He looks with anger, and the nations fly
From the fierce sparklings of his dreadful eye;
He turns, the mountain shakes its awful brow;
Awful he turns, and hills eternal bow.
How glory there, how terror here, displays
His great unknown, yet everlasting ways!
I see the fable tents along the ftrand
Where Cufhan wander'd, defolately stand;
And Midian's high pavilions shake with dread,
While the tam'd seas thy rescued nation tread.
What burst the path? what made the Lord engage?
Could waters anger, feas incite thy rage,
That thus thine horses force the foaming tide,
And all the chariots of falvation ride?

Thy bow was bare for what thy mercy swore;
Those oaths, that promise, Israel had before.

The rock that felt thee cleav'd, the rivers flow,
The wondering desert lends them beds below.
Thy might the mountain's heaving shocks confefs'd,
High fhatter'd Horeb trembled o'er the rest.
Great Jordan pass'd its nether waters by,
Its upper waters rais'd the voice on high :
Safe in the deep we went, the liquid wall
Curling arofe, and had no leave to fall.
The fun effulgent, and the moon ferene,
Stopt by thy will, their heavenly course refrain:
The voice was man's, yet both the voice obey,
Till wars completed close the lengthen'd day.
Thy glittering fpears, thy rattling darts prevail,
Thy fpears of lightning, and thy darts of hail.

'Twas thou that march'd against their heathen band, Rage in thy vifage, and thy flail in hand;

'Twas thou that went before to wound their head,
The captain follow'd where the Saviour led :
Torn from their earth, they feel the defperate wound,
And power unfounded fails for want of ground.
With village-war thy tribes, where'er they go,
Diftrefs the remnant of the scatter'd foe;
Yet mad they rufh'd, as whirling wind defcends,
And deem'd for friendlefs thofe the Lord befriends.
Thy trampling horse from sea to fea subdue,
The bounding ocean left no more to do.

O, when I heard what thou vouchfaf'ft to win, With works of wonder must be loft for fin;

I quak'd through fear, the voice forfook my tongue,
Or, at my lips, with quivering accent hung;
Dry leanness entering to my marrow came,
And every loofening nerve unftrung my frame.
How fhall I reft, in what protecting fhade,
When the day comes, and hoftile troops invade ?
Though neither bloffoms on the fig appear,
Nor vines with clusters deck the purpling year;
Though all our labours olive-trees belie,
Though fields the substance of the bread deny;
Though flocks are fever'd from the filent fold,
And the rais'd stalls no lowing cattle hold;
Yet fhall my foul be glad, in God rejoice,
Yet to my Saviour will I lift my voice;
Yet to my Saviour fill my temper fings,
What David fet to inftruments of ftrings:

The Lord's my ftrength, like hinds he makes my feet,
Yon mount's my refuge, I as fafely fleet;
Or (if the fong's apply'd) he makes me still
Expect returning to Moriah's hill.

In all this hymn what daring grandeur fhines,
What darting glory rays among the lines:

What mountains, earthquakes, clouds, and fmokes are
What ambient fires conceal the Lord within ; [feen,
What working wonders give the promis'd place,
And load the conduct of a ftubborn race!
In all the work a lively fancy flows,
O'er all the work fincere affection glows:
While truth's firm rein the course of fancy guides,
And o'er affection zeal divine prefides.

Borne on the prophet's wings, methinks I fly
Amongst eternal Attributes on high:
And here I touch at Love fupremely fair,
And now at Power, anon at Mercy there;
So, like a warbling bird, my tunes I raise,
On those green boughs the Tree of Life displays;
Whose twelve fair fruits, each month by turns receives,
And, for the nations' healing, ope their leaves.
Then be the nations heal'd, for this I fing,
Defcending foftly from the prophet's wing.

Thou, world, attend the case of Ifrael; fee
'T will thus at large refer to God and thee,
If Love be fhewn thee, turn thine eyes above,
And pay the duties relative to Love;
If Power be shewn, and wonderfully so,
Wonder and thank, adore, and bow below.

If Power that led thee, now no longer lead,
But brow-bent Juftice draws the flaming blade;
When Love is fcorn'd, when fin the fword provokes,
Let tears and prayers avert, or heal the strokes;
If Justice leaves to wound, and thou to groan,
Beneath new lords, in countries not thine own,
Know this for Mercy's act, and let your lays,
Grateful in all, recount the cause of praise :
Then Love returns, and while no fins divide
The firm alliance, power will fhield thy fide.

See the grand round of Providence's care,
See realms affifted here, and punish'd there;
O'er the juft circle caft thy wondering eyes,
Thank while you gaze, and study to be wife.

HYMN FOR MORNING.

SEE the ftar that leads the day,
Rifing, fhoots a golden ray,

To make the shades of darkness go
From heaven above and earth below;
And warn us early with the fight,
To leave the beds of filent night;
From an heart fincere and found,
From its very deepest ground;
Send devotion up on high,

Wing'd with heat to reach the sky.

See the time for fleep has run,
Rife before, or with the fun :
Lift thy hands, and humbly pray,
The fountain of eternal day;
That, as the light ferenely fair,
Illuftrates all the tracts of air;
The Sacred Spirit fo may rest,
With quickening beams, upon thy breaft;
And kindly clean it all within,
From darker blemishes of fin;

And shine with grace until we view
The realm it gilds with glory too.
See the day that dawns in air,
Brings along its toil and care:
From the lap of night it springs,
With heaps of business on its wings;
Prepare to meet them in a mind,
That bows fubmiffively refign'd;
That would to works appointed fall,
That knows that God has order'd all.
And whether, with a small repast,
We break the fober morning faft;
Or in our thoughts and houses lay
The future methods of the day;
Or early walk abroad to meet
Our bufinefs, with induftrious feet:
Whate'er we think, whate'er we do,
His glory ftill be kept in view.
O, giver of eternal bliss,
Heavenly Father, grant me this;