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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 exiftence; 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 let me live to Thee!
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 fimiling 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 courfe, both when thou climb'ft,
And when high noon has gain'd, and when thou
Moon, that now meet'ft the orient fun, now fly'ft
With the fix'd ftars, fix'd in their orb that flies,
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 ccafelefs change
Vary to our great Maker ftill new praise.
Ye Mifts and Exhalations that now rife
From hill or ftreaming lake, dufky 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 fky,
Or wet the thirsty 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 worthip wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow
Melodious murmurs, warbling, tune his praise.
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 praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and ftately tread, or lowly creep;
Witnefs if I be filent, morn or even,
To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade
Made vocal by my fong, 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.
§ 4. The Univerfal Prayer. POPE. Deo opt. max.
FATHER 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 fense confin'd
To know but this, that Thou art good,
And that myself 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 fpan
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 woe;
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 wherefoc'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, whofe temple is all space;
Whofe altar, earth, fea, fkies!
One chorus let all being raise !
All nature's incenfe rife!
$5. Hymn on Gratitude. ADDISON.
WHEN all thy mercies, O my God,
My rifing foul furveys;
Transported 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 ear,
Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt
To form themfelves 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 fteps I ran,
Thine arm unfeen convey'd me safe,
And led me up to man.
Thro' hidden dangers, toils, and deaths,
It gently clear'd my way,
And through the pleasing snares 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 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 taites 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 thall adore.
Through all eternity to Thee
A joyful fong I'll raife;
For OEternity's too fhort
To utter all thy praife!
§ 6. Hymn on Providence, from Pfalm 23d. ADDISON.
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 still; 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 stray, Thy bounty fhall my pains beguile : The barren wilderness fhall finile, With fudden greens and herbage crown'd; And ftreams fhall murmur all around.
$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 publifhe's to ev'ry land
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 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 short of thee:
How distant then must human praise
From thy perfections be!
Yet how, my God, fhall I refrain,
When to my ravish'd sense
Each creature, everywhere around,
Difplays thy excellence!
The active lights that fhine above,
In their eternal dance,
Reveal their skilful Maker's praife
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 display'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;
In mutual concourfe rife :
Crop the gay rofes vermeil bloom, And waft its fpoils, a fwect perfume,
In incenfe to the skies.
Wake all ye mounting tribes, and fing;
Ye plumy warblers of the spring,
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 paffions fway'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 praife th'eternal Source of love,
With youth's enlivening fire:
Let age take up the tuneful lay,
Sigh his blefs'd name-then foar away,
And ask an angel's lyre.
$11. Hymn. ANON.
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 plcafe;
The hoary Alpine hills it warm'd,
And finooth'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.