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ELEGANT EXTRACT S.

POETICAL.

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§2. Another Addrefs to the Deity. YOUNG. THOU great Arbiter of life and death! Nature's immortal, immaterial Sun! Whofe all-prolific beam late call'd me forth From darkness, teeming darkness, where I lay The worm's inferior, and in rank beneath The duft I tread on, high to bear my brow; To drink the spirit of the golden day, And triumph in existence; and couldst know No motive but my blifs; and haft ordain'd A rife in bleffing! with the Patriarch's joy, Thy call I follow to the land unknown. I truft in Thee, and know in whom I trust; Or life or death is equal; neither weighs! All weight in this O let me live to Thee!

183. The Morning Hymn of Adam and Eve. MILTON.

THESE are thy glorious works, Parent of good,

Almighty, thine this univerfal frame, Thus wond'rous fair,thyfelf how wond'rous then! Unfpeakable, who fitt'ft above thefe Heavens To us invisible, or dimly seen

In thefe thy lowest works; yet thefe declare Thy goodnefs beyond thought, and pow'r divine. Speak ye who belt can tell, ye fons of light, Angels; for ye behold him, and with fongs And choral fymphonies, day without night,

MORA L.

Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heav'n,
On earth, join all ye creatures to extol
Him first, him laft, him midft, and without end.
Faireft of itars, laft in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day, that crown'ft the finiling morn
While day arifes, that fweet hour of prime.
With thy bright circlet, praife him in thy fphere,
Thou Sun, of this great world both eye and foul,
Acknowledge Him thy greater; found his praise
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,
And when high noon has gain'd, and when thou
fall'ft.

Moon, that now meet'ft the orient fun, now fly'st
With the fix'd ftars, fix'd in their orb that flies,
And ye five other wand'ring fires that move
In myftic dance, not without fong, refound
His praife, who out of darkness call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth
Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix
And nourish all things; let your ceafelefs change
Vary to our great Maker ftill new praife.
Ye Mifts and Exhalations that now rife
From hill or ftreaming lake, dusky or grey,
Till the fun paint your fleecy fkirts with gold,
In honour to the world's great Author rife!
Whether to deck with clouds th'uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirfty earth with falling fhow'rs,
Rifing or falling, ftill advance his praise.
His praife, ye Winds,that from four quarters blow,
Breathe foft or loud; and wave your tops, ye Pines,
With ev'ry plant in fign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow
Melodious murmurs, warbling, tune his praife.
Join voices, all ye living Souls; ye Birds,
That finging up to Heav'n's gate afcend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praife.
Ye that in waters glide, and that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
B
Witness

ye

Witnefs if I be filent, morn or even,
To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.
Hail, univerfal Lord! be bounteous ftill
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd,
Difperfe it, as now light difpels the dark.

F

§4. The Univerfal Prayer. POPE. Deo opt. max.

ATHER of all! in ev'ry age,

In ev'ry clime, ador'd,

By Saint, by Savage, and by Sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou Great Firft Caufe, 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 eftate
To fee the good from ill;
And, binding nature fast 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 purfuc.
What bleffings thy free bounty gives
Let me not caft away;

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

Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound.
Or think Thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand 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 foc.
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 wifdom has deny'd,
Or aught thy goodnefs lent.
Teach me to feel another's woc;
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 beft beftow'd or not;
And let thy will be done.

To Thee, whose temple is all space ;
Whofe altar, earth, fea, skies!
One chorus let all being raife!
All nature's incenfe rife!

$5. Hymn on Gratitude. ADDISON.
WHEN all thy mercies, O my God,
My rifing foul furveys;
Tranfported with the view, I'm loft
In wonder, love, and praise.

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 redreft,
When in the filent womb I lay,

And hung upon the breast.
To all my weak complaints and cries
Thy mercy lent an car,

Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt
To form themselves in pray'r.
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 steps 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 through the pleafing fnares of vice,
More to be fear'd than they.
When worn with fickness, oft hast 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 bliss
Has made my cup run o'er,

And in a kind and faithful friend
Has doubled all my store.
Ten thousand thousand precious gifts;
My daily thanks employ;
Nor is the leaft a cheerful heart

That taftes thofe gifts with joy.
Through every period of my life

Thy goodnets I'll purfue;
And after death in diftant worlds
The glorious theme renew.
When nature fails, and day and night
Divide thy works no more,
My ever-grateful heart, O Lord,
Thy mercy fhall adore.
Through all eternity to Thee

A joyful fong I'll raife;
For O! Eternity's too fhort
To utter all thy praife!

§ 6. Hymn

§ 6. Hymn on Providence, from Pfalm 23d. ADDISON.

THE Lord my pafture fhall prepare,

And feed me with a fhepherd's care:
His prefence fhall 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 fteps he leads;
Where peaceful rivers, foft and flow,
Amid the verdant landskip 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 ftill
Thy friendly crook fhall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Tho' in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds I ftray,
Thy bounty fhall my pains beguile :
The barren wilderness fhall finile,
With fudden greens and herbage crown'd;
And streams fhall murmur all around.

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$7. Hymn, from the beginning of the 19th Pfalm. ADDISON.

THE fpacious firmament on high,

With all the blue ethereal fky,
And fpangled heav'ns, a fhining frame,
Their Great Original proclaim:
Th'unwearied fun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's pow'r difplay,
And publishes to ev'ry land
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the evening shades 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 though in folemn filence all
Move round the dark terreftrial 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 fhine,
"The hand that made us is divine".

§8. Hymn. Mrs. Rowe. THE glorious armies of the sky To thee, Almighty King, Triumphant anthems confecrate, And hallelujahs fing.

