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From his blood, by horror chill'd, A cold and agonizing fweat diftill'd: Then, foaming with unutterable smart, He aim'd a dagger at his heart.

His watchful train prevent the blow;

And call each lenient balm, to footh his frantic woe:
But pleas'd, the fhepherd now beheld
His pride by heav'n's own terrors quell'd;
Then bade his potent lyre controul

The mighty ftorm that rent his foul.

Cease your cares: the body's pain
A fweet relief may find:

But

gums and lenient balms are vain
To heal the wounded mind.

Come, fair Repentance, from the skies,
O fainted maid, with upcaft eyes!
Defcend in thy celestial fhrowd,
Vested in a weeping cloud!
Holy guide, defcend, and bring
Mercy from th' eternal king!
To his foul your beams impart,

And whisper comfort to his heart!

They come: O king, thine ear incline:
Liften to their voice divine:

Their voice fhall ev'ry pang compose,
To gentle forrow footh thy woes;
Till each pure wish to heav'n fhall foar,

And peace return, to part no more!

Behold,

Behold, obedient to their great command,
The lifted dagger quits his trembling hand:
Smooth'd is his brow, where fullen care
And furrow'd horror couch'd with fell despair:
No more his eyes with fury glow;
But heav'nly grief fucceeds to hell-born woe.
See, the figns of grace appear:

See the foft relenting tear
Trickling at fweet mercy's call!
Catch it, angels, ere it fall!
And let the heart-fent offering rife,
Heav'n's beft-accepted facrifice!-

Yet, yet again?-Ah fee, the pang returns;
Again with inward fire his heaving bofom burns!
Now, shepherd, wake a mightier strain ;
Search the deep, heart-rending pain;
Till the large floods of forrow roll,.
And quench the tortures of his foul.
Almighty Lord, accept his pang fincere!
Let heav'nly hope difpel each dark temptation
And, while he pours the penitential tear,
O visit him with thy falvation!—

Stoop from heav'n, ye raptur'd throng
Sink, ye fwelling tides of fong!

For lo diffolv'd by mufic's melting pow'r,
Celestial forrow rolls her plenteous fhow'r.
O'er his wan cheek the colours rife,

And beams of comfort brighten in his eyes.

Happy

Happy king, thy woes are o'er!

Thy God fhall wound thy foul no more :
The pitying Father of mankind

Meets the pure-returning mind.
Now lowly let the ruftic measure glide

To quell the dark remains of felf-confuming pride;
Till nature's home-fprung bleffings he confefs,
And own that calm content is happiness.-
Ye woods and lakes, ye cliffs and mountains,
Haunted grots, and living fountains!
Liften to your shepherd's lay,

Whofe artless carols close the day.
Bounding kids around him throng;
The steep rock echoes back his fong:
While all unfeen to mortal eye,
Sliding down the evening sky,
Holy peace, tho' born above,
Daughter of innocence and love,
Quits her throne and manfion bright,
Her crown of stars and robe of light,
Serene, in gentle fmiles array'd,
To dwell beneath his palm-tree shade.
Hail, meek angel! awful gueft!
Still pour thy radiance o'er my breast!
Pride and hate in courts may shine :

The fhepherd's calm and blameless tent is thine!

Softly, foftly breath your numbers;

And wrap his weary'd foul in flumbers!

Gentle fleep, becalm his breaft,

And clofe his eyes in healing reft!

Defcend

Descend, celeitial visions, ye who waits
God's ministring pow'rs, at heav'n's eternal gate!

Ye, who nightly vigils keep,
And rule the filent realms of sleep,
Exalt the just to joys refin'd,
And plunge in wce the guilty mind,
Descend !-Oh, wast him to the skies,

And open all heav'n's glories to his eyes!
Beyond yon farry roof, by seraphs trod,

Where light's unclouded fountains blaze ;

Where choirs immortal hymn their God,
Intranc'd in ecstasy of ceaseless praise.

Angels, heal his anguilt!
Your harps and voices join!
His grief to blifs shall languish;
When sooth'd by founds divine.

Behold, with dawning joy each feature glows !

See, the blissful tear o'erflows !-
The fiend is filed !-Let music's rapture rise :
Now harmony, thy ev'ry nerve employ:

Shake the dome, and pierce the kies :
Wake him, wake him into joy.

What pow'r can ev'ry passion's throé controul ?

What pow'r can boast the charm divine

To still the tempest of the soul ?
Celestial harmony, that mighty charm is thine!
She, heav'nly-born, came down to visit earth,

When from God's eternal throne
The beam of all-creative wisdom fhone,
And Spake fair order into birth.

T

At wisdom's call fhe robed yon glitt'ring fkies,'
Attun'd the spheres, and taught confenting orbs to rife,
Angels wrapt in wonder flood,

And faw that all was fair, and all was good.
"Twas then, ye fons of God, in bright array
Ye fhouted o'er creation's day:

Then kindling into joy,

The morning ftars together fung;

And thro' the vast etherial sky

Seraphic hymns and loud hofannahs rung.

ODE TO THE GENIUS OF SHAKESPEARE.

BY JOHN OGILVIE, M. A.

I. r.

APT from the glance of mortal eye,

RA

Say, burfts thy genius to the world of light?

Seeks it yon ftar-bespangled sky?

Or fkims it's fields with rapid flight?

Or mid' yon plains where fancy ftrays,
Courts it the balmy-breathing gale è
Or where the violet pale

Droops o'er the green-embroider'd ftream?

Or where young zephyr ftirs the rustling sprays,
Lies all diffolv'd in fairy dream?

3.

O'er

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