
That they should never reach the promis'd feat;
And Mofes greatly mourns their haften'd fate.

I'll think how now retir'd to public care,
While night in pitchy plumes flides foft in air,
I'll think him giving what the guilty fleep,
To thoughts where forrow glides, and numbers
weep,

Sad thoughts of woes that reign where such prevail,
And man's fhort life, though not so short as frail.
Within this circle for his inward eyes,

He bids the fading low creation rife,
And ftrait the train of mimic fenfes brings
The dusky fhapes of tranfitory things,
Through penfive fhades, the vifion feem to

range,

They seem to flourish, and they seem to change;
A moon decreasing runs the filent sky,
And fickly birds on moulting feathers fly;
Men walking count their days of bleffing o'er,
The bleflings vanish, and the tale's no more,

Still hours of nightly watches steal away,
Big waters roll, green blades of grafs decay,
Then all the penfive fhades, by just degrees,
Grow faint in profpect, and go off with thefe:
But while th' affecting notions pafs along,
He choofes fuch as beft adorn his fong;
And thus with God the rifing lays began,
God ever reigning, God compar'd with man:
And thus they move to man beneath his rod,
Man deeply finning, man chaftis'd by God.

Oh Lord! Oh Saviour! though thy chosen band Have ftay'd like ftrangers, in a foreign land, Through number'd ages, which have run their

Man (mortal creature) fram'd to feel decays, Thine unrefifted power at pleafnre sways; Thou fay'st return, and parting fouls obey, Thou fay't return, and bodies fall to clay. For what's a thousand fleeting years with thee? Or time, compar'd with long eternity, Whofe wings expanding infinitely vast O'erftretch its utmost ends of first and last; 'I'is like thofe hours that lately faw the fun; He rofe, and fet, and all the day was done : Or like the watches which dread night divide, And while we flumber unregarded glide, When all the prefent feems a thing of nought, And past and future close to waking thought. As taging floods, when rivers fwell with rain, Bear down the groves, and overflow the plain, So fwife and strong thy wondrous might appears, So life is carried down the rolling years. As heavy fleep pursues the day's retreat, With dark, with filent, and unactive state, So life's attended on by certain doom, And death's their reft; their refting-place, a tomb. It quickly rifes, and it quickly goes; And youth its morning, age its evening fhews. Thus tender blades of grafs, when beams diffuse, Rife from the preffure of their carly dews, Point tow'rds the fkies their elevated fpires, And proudly flourish in their green attires; But foon (ah fading ftate of things below!) The fcythe deftructive mows the lovely fhew. The rifing fun thus faw their glories high; That fun defcended, fees their glories die.

[fall;

We still with more than common hafte of fate Are doom'd to perifh, in thy kindled hate. Our public fins for public juftice call, And ftand like marks, on which thy judgments Our fecret fins, that folly thought conceal'd, Are in thy light for punishment reveal'd. Beneath the terrors of thy wrath divine Our days unmix'd with happiness decline, Like empty stories, tedious, fhort, and vain, And never, never more recall'd again. Yet what were life, if to the longest date, Which we have nam'd a life, we backen'd fate,

Alas, its most computed length appears
To reach the limits but of feventy years,
And if by ftrength to fourfcore years we go,
That ftrength is labour, and that labour woe,
Then will thy term expire, and thou must fly,
Oh man! oh creature furely born to die!
But who regards a truth fo throughly known?
Who dreads a wrath fo manifeftly fnewn?
Who feems to fear it, though the danger vies
With any pitch to which our fear can rife?
O teach us fo to number all our days,
That these reflections may correct our ways,
That these may lead us from delusive dreams
To walk in heavenly wifdom's golden beams.

Return, oh Lord: how long shall Israel fin?
How long thine anger be preferv'd within?
Before our time's irrevocably past,

Be kind, be gracious, and return at last;
Let favour foon difpens'd our fouls employ,
And still remember'd favour live in joy.
Send years of comforts for our years of woes,
Send thefe at least of equal length with those,
Shine on thy flock, and on their offspring shine,
With tender mercy (fweetest act divine);
Bright rays of majefty ferenely shed
To reft in glories on the nation's head.
Our future deeds with approbation bless,
And in the giving them give us fuccefs.

Thus with forgiveness earnestly desir'd,
Thus in the raptures of a blifs requir'd,
The man of God concludes his facred ftrain.
Now fit and fee the fubject once again;
See ghaftly death, where deferts all around
Spread forth the barren undelightful ground:
There stalks the filent melancholy fhade,
His naked bones reclining on a fpade;
And thrice the fpade with folemn sadness heaves,
And thrice earth opens in the form of graves,
His gates of darkness gape, to take him in ;
And where he foon would fink, he's push'd by fin.

Poor mortals! here, your common picture know, And with yourselves in this acquainted grow, Through life, with airy, thoughtless pride you range,'

And vainly glitter in the sphere of change,
A fphere where all things but for time remain,
Where no fix'd ftars with endless glory reign,
But meteors only, fhort-liv'd meteors rife,
To fhine, fhoot down, and die beneath the skies.
There is an hour, ah! who that hour attends ?
When man, the gilded vanity, defcends;
When foreign force, or wafte of inward heat,
Conftrain the foul to leave its ancient feat;
When banish'd beauty from her empire flies,
And with a languifh leaves the sparkling eyes;
When foftening mufic and persuasion fail,
And all the charms that in the tongue prevail ;
When fpirits ftop their course, when nerves un-

brace,

And outward action and perception cease;

'Tis then the poor deform'd remains shall be That naked skeleton we feem'd to fee.

