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From the feats of endless

peace

They brought the Son, the Lord of Grace;
They taught him to receive a birth,
To clothe in flesh, to live on earth;
And after, lifted him on high,
And taught him on the crofs to die.
Love celeftial, ardent fire,
O, extreme of fweet defire!
Spread thy brightly raging flame
Through and over all my frame,
Let it warm me, let it burn,
Let my corpfe to afhes turn;

And, might thy flame thus act with me,
To fet the foul from body free,
I next would ufe thy wings, and fly
To meet my Jefus in the sky!

42. A Night Piece on Death. PARNELL. BY the blue taper's trembling light

No more I waste the wakeful night,
Intent with endless view to pore
The fchoolmen and the fages o'er :
Their books from wifdom widely stray,
Or point, at best, the longest way.
I'll feek a readier path, and
go
Where wildom's furely taught below.
How deep yon azure dies the fky!
Where orbs of gold unnumber'd lie;
While thro' their ranks, in filver pride,
The nether crefcent feems to glide.
The flumbering breeze forgets to breathe,
The lake is fimooth, and clear beneath,
Where once again the fpangled thow
Defcends to meet our eyes below.
The grounds which on the right aspire,
In dimnefs from the view retire;
The left prefents a place of graves,
Whofe wall the filent water laves.
That fteeple guides thy doubtful fight
Among the livid gleams of night;
There pafs, with melancholy ftate,
By all the folemn heaps of fate;
And think, as foftly-fad you tread
Above the venerable dead,

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Time was, like thee, they life poffeft; And time hall be, that thou shalt reft.' Thofe graves, with bending ofier bound; That namelet's heave the crumbled ground, Quick to the glancing thought difclofe Where toil and poverty repofe.

The flat finooth ftones that bear a name,
The chiffel's flender help to fame
(Which ere dur fet of friends decay,
Their frequent fteps may wear away)
A middle race of mortals own,
Men half ambitious, all unknown.

The marble tombs that rife on high,
Whofe dead in vaulted arches lie,
Whofe pillars well with feulptur'd ftones,
Arms, angels, epitaphs, and cones;
Thefe, all the poor remains of state,
Adorn the rich, or praife the great;
Who, while on earth in fame they live,
Are fenfclefs of the fame they give.

Ha! while I gaze, pale Cynthia fades,
The burfting earth unveils the hades!
All flow, and wan, and wrapp'd with fhrowds,
They rife in vifionary crowds;

And all with fober accent cry,
"Think, mortal, what it is to die!"

Now, from yon black and fun'ral view,
That bathes the charnel-houfe with dew,
Methinks I hear a voice begin-
(Ye ravens, ccafe your croaking din;
Ye tolling clocks, no time refound
O'er the long lake and midnight ground)—
It fends a peal of hollow groans,
Thus fpeaking from among the bones:
"When men my feythe and darts fupply,
How great a King of Fears am I !
They view me like the laft of things;
They make, and then they dread, my ftings.
Fools! if you fcfs provok'd your fears,
No more my spectre-form appears!
Death's but a path that must be trod,
If man would ever pafs to God:
A port of calms, a state of eafe,
From the rough rage of fwelling feas.

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Why, then, thy flowing fable ftoles, Deep pending cyprefs, mourning poles, Lonte fcarfs to fall athwart thy weeds, Long palls, drawn hearfes, cover'd steeds, And plumes of black, that, as they tread, Nod o'er the 'fcutcheons of the dead? Nor can the parted body know, Nor wants the foul, thefe forms of As men who long in prifon dwell, With lamps that glimmer round the cell, Whene'er their fuff'ring years are run, Spring forth to greet the glittering fun; Such joy, tho' far tranfcending fenfe, Have pious fouls at parting hence. On earth, and in the body plac'd, A few and evil years they wafte: But, when their chains are caft aside, See the glad fcene unfolding wide; Clap the glad wing, and tow'r away, And mingle with the blaze of day.

43. Meffiah, a Sacred Eclogue. PorE. VE Nymphs of Solyma! begin the fong;

To heavenly themes fublimer ftrains belong. The molly fountains and the fylvan fhades, The dreains of Pindus and th'Aonian maids, Delight no more.-O Thou my voice infpire, Who touch'd Ifaiah's hallow'd lips with fire !

