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But Reuben's strange divisións justly wrought
Amongst his brethren deep concern of thought.
Ah! while the nation in affliction lay,

How could't thou, Reuben, by the fleepfolds ftay,
And let thy bleating flock divert thy days
That idly pafs'd thee with inglorious ease?
Divided tribe, without thy dangers free,
Deep were the fearchings of our heart for thee.
Our Gilead too, by fuch example sway'd,
With unconcern beyond the river ftay'd,
And Dan in fhips at fea for fafety rode,
And frighten'd Afher in its rock's abode.

Now fing the field, the feats of war begun,
And praife thy Napthali with Zebulun,
To deaths expos'd, in pofts advanc'd they stood
With fouls refolv'd, and gallant rage of blood.
Then came the kings and fought, the gather'd
kings

By waters ftreaming from Megiddo's fprings;
In Taanach vale fuftain'd the daring toil,

Yet neither fought for pay, nor won the fpoil.
The skies, indulgent in the caufe of right,
On lfrael's fide, against their army fight,
In evil afpects, ftars and planets range,
And by the weather in tempeftuous change
Promote the dire diftrefs, and make it known
That God has hofts above to fave his own.
The Kifhon fwell'd, grew rapid as they fted,
And roll'd them finking down its fandy bed.
O river Kifhon, river of renown!

And, O my foul, that trod their glory down!
The ftony paths, by which disorder'd flight
Convey'd their troops and chariots from the fight,
With rugged points their horses hoofs diftrefs'd,
And broke them prancing in impetuous hafte.
Curfe, curfe ye Meroz, curfe the town abhorr'd,
(So fpake the glorious angel of the Lord)
För Meroz came not in the field prepar'd,
To join that fide on which the Lord declar'd.
But blefs ye Jael, be the Kenite's name
Above ont women's blefs'd in endless fame.
The captain, faint with fore fatigue of flight,
Implor'd for water to fupport his might,
And milk the pour'd him, while he water fought,
And in her lordly dish her butter brought.
With courage well-deferving to prevail,
One hand the hammer held, and one the nail,
And him, reclin'd to sleep, she boldly flew,

She fmote, the pierc'd, the ftruck the temples
through.

Before her feet, reluctant on the clay,

He bow'd, he fell; he bow'd, he fell, he lay;
He bow'd, he fell, he dy'd. By fuch degrees
As thrice the ftruck, each ftroke's effect the fees.
His mother gaz'd with long-expecting eyes;
And, grown impatient, through the lattice cries,
Why moves the chariot of my fon fo flow?
Or what affairs retard his coming fo?
Her ladies answer'd-but flie would not stay,
(For pride had taught what flattery meant to fay)
'They've fped, fhe fays, and now the prey they
fhare,

For each a damfel, or a lovely pair,
For Sifera's part a robe of gallant grace,
Where diverfe colours rich embroidery trace,

Meet for the necks of those who win the fpol
When triumph offers its reward for toil.

Thus perifh all whom God's decrees oppose,
Thus, like the vanquish'd, perish all thy foes;
But let the men that in thy name delight
Be like the fun in heavenly glory bright,
When mounted on the dawn he posts away,
And with full ftrength encreases on the day.

'Twas here the prophetess refpir'd from fong,
Then loudly fhouted all the cheerful throng,
By freedom gain'd, by victory complete,
Prepar'd for mirth irregularly great.
The frowns of forrow gave their ancient place
To pleasure, drawn in fmiles of every face.
The groans of flavery were no longer wrung,
But thoughts of comfort from the bleffing sprung.
And as they fhouted from the breezy west,
Amongst the plumes that deck the singer's crest,
The fpirit of applause itself convey'd

On wafted air, and lightly waving play'd:
Such was the cafe (or fuch ideas flow
From thought replenish'd with triumphant show).
What rais'd their joy their love could alfo raise,
And each contended in the words of praife,
And every word proclaim'd the wonders paft,
And God was still the first, and still the last;
Deep in their fouls the fair impreffion lay,
Deep trac'd, and never to be worn away.

