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CHARITY.

When in the night I sleepless lie,
My soul with heav'nly thoughts supply;
Let no ill dreams disturb my rest,
No pow'rs of darkness me molest.
Dull sleep!-of sense me to deprive;
I am but half my time alive;
Thy faithful lovers, Lord, are griev❜d,
To lie so long of thee bereav'd.

But though sleep o'er my frailty reigns,
Let it not hold me long in chains;
And now and then let loose my heart,
Till it an hallelujah dart.

The faster sleep the senses binds,
The more unfettered are our minds;
Oh, may my soul from matter free,
Thy loveliness unclouded see!

Oh, when shall I, in endless day,
For ever chase dark sleep away;
And hymns with the supernal choir
Incessant sing, and never tire?

Oh, may my guardian while I sleep,
Close to my bed his vigils keep
His love angelical instil,

Stop all the avenues of ill.

MATTHEW PRIOR.

BORN, 1664; DIED, 1721.

CHARITY.

1 Cor. xiii.

DID Sweeter sounds adorn my flowing tongue
Than ever man pronounc'd, or angels sung;
Had I all knowledge, human and divine,
That thought can reach, or science can define!

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And had I power to give that knowledge birth
In all the speeches of the babbling earth;
Did Shadrach's zeal my glowing breast inspire
To weary tortures and rejoice in fire;

Or had I faith like that which Israel saw
When Moses gave them miracles and law.
Yet, gracious Charity! indulgent guest,
Were not thy power exerted in my breast,
Those speeches would send up unheeded prayer,
That scorn of life would be but wild despair;
A cymbal's sound were better than
my voice-
My faith were form, my eloquence were noise.

Charity! decent, modest, easy kind,

Softens the high, and rears the abject mind;
Knows with just reins, and gentle hand to guide,
Betwixt vile shame and arbitrary pride.
Not soon provoked, she easily forgives,
And much she suffers as she much believes.
Soft peace she brings wherever she arrives;
She builds our quiet as she forms our lives:
Lays the rough path of peevish nature even,
And opens in our heart a little heav'n.

Each other gift, which God on man bestows,
Its proper bounds and due restriction knows :
To one fixed purpose dedicates its power,
And finishing its act exists no more.
Thus, in obedience to what heaven decrees,
Knowledge shall fail and prophecy shall cease ;
But lasting Charity's more ample sway,
Nor bound by time nor subject to decay,

In happy triumph shall for ever live,

And endless good diffuse and endless praise receive. As through the artist's intervening glass

Our eye observes the distant planets pass,

A little we discover, but allow

That more remains unseen than art can show:

So, whilst our mind its knowledge would improve, (Its feeble eye intent on things above)

REVIEW OF LIFE CROWNED WITH MERCIES. 45

High as we may, we lift our reason up,
By faith directed, and confirmed by hope;
Yet are we able only to survey

Dawning of beams and promises of day;

Heaven's fuller effluence mocks our dazzled sight,
Too great its swiftness, and too strong its light.
But soon the mediate clouds shall be dispelled:
The sun shall soon be face to face beheld,
In all his robes, with all his glory on,

Seated sublime on his meridian throne.

The constant Faith and holy Hope shall die,
One lost in certainty, and one in joy.
Whilst thou, more happy power, fair Charity!
Triumphant sister, greatest of the three,
Thy office and thy nature still the same,
Lasting thy lamp, and unconsumed thy flame,
Shalt still survive—

Shalt stand before the host of heaven confess'd,
For ever blessing and for ever bless'd.

JOSEPH ADDISON.

BORN, 1672; DIED, 1719.

REVIEW OF LIFE CROWNED WITH MERCIES.

WHEN all thy mercies, O my God,

My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.

Oh, how shall words with equal warmth

The gratitude declare,

That glows within my ravish'd heart!

But Thou canst read it there.

Thy providence my life sustain'd,
And all my wants redress'd,
When in the silent 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 learn'd
To form themselves in prayer.

Unnumber'd comforts to my soul,
Thy tender care bestow'd;
Before my infant heart conceiv'd
From whom those comforts flow'd.

When in the slippery paths of youth,
With heedless steps I ran,

Thine arm unseen conveyed me safe,
And led me up to man.

Through 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 sickness, oft hast Thou
With health renew'd my face;
And when in sins and sorrows sunk,
Revived my soul with grace.

Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss,

Hath made my cup run o'er; And in a kind and faithful friend, Hath doubled all my store.

Ten thousand thousand precious gifts,

My daily thanks employ;

Nor is the least a cheerful heart,

That tastes those gifts with joy.

THE GOODNESS OF PROVIDENCE.

Through every period of my life,

Thy goodness I'll pursue;

And after death, in distant 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 shall adore.

Through all eternity to Thee
A joyful song I'll raise;
For, oh, eternity's too short
To utter all thy praise.

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THE GOODNESS OF PROVIDENCE.

THE Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care;
His presence shall my wants supply,
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noon-day walks He shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.

When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountains pant,
To fertile vales and dewy meads,
My weary wand'ring steps He leads,
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow
Amid the verdant landscape flow.

Though in the paths of death I tread
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart shall fear no ill;
For thou, O Lord, art with me still:
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.

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