Th'unwearied Sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's pow'r difplay,
And publishes to ev'ry land

The next line with great folemnity.

The work of an Almighty Hand

Soon as the evening fhades prevail,
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale,
And nightly to the lift'ning earth

Repeats the ftory of her birth:

Whilft all the ftars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,

And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What tho' in folemn filence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball!!
What tho' nor real voice nor found
Amid their radiant orbs be found!

In Reafon's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever finging as they shine,

"The Hand that made us is Divine."

The last with great emphatic folemnity.

The next is his Hymn on Gratitude, a compofition of great fimplicity of thought and expreffion. Throughout the whole, we have nothing to advise the reader, but his ftrict obfervance of that gravity of voice we before recommended, and which cannot poffibly be difpenfed with in reading productions of this ferious defcription; and, at the fame time, to take care that his looks fhould alfo correfpond with the folemn occafion.

WHEN all thy mercies, O my God,
My rifing foul furveys;
Transported with the view, I'm loft
In wonder, love, and praife.

O 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 redrefs'd,
When in the filent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breaft.

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

Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt

To form themfelves in pray'r.

Un

Unnumber'd comforts to my foul!
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 unfeen convey'd me fafe,

And led me up to man.

Thro' hidden dangers, toils, and deaths
It gently clear'd my way,
And thro' the pleafing fnares of vice,
More to be fear'd than they..

When worn with fickness, oft haft thou
With health renew'd my face;
And when in fins and forrows 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 thoufand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ;

Nor is the least a cheerful heart,
That taftes thofe gifts with joy.

Thro' ev'ry period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;

And after death, in diftant worlds,
The gloricus theme renew.

When Nature fails, and day and night
Divide thy works no more,

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

Thro' all eternity to thee
A joyful fong I'll raise ;:
For, oh! eternity's too short:
To utter all thy praife..

Prepare the hearer by your manner of reading the laft verfe, that the conclufion is near at hand. In fome parts of this Hymn your judgment may dictate various inflections of tone as neceffary in order to prevent a monotony (a fault of all others the most insufferable) but, in doing this, efpecial care fhould be taken that in the change of voice you may think proper to adopt, the indispensable jolemn and awful effect of the whole should not be in the smallest degree diminished. To enter at any time into too high a key will serve, in a great. measure, to destroy it..

The

The laft Hymn we fall give the scholar will be that, by the fame writer, on Providence. We never could read it but our ear led us into a harmony of expreffion fuitable to the mufical flow of metrical numbers. in the compofition.

THE Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care;
His prefence shall my wants fupply,
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noon-day walks he fhall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend..

When in the fultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountains pant;
To fertile vales, and dewy meads,
My weary wand'ring steps he leads;
Where peaceful rivers, foft and flow;.
Amid the verdant landscape flow..

Tho' in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My ftedfaft heart fhall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me ttill;
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me thro' the dreadful shade..

Tho' in a bare and rugged way,
Thro' devious lonely, wilds I ftray,

Thy