From hence the refcued generation still
Abhoir'd the practice of rebellious ill,
And fear'd the punishment for ill abhorr'd,
And lov'd repentance, and ador'd the Lord.

From hence in all their days the Lord was kind,
His face ferene with fettled favour shin'd,
Fair banifh'd Order was recall'd in state,
The laws reviv'd, the princes rul'd the gate,
Peace cheer'd the vales, Contentment laugh'd with
Peace,

Gay blooming Plenty rofe with large increase,
Sweet Mercy thofe who thought on mercy blest,
And fo for forty years the land had rest.

Reft, happy land, a while; ah longer fo,
Didst thou thine happinefs fincerely know!
But foon thy quiet with thy goodness past,
And in the fong alone obtain'd to laft.

Live, fong triumphant, live in fair record,
And teach fucceeding times to fear the Lord;
For fancy moves by bright example woo'd,
And wins the mind with images of good.
Touch'd with a facred rage and heavenly flame,
I ftrive to fing thine univerfal ain,
To quit the fubject, and in lays fublime,
The moral fit for any point of time.
Then go, my verfes, with applying ftrain,
Go form a triumph not afcrib'd to men.

Let all the clouds of grief impending lie,
And storms of trouble drive along the sky,
Then humbled Piety thine accents raife,
For

prayer will prove the powerful charm of ease.
Lo, now my foul has fpoke its beft defires,
How bleffings anfwer what the prayer requires!
Before thy fighs the clouds of grief retreat,
The forms of trouble by thy tears abate,
And radiant glory, from her upper fphere,
Looks down and glitters in relented air.

Rife, lovely Piety, from earthy bed,
The parted flame defcends upon thine head,
This wondrous mitre, fram'd by facred love,
And for thy triumph fent thee from above,
In two bright points with upper rays afpires,
And rounds thy temples with innocuous fires.
Rife, lovely Piety, with pomp appear,

And thou, kind Mercy, lend thy chariot here;
On either fide, fair Fame and Honour place,
Behind let Plenty walk in hand with Peace;
While Irreligion, muttering horrid found,
With fierce and proud Oppreffion backward bound,
Drag by the wheels along the dusty plain,
And gnashing lick the ground, and curse with pain.
Now come, ye thousands, and more thousands
yet,

With order join to fill the train of state,
Souls tun'd for praising to the temple bring,
And thus amidft the facred mufic fing:
Hail, Piety! triumphant goodness, hail !
Hail, O prevailing, ever O prevail !
At thine entreaty, Juftice leaves to frown,
And wrath appeafing lays the thunder down;
The tender heart of yearning Mercy burns,
Love afks a bleffing, and the Lord returns.

In his great name that heaven and earth has made,
In his great name alone we find our aid;
Then blefs the Name, and let the world adore,
From this time forward, and for evermore.

HANNA H.

Now crowds move off, retiring trumpets found,
On echoes dying in their last rebound;
The notes of fancy feem no longer strong,
But fweetening clofes fit a private fong.

So when the storms forfake the fea's command,
To break their forces in the winding land,
No more their blasts tumultuous rage proclaim,
But fweep in murmurs o'er a murmuring stream.
Then seek the subject, and its fung be mine,
Whofe numbers, mixt in facred story, shine:
Go, brightly working thought, prepar'd to fly,
Above the page on hovering pinions lie,
And beat with stronger force, to make thee rife
Where beauteous Hannah meets the fearching eyes.
There frame a town, and fix a tent with cords,
The town be Shiloh call'd, the tent the Lord's.
Carv'd pillars, filletted with filver, rear,
To clofe the curtains in an outward square,
But thofe within it, which the porch uphold,
Be finely wrought, and overlaid with gold.

