Its notions ancient Memory reviews,

And young Invention new designs pursues.
To fome attempt my will and wishes press,
And pleasure, rais'd in hope, forebodes fuccefs.
My God, from whom proceed the gifts divine,
My God! I think I feel the gift is thine.
Be this no vain illufion which I find,
Nor nature's impulfe on the paffive mind,
But reafon's act, produc'd by good defire,
By grace enliven'd with Celestial Fire;
While bafe conceits, like mifty fons of night,
Before fuch beams of glory take their flight,
And frail affections, born of earth, decay,
Like weeds that wither in the warmer ray.

I thank thee, Father! with a grateful mind:
Man's undeferving, and thy Mercy kind.
I now perceive, I long to fing thy praise,
I now perceive, I long to find my lays
The sweet incentives of another's love,
And fure fuch longings have their rise above.
My refolution ftands confirm'd within,
My lines afpiring eagerly begin;

Begin, my lines, to such a subject due,
That aids our labours, and rewards them too!
Begin, while Canaan opens to mine eyes,
Where fouls and fongs, divinely form'd, arise.
As one whom o'er the sweetly-vary'd meads
Intire recefs and lonely pleasure leads,

To verdur'd banks, to paths adorn'd with flowers, To fhady trees, to closely-waving bowers,

To bubbling fountains, and afide the ftream
That foftly gliding fooths a waking dream,
Or bears the thought inspir'd with heat along,
And with fair images improves a song ;
Through facred anthems, fo may fancy range,
So ftill from beauty, ftill to beauty change,
To feel delights in all the radiant way,
And, with fweet numbers, what it feels repay.
For this I call that ancient Time appear,
And bring his rolls to serve in method here;
His rolls which acts, that endless honour claim,
Have rank'd in order for the voice of fame.

My call is favour'd: Time from first to laft
Unwinds his years, the present fees the past ;
I view their circles as he turns them o'er,
And fix my footsteps where he went before.
The page unfolding would a top disclose,
Where founds melodious in their birth arose.
Where first the Morning-stars together fung,
Where first their harps the Sons of Glory ftrung,
With fhouts of joy while Hallelujahs rife
To prove the chorus of eternal skies.

Rich fparkling ftrokes the letters doubly gild,
And all's with love and admiration fill'd.

TO grace thofe lines, which next appear to fight,

The pencil fhone, with more abated light;
Yet ftill the pencil fhone, the lines were fair,

And awful Mofes ftands recorded there;

Let his, replete with flames and praise divine,
Let his, the first-remember'd fong be mine,
Then rife my thought, and in thy prophet find
What joy should warm thee, for the work defign'd.
To that great act, which rais'd his heart, repair,
And find a portion of his spirit there.

A Nation helpless and unarm'd I view,
Whom ftrong revengeful troops of war pursue,
Seas ftop their flight, their camp muft prove their grave,
Ah! what can fave them? God alone can save.
God's wondrous voice proclaims his high command,
He bids their leader wave the facred wand,
And where the billows flow'd, they flow no more,
A road lies naked, and they march it o'er.
Safe may the fons of Jacob travel through,
But why will hard'ned Egypt venture too?
Vain in thy rage, to think thofe waters flee
And rife like walls, on either hand, for thee.
The night comes on, the season for surprize,
Yet fear not, Ifrael, God directs thine eyes.
A fiery cloud I fee thine angel ride,
His chariot is thy light, and he thy guide.
The day comes on, and half thy fuccours fail,
Yet fear not, Ifrael, God will ftfil prevail.
I fee thine angel from before thee go,
To make the wheels of venturous Egypt flow,
His rolling cloud inwraps its beams of light,
And what supply'd thy day, prolongs their night.
At length the dangers of the deep are run,
The further brink is past, the bank is won;

The leader turns to view the foes behind,
Then waves his folemn wand within the wind,
Oh Nation freed by wonders, cease thy fear,
And ftand, and see the Lord's Salvation here.
Ye tempefts, now, from every corner fly,
And wildly rage in all my fancied sky,
Roll on, ye waters, as they roll'd before,
Ye billows of my fancied ocean, roar;

Dafh high, ride foaming, mingle, all the main,
'Tis done, and Pharaoh can't afflict again.

The work, the wondrous work of freedom's done,
The winds abate, the clouds restore the fun,
The wreck appears, the threatening army drown'd
Floats o'er the waves, to ftrew the fandy ground,
Then place thy Mofes near the calming flood,
Majestically mild, ferenely good;
Let meeknefs, lovely virtue, gently stream
Around his vifage, like a lambent flame;
Let grateful fentiments, let fenfe of love,
Let holy zeal, within his bofom move;
And while his people gaze the watery plain,
And fear's laft touches like to doubts remain;
While bright aftonishment, that feems to raise
A queftioning belief, is fond to praise;
Be thus the rapture in the prophet's breast,
Be thus the thanks for freedom gain'd exprefs'd:
I'll fing to God, I'll fing the fongs of praife,
To God, triumphant in his wondrous ways,
To God, whofe glories in the feas excel,
Where the proud horfe and prouder rider fell.

The Lord, in mercy kind, in justice strong,

Is now my strength; this ftrength be now my song.
This fure falvation fuch he proves to me,

From danger rescued, and from bondage free;
The Lord's my God, and I'll prepare his seat,
My father's God, and I'll proclaim him great;
Him Lord of battles, Him renown'd in Name,
Him ever-faithful, evermore the fame.
His gracious aids avenge his people's thrall,
They make the pride of boasting Pharaoh fall.
Within the feas his ftately chariots lie,
Within the feas his chosen captains die.

The rolling deeps have cover'd o'er the foe,
They funk like ftones, they swiftly funk below:
Thine hand, my God! thine hand confefs'd thy care,
Thine hand was glorious in thy power there,
It broke their troops, unequal for the fight,
In all the greatness of excelling might :

Thy wrath fent forward o'er the raging ftream,
Swift, fure, and fudden, their destruction came.
They fell as ftubble burns, while driving skies
Provoke and whirl a flame, and ruin flies.
When blafts, dispatch'd with wonderful intent,
On fovereign orders from thy noftrils went,
For our accounts, the waters were afraid,
Perceiv'd thy Prefence, and together fled;
In heaps uprightly plac'd, they learn to stand,
Like banks of cryftal, by the paths of fand.
Then, fondly flufh'd with hope, and fwell'd with pride,
And fill'd with rage, the foe profanely cry'd,