Rapt into future times, the bard begun : A Virgin fhall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son! From Jefle's root behold a branch arife, Whofe facred flow'r with fragrance fills the fkies: Th'ethereal spirit o'er its leaves fhall move, And on its topicfcends the myftic Dove. Ye heav'ns! from high the dewy nectar pour, And in foft filence thed the kindly thowr The fick and weak the healing plant fhall aid, From ftorms a fhelter, and from heat a fhade; All crimes fhall ceafe, and antient fraud fhrall fail, Returning Juftice Eft aloft her scale;

Peace

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Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend,
And white-rob'd Innocence from heav'n defcend.
Swift fly the years, and rife th'expected morn!
Oh fpring to light, aufpicious Babe, be born!
See Nature haftes her earliest wreathes to bring,
With all the incenfe of the breathing fpring;
See lofty Lebanon his head advance,
See nodding forefts on the mountains dance,
See fpicy clouds from lowly Saron rife,
And Carmel's flow'ry top perfumes the fkies!
Hark! a glad voice the lonely defart cheers;
Prepare the way! a God, a God appears!
A God, a God! the vocal hills reply:
The rocks proclaim, th'approaching Deity.
Lo, earth receives him from the bending skies!
Sink down, ye mountains, and, ye vallies, rife!
With heads declin'd, ye cedars, homage pay;
Be fmooth, ye rocks; ye rapid floods, give way!
The SAVIOUR comes! - by ancient Bards
foretold;

Hear him, ye deaf! and, all ye blind, behold!
He from thick films fhall purge the vifual ray,
And on the fightlefs eye-ball pour the day:
'Tis he th'obftructed paths of found fhall clear,
And bid new mufic charm th'unfolding car;
The dumb fhall fing, the lame his crutch forego,
And leap exulting like the bounding roe.
No figh, no murmur, the wide world shall hear;
From ev'ry face he wipes off ev'ry tear.
In adamantine chains fhall death be bound,
And hellim tyrant feel th'eternal wound
As the good fhepherd tends his fleecy care,
Seeks fretheft pafture and the purest air,
Explores the loft, the wand'ring fheep directs,
By day o'erfees them, and by night protects :
The tender lambs he raifes in his arms,
Feeds from his hand, and in his bofom warms;
Thus fhall mankind his guardian care engage,
The promis'd Father of the future age..
No more fhall nation against nation rife,
Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes,
Nor fields with gleaming feel be cover'd o'er,
The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more;
But ufclefs lances into fcythes thall bend,
And the broad faulchion in a plowshare end.
Thenlaces fhall rife; the joyful fon
Shall finish what his fhort-liv'd fire begun;
Their vines a fhadow to their race fhall yield,
And the fame hand that fow'd fhall reap the field.
The swain in barren defarts, with furprize,
Sees lilies fpring, and sudden verdure rife;
And ftarts, ainidft the thirsty wilds, to hear
New falls of water murmuring in his ear.
On rifted rocks, the dragons late abodes,
The green reed trembles, and the balrush nods;
Wafte fandy vallies, once preplex'd with thorn,
The fpiry fir and fhapely box adorn;

To leaflefs fhrubs the flow'ring palm fucceed,
And od rous myrtle to the noifome weed. [mead,
The lambs with wolves fhall graze the verdant
And boys in flow'ry bands the tyger lead;
The fteer and lion at one crib fhall meet,
And harmless ferpents lick the pilgrim's feet;
The finiling infant in his hand fhall take
The crefted bafilifk and fpeckled fnake,

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Pleas'd, the green luftre of their scales furvey,
And with their forky tongue fhall innocently play.
Rife, crown'd with light, imperial Salem, rife!
Exalt thy tow'ry head, and lift thy eyes!
See a long race thy fpacious courts adorn;
See future fons and daughters, yet unborn,
In crowding ranks on ev'ry fide arife,
Demanding life, impatient for the fkies!
See barb'rous nations at thy gates attend,
Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend;
See thy bright altars throng'd with proftrate kings,
And heap'd with products of Sabæan fprings !
For thee Idume's fpicy forests blow,
And feeds of gold in Õphir's mountains glow.
See heav'n its sparkling portals wide display,
And break upon thee in a flood of day.
No more the rifing Sun fhall gild the morn,
Nor ev'ning Cynthia fill her filver horn,
But loft, diffolv'd in thy superior rays,
One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze
O'erflow thy courts: the Light himself thall fhine
Reveal'd, and God's eternal day be thine;
The feas fhall wafte, the skies in fioke decay,
Rocks fall to duft, and mountains melt away,
But fix'd his word, his faving pow'r remains:
Thy realm for ever lafts, thy own Meffiah reigns!

44. An Elegy, written in a Country ChurchYard. GRAY.

THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day,

The lowing herd winds flowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landfcape on the fight, And all the air a folemn ftillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his drony flight, And droufy tinklings lull the diftant folds; Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r,

The moping owl does to the Moon complain Of fuch, as, wand'ring near her fecret bow'r, Moleft her ancient, folitary reign.