Here Eli comes to take the refting feat,
Slow moving forward with a reverend gait :
Sacred in office, venerably sage,
And venerably great in filver'd age.
Here Hannah comes, a melancholy wife,
Reproach'd for barren in the marriage life;
Like fummer mornings the to fight appears,
Bedew'd and flining in the midft of tears.
Her heart in bitterness of grief fhe bow'd,
And thus her wishes to the Lord fhe vow'd:
If thou thine handmaid with compaffion fee,
11, my God! am not forgot by thee;

If in mine offspring thou prolong my line,
The child I wish for all his days be thine;
His life devoted, in thy courts be led,
And not a razor come upon his head.

So, from receffes of her inmoft foul,
Through moving lips her ftill devotion ftole:
As filent waters glide through parted trees,
Whose branches tremble with a rifing breeze.
The words were loft because her heart was low,
But free defire had taught the mouth to go;
This Eli mark'd, and, with a voice fevere,
While yet fhe multiply'd her thoughts in prayer,
How long fhall wine, he cries, distract thy breast?
Be gone, and lay the drunken fit by rest.

Ah! fays the mourner, count not this for fin,
It is not wine, but grief, that works within;
The fpirit of thy wretched handmaid know,
Her prayer's complaint, and her condition woe.
Then fpake the facred priest, in peace depart,
And with thy comfort God fulfil thine heart!
His blefling thus pronounc'd with awful found,
The votary bending leaves the folemn ground,
She feems confirm'd the Lord has heard her cries,
And cheerful hope the tears of trouble dries,
And makes her alter'd eyes irradiate roll,
With joy that dawns in thought upon the foul.

Now let the town, and tent, and court remain,
And leap the time till Hannah comes again.
As painted profpects fkip along the green,
From hills to mountains eminently seen,
And leave their intervals that fink below,
In deep retreat, and unexprefs'd to fhow.

Behold! fhe comes (but not as once fhe came, To grieve, to figh, and teach her eyes to stream); Content adorns her with a lively face,

An open look, and smiling kind of grace;
Her little Samuel in her arms the bears,
The wish of long defire, and child of prayers;
And as the facrifice fhe brought begun,
To reverend Eli fhe prefents her fon.
Here, crics the mother, here my Lord may fee
The woman come, who pray'd in grief by thee:
The child I fued for, God in bounty gave;
And what he granted, let him now receive.

But still the votary feels her temper move,
With all the tender violence of love,
That still enjoys the gift, and inly burns
To fearch for larger, or for more returns.
Then, fill'd with bleffings which allure to praise,
And rais'd by joy to foul-enchanting lays,
Thus thanks the Lord, beneficently kind,
In fweet effufions of the grateful mind :
My lifting heart, with more than common heat,
Sends up its thanks to God on every beat,
My glory, rais'd above the reach of scorn,
To God exalts its highly planted horn;
My mouth enlarg'd, mine enemies defics,
And finds in God's falvation full replies.
Oh, bright in holy beauty's power divine,
There's none whofe glory can compare with thine!
None fhare thine honours, nay, there's none
befide,

No rock on which thy creatures can confide.
Ye proud in fpirits, who your gift adore,
Unlearn the faults, and speak with pride no more;

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No more your words in arrogance be shown,
Nor call the works of Providence your own,
Since he that rules us infinitely knows,
And, as he wills, his acts of power dispose.

The ftrong, whofe finewy forces arch'd the bow,
Have feen it thatter'd by the conquering foe;
The weak have felt their nerves more firmly brace,
And new-fprung vigour in the limbs encrease.
The full, whom vary'd tastes of plenty fed,
Have let their labour out to gain their bread.
The poor, that languifh'd in a ftarving ftate,
Content and full, have ceas'd to beg their meat.
The barren womb, no longer barren now,
(Oh, be my thanks accepted with my vow!)
In pleasure wonders at a mothers pain,
And fees her offspring, and conceives again;
While fhe that glory'd in her numerous heirs,
Now broke by feeblenefs, no longer bears.