But ftill their most exalted flights

Fall vaftly fhort of thee:
How diftant then must human praise
From thy perfections be !

Yet how, my God, fhall I refrain,
When to my ravish'd fenfe
Each creature, everywhere around,
Difplays thy excellence!

The active lights that shine above,
In their eternal dance,
Reveal their skilful Maker's praise
With filent elegance.

The blufhes of the morn confefs
That thou art ftill more fair,
When in the Eaft its beams revive,
To gild the fields of air.
The fragrant, the refreshing breeze
Of ev'ry flow'ry bloom

In balmy whifpers own, from Thee
Their pleafing odours come.
The finging birds, the warbling winds,
And waters murm'ring fall,
To praife the first Almighty Caufe,
With diff'rent voices call.

Thy num'rous works exalt thee thus,
And fhall I filent be?
No; rather let me ceafe to breathe,

Than cease from praising Thee!

$9. Hymn. Mrs. RowE. THOU didft, O mighty God! exift Ere time began its race;

Before the ample elements

Fill'd up the void of space :
Before the pond'rous earthly globe
In fluid air was stay'd;
Before the ocean's mighty fprings

Their liquid ftores difplay'd:

Ere through the gloom of ancient night The ftreaks of light appear'd; Before the high celestial arch

Or ftarry poles were rear'd:
Before the loud melodious fpheres
Their tuneful round begun;
Before the fhining roads of heav'n
Were meafur'd by the fun :

Ere thro' the empyrean courts
One hallelujah rung;
Or to their harps the fons of light
Extatic anthems fung:

Ere men ador'd, or angels knew,

Or prais'd thy wond'rous name;
Thy blifs, O facred Spring of life!
Thy glory was the fame.
And when the pillars of the world
With fudden ruin break,
And all this vaft and goodly frame
Sinks in the mighty wreck;

Ba

When

When from her orb the moon shall start,

Th'aftonifh'd fun roll back,

And all the trembling starry lamps
Their ancient courfe forfake;

For ever permanent and fix'd,
From agitation free,
Unchang'd in everlasting years,
Shall thy exiftence be.

OGILVIE.

10. Hymn, from Pfalm 148th.
BEGIN, my foul, th’exalted lay! -
Let each enraptur'd thought obey,
And praife th'Almighty's name:
Lo! heaven and earth, and feas and skies,
In one melodious concert rife,

To fwell th'infpiring theme.
Ye fields of light, celeftial plains,
Where gay tranfporting beauty reigns,

Ye fcenes divinely fair!

Your Maker's wond'rous power proclaim;
Tell how he form'd your thining frame,
And breath'd the fluid air.

Ye angels, catch the thrilling found!
While all th'adoring thrones around
His boundless mercy fing:
Let ev'ry lift'ning faint above
Wake all the tuneful foul of love,

And touch the sweetest ftring.
Join, ye loud fpheres, the vocal choir:
Thou dazzling orb of liquid fire,

The mighty chorus aid :
Soon as grey ev'ning gilds the plain,
Thou moen protract the melting ftrain,
And praife him in the fhade.

Thou heav'n of heav'ns, his vaft abode,
Ye clouds, proclaim your forming God,

Who call'd yon worlds from night: "Ye fhades, difpel!"-th'Eternal faid! At once th'involving darkness fled,

And nature fprung to light. Whate'er a blooming world contains, That wings the air, that fkims the plains, United praise bestow :

Ye dragons found his awful name
To heav'n aloud! and roar acclaim
Ye fwelling deeps below.

Let ev'ry element rejoice:
Ye thunders, burft with awful voice

To him who bids you roll;
His praife in fofter notes declare,
Each whifpering breeze of yielding air,
And breathe it to the foul.
To him, ye graceful cedars, bow;
Ye tow'ring mountains, bending low,
Your great Creator own;
Tell when affrighted nature flrook,
How Sinai kindled at his look,

And trembled at his frown.

Ye flocks that haunt the humble vale,
Ye infects fluttering on the gale,

In mutual concourfe rife:

Crop the gay rofes vermeil bloom, And waft its fpoils, a fweet perfume, In incenfe to the fkies.

Wake all ye mounting tribes, and fing;
Ye plumy warblers of the ipring,

Harmonious anthems raife

To him who fhap'd your finer mould,
Who tipp'd your glittering wings with gold,
And turn'd your voice to praife.

Let man, by nobler passions sway'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 make 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:
age take up the tuneful lay,
Sigh his blefs'd name-then foar away,
And ask an angel's lyre.

Let

§11. Hymn. ANON.

HOW are thy fervants bleft, O Lord?

How fure is their defence !
Eternal Wisdom is their guide;

Their help Omnipotence.
In foreign realms and lands remote,
Supported by thy care,
Through burning climes I pafs'd unhurt,
And breath'd in tainted air.

Thy mercy fweeten'd every foil,
Made every region pleafe;
The hoary Alpine hills it warm'd,

And fimooth'd the Tyrrhene feas.
Think, O my foul, devoutly think,
How with affrighted eyes
Thou faw'ft the wide extended deep
In all its horrors rife !

Confufion dwelt in ev'ry face,
And fear in ev'ry heart,

When waves on waves, and gulphs in gulphs,
O'ercame the pilot's art.

Yet then from all my griefs, O Lord,
Thy mercy fet me free;
While in the confidence of pray'r

My foul took hold on thee.
For tho' in dreadful whirls we hung
High on the broken wave,

I knew thou wert not flow to hear,
Nor impotent to fave.

The

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