Beneath thofe rugged clms, that yew-tree's fhade, Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, [heap,

The rude forefathers of the hamlet fleep. The breezy call ofincenfe-breathing morn, [fhed, The fwallow, twitt'ring from the ftraw-built The cock's fhrill clarion, or the echoing horn,

No more fhall roufe them from their lowly be. For them no more the blazing hearth fhall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care: Nor children run to lifp their fire's return,

Or climb his knees the envied kifs to fhare.

Oft did the harvest to their fickle yield;

Their furrow oft the ftubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their teams afield' How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy

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The boaft of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r,
And all that beauty, all that health e'er gave,
Await, alike, th'inevitable hour;.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Nor you, ye proud, impute to thefe the fault,

If mem'ry o'er their tomb no trophies raife,
Where thro' the long-drawn ile and fretted vault,
The pealing anthem fwells the note of praise.
Can ftoried urn, or animated bust,

Back to its manfion call the fleeting breath!
Can Honour's voice provoke the filent duft,
Or Flatt'ry foothe the dull cold ear of death.
Perhaps, in this neglected spot is laid

Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire:
Hands, that the rod of empire might have fway'd,
Or wak'd to extafy the living lyre.
But knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the fpoils of Time, did ne'er unroll;
Chill Penury exprefs'd their noble rage,

And froze the genial current of the foul.
Full many a gem, of pureft ray ferene,

The dark unfathom'd caves of occan bear;
Full many a flow'r is born to blufh unfeen,

And wafte its fwectnefs on the defart air.
Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields with food;
Some mute inglorious Milton here may reft;
Some Cromwell guiltlefs of his country's blood.
Th'applaufe of lift'ning fenates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to defpife,
To fcatter plenty o'er a fimiling land,

And read their hiftory in a nation's eyes,
Their lot forbade : nor circumfcrib'd alone [fin'd;
Their growing virtues, but their crimes con-
Forbade to wade through flaughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind;
The ftruggling pangs of confcious truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenious shame,
Or heap the thrine of Luxury and Pride

With incenfe kindled at the Mufe's flame. Far from the madding crowd's ignoble ftrife Their fober withes never learn'd to ftray;.. Along the cool fequefter'd vale of life

They kept the noifelefs tenor of their way.
Yet ev'n thefe bones from infult to protect,

Some frail memorial ftill erected nigh,
With uncouth rhimes and thapelefs fcuplture
Implores the paffing tribute of a figh. [deck'd,
Their name, their years, fpelt by th'unletter'd
The place of fame and elegy fupply: mufe,
And many a holy text around the firews,

That teach the ruftic moralift to die.
For who, to dumb forgetfulnefs a prey,
This pleafing anxious being e'er reign'd,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor caft one longing, ling'ring, look behind?
On fome fond breast the parting foul relies,
Some pious drops the clofing eye requires:
E 'n from the tomb the voice of nature cries;
Ev'n in our afhes live their wonted fires.

For thee, who, mindful of th’unhonour'd dead,
Doft in thefe lines their artlefs tale relate;
If, chance, by lonely Contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit fhall inquire thy fate:
Haply fome hoary-headed fwain may say,
"Oft have we feen him, at the peep of dawn,
Brufhing, with hafty steps, the dews away,
To meet the fun upon the upland lawn.
There at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
That writhes its old fantastic roots fo high,
His liftlefs length at noon-tide would he stretch,
And
pore upon the brook that bubbles by.
Hard by yon wood, now fmiling, as in fcoru,
Mutt'ring his wayward fancies, he would rove;
Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,

Or craz'd with care, or crofs'd in hopeless love.
One morn I mifs'd him on the custom'd hill,
Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree:
Another came; nor yet befide the rill,

Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. The next, with dirges due, in fad array, [borne, Slow thro' the church-yard path we saw him Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.”

THE EPITAPH.

Here refts his head upon the lap of earth,

A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown;
Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his foul fincere;
Heav'n did a recompence as largely fend:
He gave to Mis'ry all he had, a tear; [a friend.
He gain'd from Heav'n ('twas all he wifh'd)
No farther feek His merits to difclofe

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,

(There they alike in trembling hope repofe)

The bofom of his Father and his God.

$45. Hymns. By Mrs. BARBAULD.
Quid prius dicam folitis parentis
Laudibus qui res hominum, ac Deum,
Qui mare, ac terras, variifque mundum
Temperat horis ?
HORAT.