Such turns their rifing from the Lord derive, The Lord that kills, the Lord that makes alive; He brings by sickness down to gaping graves, And, by reftoring health, from ficknefs faves. He makes the poor by keeping back his store, And makes the rich by bleffing men with more; He finking hearts with bitter grief annoys, Or lifts them bounding with enliven'd joys.

He takes the beggar from his humble clay,
From off the dunghill where defpis'd he lay,
To mix with princes in a rank fupreme,
Fill thrones of honour, and inherit fame :
For all the pillars of exalted state,
So nobly firm, so beautifully great,
Whofe various orders bear the rounded ball,
Which would without them to confufion fall,
All are the Lord's, at his difpofure ftand,
And prop the govern'd world at his command.
His mercy, still more wonderfully fweet,
Shall guard the righteous, and uphold their feet,
While, through the darkness of the wicked foul,
Amazement, dread, and defperation roll;
While envy ftops their tongues, and hopeless grief,
That fees their fears, but not their fears relief.
And they their ftrength as unavailing view,
Since none fhall trust in that and fafety too.
The foes of Ifrael, for Ifrael's fake,

God will to pieces in his anger break;
His bolts of thunder, from an open'd sky,
Shall on their heads, with force unerring, fly.
His voice fall call, and all the world fhall hear,
And all for fentence at his feat appear.

But mount to gentler praises, mount again,
My thoughts, prophetic of Messiah's reign;
Perceive the glories which around him shine,
And thus thine hymn be crown'd with grace
divine.

"Tis here the numbers find a bright repofc,
The vows accepted, and the votary goes.
But thou, my foul, upon her accents hung,
And fweetly pleas'd with what she sweetly fung,
Prolong the pleasure with thine inward eyes,
Turn back thy thoughts, and see the subject rise.
In her peculiar cafe, the fong begun,
And for a while through private bleffings run,
As through their banks the curling waters play,
And foft in murmurs kifs the flowery way,

With force encreafing then he leaps the bounds,
And largely flows on more extended grounds;
Spreads wide and wider, till vaft feas appear,
And boundlefs views of Providence are here.
How fwift thefe views along her anthem glide,
As waves on waves push forward in the tide!
How fwift thy wonders o'er my fancy fweep,
O Providence, thou great unfathom'd deep!
Where refignation gently dips the wing,
And learns to love and thank, admire and fing;
But bold prefumptuous reafonings, diving down
To reach the bottom, in their diving drown.

NegleЯing man, forgetful of thy ways, -
Nor owns thy care, nor thinks of giving praise,
But from himself his happiness derives,
And thanks his wifdom, when by thine he thrives;
His limbs at eafe in foft repofe he spreads,
Bewitch'd with vain delights, on flowery beds;
And, while his fenfe the fragrant breezes kifs,
He meditates a waking dream of bliss;

He thinks of kingdoms, and their crowns are near;
He thinks of glories, and their rays appear;
He thinks of beauties, and a lovely face
Serenely smiles in every taking grace;
He thinks of riches, and their heaps arife,
Difplay their glittering forms, and fix his eyes;
Thus drawn with pleasures in a charming view,
Rifing he reaches, and would fain purfue.
But ftill the fleeting fhadows mock his care,
And still his fingers grafp at yielding air;
Whatc'er our tempers as their comforts want,
It is not man's to take, but God's to grant.
If then, per fifting in the vain defign,
We look for blifs without an help divine,
We still may fearch, and fearch without relief,
Nor only want a blifs, but find a grief.