Make this thy mirror, if thou would't have

blifs,

No flattering image fhews itfelf in this,

But fuch as lays the lofty looks of pride,
And makes cool thought in humble channel glide;
But fuch as clears the cheats of error's den,
Whence magic mifts furround the fouls of men ;
Whence felf-delufion's trains adorn their flight,
As fnow's fair feathers fleet to darken fight;
Then reft, and in the work of fancy spread,
To gay-wav'd plumes for every mortal's head.
Thele empty forms, when death appears, difperfe,
Or melt in tears, upon its mournful hearse;
The fad reflection forces men to know,
Life furely fails, and swiftly flies below.
Oh, left thy folly lose the profit fought,
Oh never touch it with a glancing thought,
As men to glaffes come, and straight withdraw,
And straight forget what fort of face they faw:
But fix, intently fix, thine inward eyes,
And in the strength of this great truth be wife.
If on the globe's dim fide our senses stray,
Not us'd to perfect light, we think it day:
Death feems long fleep; and hopes of heavenly
beams,

Deceitful wishes, big with diftant dreams;
But if our reafon purge the carnal fight.
And place its objects in their jufter light,
We change the fide, from dreams on earth we
move,

And wake through death, to rifing life above.
Here o'er my foul a folemn filence reigns,
Preparing thought for new celeftial ftrains,
The former vanish off, the new begin,
The folemn filence ftands like night between,
In whose dark bofom day departing lies,
And day fucceeding takes a lovely rise.
But though the fong be chang'd, be ftill the flame,
And ftill the prophet, in my lines the fame;
With care renew'd, upon the children dwell,
Whofe finful fathers in the defert fell,
With care renew'd, if any care can do,
Ah! left they fin, and left they perish too.

Go feek for Mofes at yon facred tent,
On which the Prefence makes a bright descent.
Behold the cloud, with radiant glory fair,
Like a wreath'd pillar, curl itself in air!
Behold it hovering just above the door,
And Mofes meekly kneeling on the floor.
But if the gazing turn thy edge of fight,
And darkness fpring from unfupported light,
Then change the fenfe, be fight in hearing
drown'd,

While these strange accents from the vifion found:

The time, my fervant, is approaching nigh,
When thou fhalt gather'd with thy fathers lie;
And foon thy nation, quite forgetful grown
Of all the glories which mine arm has fhewn,
Shall through my covenant perversely break,
Defpife my worship, and my name forfake,
By cuftoms conquer'd, where to rule they go,
And ferving gods that can't protect their foe.
Difpleas'd at this, I'll turn my face afide
Till fharp Affliction's rod reduce their pride;
Till, brought to better mind, they feek relief,
By good confeffions in the midst of grief.
Then write thy fong, to ftand a witness ftill
Of favours paft, and of my future will,

For I their vain conceits before difcern,
Then write thy fong which Ifrael's fons shall learn.
As thus the wondrous voice its charge repeats,
The prophet mufing deep within repeats,
He feems to feel it on a ftreaming ray,
Pierce through the foul enlightening all its way.
And much obedient will, and free defire,
And much his love of Jacob's feed inspire;
And much, oh! much above the warmth of those,
The facred spirit in his bofom glows,
Majestic Notion feems decrees to nod,
And holy Transport speaks the words of God.!

He now returns, the finish'd roll he brings,
Enrich'd with strains of past and future things;
The priests in order to the tent repair,
The gather'd tribes attend the elders there:
Oh! facred Mercy's inexhausted flore!
Shall these have warning of their faults before,
Shall these be told the recompences due,
Shall heaven and earth be call'd to witness to!
Then still the tumult, if it will be fo,
Let fear, to lose a word, its caution shew;
Let close attention in dead calm appear,
And foftly, foftly steal with filence near;
While Mofes, rais'd above the listening throng,
Pronounces thus in all their ears the fong:

Hear, Oh ye heavens, Creation's lofty fhew, Hear, Oh thou heaven-encompass'd earth below, As filver showers of gently dropping rain, As honey dews diftilling on the plain, As rain, as dews, for tender grass design'd, So fhall my speeches fink within the mind, So fweetly turn the foul's enlivening food, So fill and cherish hopeful feeds of good, For now my numbers to the world abroad Will loudly celebrate the name of God.

Afcribe, thou nation, every favour'd tribe, Excelling greatness to the Lord ascribe, The Lord! the rock on whom we safely trust, Whose work is perfect, and whofe ways are just; The Lord! whofe promise stands for ever true; The Lord! moft righteous, and most holy too.

Ah, worse election! Ah, the bonds of fin! They choose themselves, to take corruption in : They stain their fouls with vice's deepest blots, When only frailties are his children's spots. Their thoughts, words, actions, all are run aftray, And none more crooked, more perverfe, than they. Say, rebel nation, and unwifely light, Say, will thy folly thus the Lord requite? Or is he not the God who made thee free, Whose mercy purchas'd and establish'd thee? Remember well the wondrous days of old, The years of ages long before thee told, Afk all thy fathers, who the truth will fhew, Or afk thine elders, for thine elders know. [down, When the Most High, with fceptre pointed Defcrib'd the realms of each beginning crown, When Adam's offspring providential care, To people countries, fcatter'd here and there; He to the limits of their lands confin'd, That favour'd Ifrael has its part affign'd, For Ifrael is the Lord's, and gains the place Referv'd for thofe, whom he would choose to

grace.