HYMN 1.

【EHOVAH reigns: let ev'ry nation hear,
letov ry the holy fear,

Let heav'n's high arches echo with his name,
And the wide peopl'd earth his praile proclaim;
Then fend it down to hell's deep glooms re-
founding,
(ing.
Thro' all her caves in dreadful murmurs found-
He rules with wide and abfolute command
O'er the broad ocean and the stedfatt land;
Jehovah reigns, unbounded, and alone;
And all creation hangs beneath his throne:
He reigns alone; let no inferior nature
Ufurp, or thare the throne of the Creator.
He faw the ftruggling beams of infant light
Shoot thro' the mally gloom of ancient night;

His fpirit hufh'd the elemental ftrife,

And brooded o'er the kindling feeds of life: Seafons and months began the long proceffion, And meafur'd o'er the year in bright fucceffion. The joyful fun fprung up th'ethereal way, Strong as a giant, as a bridegroom gay; And the pale moon diffus'd her thadowy light Superior o'er the dusky brow of night; Ten thousand glitt'ring lamps the skies adorning, Numerous as dew-drops from the womb of morning.

Earth's blooming face with rifing flow'rs he dreft,

And spread a verdant mantle o'er her breast; Then from the hollow of his hand he pours The circling waters round her winding fhores; The new-born world in their cool arms embracing,

And with soft murmurs still her banks careffing.
At length the rofe complete in finifh'd pride,
All fair and fpotlefs, like a virgin bride;
Fresh with untarnish'd luftre as the stood,
Her Maker blefs'd his work, and call'd it good;
The morning-ftars, with joyful acclamation,
Exulting fung, and hail'd the new creation.

Yet this fair world, the creature of a day, Tho built by God's right hand, muft pafs away; And long oblivion creep o'er mortal things, The fate of empires, and the pride of kings: Eternal night fhall veil their proudest story, And drop the curtain o'er all human glory.

The fun himself, with weary clouds oppreft,
Shall in his filent, dark pavilion reft,
His golden urn fhall, broke and ufelefs, lie
Amidit the common ruins of the fky!

The stars rush headlong in the wild commotion,

And bathe their glitt'ring foreheads in the ocean,

For the vine's exalted juice,
For the gen'rous olive's ufe:
Yellow fheaves of ripen'd grain,
Flocks that whiten all the plain,
Clouds that drop their fatt'ning dews,
Suns that temp'rate warmth diffuse:
All that Spring, with bounteous hand,
Scatters o'er the fmiling land:
All that lib'ral Autumn pours
From her rich o'erflowing ftores:
Thefe to thee, my God, we owe;
Source whence all our bleffings flow;
And for thefe, my foul fhall raife
Grateful vows and folemn praife.
Yet fhould rifing whirlwinds tear
From its ftem the rip'ning car;
Should the fig-tree's blafted fhoot
Drop her green untimely fruit;
Should the vine put forth no more,
Nor the olive yield her store;
And the herds defert the stall;
Though the fick'ning flocks fhould fall,

Should thine alter'd hand reftra.n
The early and the latter rain;
And the rifing year destroy;
Blaft each op'ning bud of joy,

Yet to thee my foul fhould raise
Grateful vows and folemn praife;
And, when ev'ry bleffing's flown,
Love thee-for thyself alone.

$47. HY MN III,

For Eafter-Sunday.

But fix'd, O God! for ever ftands thy throne; AGAIN the Lord of Life and Light

Jehovah reigns, a univerfe alone;

Th'eternal fire that feeds each vital flame, Collected or diffus'd, is ftill the faine. He dwells within his own unfathom'd effence, And fills all space with his unbounded prefence. But oh our highest notes the theme debafe, And filence is our leaft injurious praife: [troul, Ceafe, ccafe your fongs, the daring flight conRevere him in the ftilnefs of the foul; With filent duty meckly bend before him, And deep within your inmoft hearts adore him.

§ 46. HY MN II.

PRAISE to God, immortal praise

For the love that crown our days;
Bounteous fource of ev'ry joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employ;
For the bleffings of the field,

For the ftores the gardens yield,

Awakes the kindling ray;
Unfeals the eyelids of the morn,
And pours increasing day.

O what a night was that which wrapt
O what a fun which broke this day,
The heathen world in gloom!
Triumphant from the tomb !
This day be grateful homage paid,
And loud hofannas fung;
Let gladnefs dwell in ev'ry heart,
And praise on ev'ry tongue.
Ten thousand diff'ring lips fhall join
To hail this welcome morn,
Which scatters bleflings from its wings,
To nations yet unborn.