That fuch conviction may to fight appear,

Sit down, ye fons of men, fpectators here;
Behold a scene up on your folly wrought,

And let this lively fcene inftruct the thought.
Boy, blow the pipe until the bubble rife,
Then caft it off to float upon the skies;
Still fwell its fides with breath-O beauteous frame!
It grows, it fhines: be now the world thy name!
Methinks creation forms itfelf within,

The men, the towns, the birds, the trees, are feen;
The skies above present an azure thow,
And lovely verdure paints an earth below.
I'll wind myself in this delightful 1phere,
And live a thousand years of pleasure there;
Roll'd up in bliffes, which around me clofe,
And now regal'd with these, and now with those.
Falfe hope, but falfer words of joy, farewell,
You've rent the lodging where I meant to dwell,
My bubbles burft, my prospects disappear,
And leave behind a moral and a tear.
If at the type our dreaming fouls awake,
And Hannah's ftrains their juft impreflion make,
The boundless power of Providence we know,
And fix our truft on nothing here below.
Then he, grown pleas'd that men his greatness

own,

Looks down ferenely from his ftarry throne,
And bids the bleffed days our prayers have won
Put on their glories, and prepare to run.

For which our thanks be justly fent above,
Enlarg'd by gladnefs, and inspir'd with love:
For which his praises be for ever fung,
O fweet employment of the grateful tongue!
Burft forth, my temper, in a godly flame,
For all his bleffings laud his holy name:
That, ere mine eyes faluted cheerful day,
A gift devoted in the womb I lay,
Like Samuel vow'd, before my breath I drew,
O could I prove in life like Samuel too!
That all my frame is exquifitely wrought,
The world enjoy'd by fenfe, and God by thought;
That living ftreams through living channels glide,
To make this frame by Nature's courfe abide;
That, for its good, by Providence's care,
Fire joins with water, earth concurs with air;
That mercy's ever-inexhausted store

Is pleas'd to proffer, and to promise more;
And all the proffers ftream with grace divine,
And all the promises with glory fhine.
O praise the Lord, my foul, in one accord,
Let all that is within me praise the Lord;
O praise the Lord, my foul, and ever strive
To keep the sweet remembrances alive.
Still raife the kind affections of thine heart,
Raise every grateful word to bear a part,
With every word the ftrains of love devife,
Awake thine harp, and thou thyself arise;
Then, if his mercy be not half exprefs'd,
Let wondering filence magnify the reft.

DAVI D.

My thought, on views of admiration hung,
Intently ravif'd, and depriv'd of tongue,
Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,
Here mov'd with praife, and mov'd with glory

there;

The joys entrancing, and the mute surprise,
Half fix the blood, and dim the moistening eyes;
Pleasure and praife on one another break,
An exclamation longs at heart to speak;
When thus my genius on the work design'd,
Awaiting clofely, guides the wandering mind.
If, while thy thanks would in thy lays be
wrought,

A bright aftonishment involve the thought,
If yet thy temper would attempt to fing,
Another's quill fhall imp thy feebler wing;
Behold the name of royal David near,
Behold his music, and his measures hear,
Whofe harp devotion in a rapture ftrung,
And left no state of pious fouls unfung.
Him to the wondering world but newly fhewn,
Celestial poetry pronounc'd her own ;

A thousand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair blooming innocence, with tender years,
And native fweetnefs for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to fmile within his early fong,

Undaunted courage, deck'd with manly charms,*
With waving azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Difplay'd the glories and the toils of fight,
Demanded fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect these, the sacred Spirit came,
By mild infufion of celeftial flame,

And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men afpire,
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they ftrive to make proud Babel rife,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies:
While I the glittering page refolv'd to view,
That will the fubject of my lines renew;
The laurel wreath, my fame's imagin'd fhade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help, or else I sink.

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As rolling rivers in their channels flow, Swift from aloft, but on the level flow: Or rage in rocks, or glide along the plains, So juft, fo copious, move the Pfalmift's ftrains So iweetly vary'd with proportion'd heat, So gently clear, or so fublimely great; While Nature's feen in all her forms to fhine, And mix with beauties drawn from Truth divine; Sweet beauties (fweet affection's endless rill) That in the foul like honey drops distil.