Jefus, the friend of human kind,
With ftrong compaffion mov'd,
Defcended, like a pitying God,
To fave the fouls he lov'd.

Although the fig-tree shall not bloffom, neither shall fruit be in the vines, the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields fhall yield no meat, the flocks shall be cut off from the fold, and there fhall be no herd in the ftalls: yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my falvation. HABAKKUK iii. 17, 18.

The

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The pow'rs of darkness leagu'd in vain

To bind his foul in death;
He shook their kingdom when he fell,
With his expiring breath.

Not long the toils of hell could keep
The hope of Judah's line;
Corruption never could take hold
On aught fo much divine.

And now his conqu'ring chariot wheels
Afcend the lofty fkies;

While broke, beneath his pow'rful cross,
Death's iron fceptre lies.

Exalted high at God's right hand,
And Lord of all below,
Thro' him is pard'ning love difpens'd,
And boundless bleffings flow.
And ftill for erring, guilty man,
A brother's pity flows;
And ftill his bleeding heart is touch'd
With mem'ry of our wocs.

To thee, my Saviour and my King,
Glad homage let me give;
And ftand prepar'd like thee to die,
With thee that I may live.

§ 48. HY M N IV.

BEHOLD where, breathing love divine,
Our dying Mafter stands!
His weeping followers gath'ring round,
Receive his laft commands.

From that mild Teacher's parting lips
What tender accents fell!
The gentle precept which he gave
Became its Author well.

"Blefs'd is the man whofe foft'ning heart "Feels all another's pain; "To whom the fupplicating eye "Was never rais'd in vain: "Whose breast expands with gen'rous warmth "A ftranger's woes to feel; "And bleeds in pity o'er the wound "He wants the pow'r to heal. "He fpreads his kind fupporting arms "To ev'ry child of grief; "His fecret bounty largely flows, "And brings unask'd relief. "To gentle offices of love

"His feet are never flow;

"He views, thro' mercy's melting cyc,
"A brother in a foc.

"Peace from the bofom of his God.
"My peace to him I give;
"And when he kneels before the throne,
"His trembling foul fhall live.
"To him protection fhall be fhewn ;
"And mercy from above
"Defcend on those who thus fulfil
"The perfect law of love."

$49. HY MN V. AWAKE, my foul! lift up thine eyes, See where thy foes against thee rife, In long array, a num'rous hoft; Awake my foul, or thou art loft. Here giant danger threat'ning ftands, Muft'ring his pale terrific bands; There pleasure's filken banners fpread, And willing fouls are captive led. See where rebellious paffions rage, And fierce defires and lufts engage; The meaneft foe of all the train Has thousands and ten thousands flain. Thou tread'ft upon enchanted ground, * Perils and fnares befet thee round; Beware of all, guard ev'ry part, But most, the traitor in thy heart. Come then, my foul, now learn to wield The weight of thine immortal fhield; Put on the armour from above Of heav'nly truth and heav'nly love. The terror and the charm repel, And pow'rs of earth, and pow'rs of hell: The Man of Calvary triumph'd here; Why should his faithful followers fear?

§ 50. An Address to the Deity.

Mrs. BARBAULE, Deus eft quodcunque vides, quocunque moveris. LUCAN,

G

OD of my life! and Author of my days!
Permit my feeble voice to lifp thy praise ;
And, trembling, take upon a mortal tongue
That hallow'd name to harps of Seraphs fung
Yet here the brightest Seraphs could no more
Than hide their faces, tremble, and adore.
Worms, angels, men, in ev'ry diff'rent fphere
Are cqual all; for all are nothing here.
All nature faints beneath the mighty name
Which Nature's works, thro' all her parts, pro▾
claim.

I feel that name my inmoft thoughts controul,
And breathe an awful ftillnefs thro' my foul;
As by a charm the waves of grief fubfide,
Impetuous pailion ftops her headlong tide:
At thy felt prefence all emotions cease,
And my hush'd fpirit finds a fudden peace,
Till ev'ry worldly thought within me dies,
And earth's gay pageants vanish from my cyes
Till all my fenfe is loft in infinite,
And one vaft object fills my aching fight.

But foon, alas! this holy calm is broke;
My foul fubmits to wear her wonted yoke;
With fhackled pinions ftrives to foar in vain,
And mingles with the drofs of earth again.
But he, our gracious Master, kind as just,
Knowing our frame, remembers man is duft.
His fpirit, ever brooding o'er our mind,
Sees the first wish to better hopes inclin'd;
Marks the young dawn of ev'ry virtuous aim,
And fans the smoking flax into a flame.

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