Hail, Holy Spirit, hail Supremely Kind, Whose infpiration thus enlarg'd the mind; Who taught him what the gentle fhepherd fings, What rich expreffions fuit the port of kings; What daring words defcribe the foldier's heat, And what the prophet's ecstasies relato; Nor let his worst condition be forgot, In all this splendour of exalted thought, On one thy different forts of graces fall, Still made for each, of equal force in all; And while from heavenly courts he feels a flame, He fings the place from whence the blessing came; And makes his infpirations fweetly prove The tuneful fubject of the mind they move. Immortal Spirit, light of life instill'd,

Who thus the bosom of a mortal fill'd,

Though weak my voice, and though my light be dim,

Yet fain I'd praise thy wondrous gifts in him;
Then, fince thine aid's attracted by defire,
And they that speak thee right muft feel thy fire,
Vouchfafe a portion of thy grace divine,
And raife my voice, and in my numbers shine:
fing of David, David fings of thee,
Af the Pfalmift, and his work in me.

But now, my verse, arising on the wing,
What part of all thy subject wilt thou fing?
How fire thy first attempt? in what refort
Of Paleftina's plains, or Salem's court;
Where, as his hands the folemn measure play'd,
Curs'd fiends with torment and confusion fled;
Where, at the rofy fpring of cheerful light,

A foft efflation of celeftial fire

And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along: (If pious fame record tradition right)
Majestic honour, at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the fceptre of her royal fate,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great,

Came like a rushing breeze, and shook the lyre;
Still fweetly giving every trembling string

So much of found, as made him wake to fing?

1

Within my view the country first appears,
The country first enjoy'd his youthful years;
Then frame thy fhady landscapes in my strain,
Some conscious mountain, or accuftom'd plain;
Where by the waters, on the grafs reclin'd,
With notes he rais'd, with notes he calm'd his
mind;

For through the paths of rural life I'll ftray,
And in his pleasures paint a fhepherd's day.

With grateful fentiments, with active will,
With voice exerted, and enlivening skill,
His free return of thanks he duly paid,
And each new day new beams of bounty fhed.
Awake, my tuneful harp; awake, he cries;
Awake, my lute, the fun begins to rife;
My God, I'm ready now! then takes a flight,
To pureft Piety's exalted height:

From thence his foul, with heaven itself in view,
On humble prayers and humble praises flew.
The praife as pleafing, and as fweet the prayer,
As incenfe curling up through morning air.

When towards the field with early steps he trod,
And gaz'd around, and own'd the works of God,
Perhaps, in fweet melodious words of praife,
He drew the profpect which adorn'd his ways;
The foil, but newly vifited with rain,
The river of the Lord with fpringing grain,
Inlarge, encrease the foften'd furrow bleft,
The year with goodness crown'd, with beauty drest.
And fill to power divine afcribe it all,

From whofe high paths the drops of fatnefs fall;
Then in the fong the fmiling fights rejoice,
And all the mute creation finds a voice;
With thick returns delightful echoes fill
The paftur'd green, or foft afcending hill,
Rais'd by the bleatings of unnumber'd fheep,
To boast their glories in the crowds they keep.
And corn, that's waving in the western gale,
With joyful found proclaims the cover'd vale.

Whene'er his flocks the lovely fhepherd drove, To neighbouring waters, to the neighbouring

grove;

To Jordan's flood, refresh'd by cooling wind,
Or Cedron's brook, to moffy banks confin'd;
In eafy notes, and guife of lowly fwain, [train:
'Twas this he charm'd and taught the liftening
The Lord's my fhepherd, bountiful and good,
I cannot want, fince he provides me food;
Me for his fheep along the verdant meads,
Me, all too mean, his tender mercy leads,
To tafte the springs of life, and tafle repofe
Wherever living paflure fweetly grows.
And as I cannot want, I need not fear,
For ftill the prefence of my fhepherd's near;
Through darkfome vales, where beats of prey
refort,

Where death appears with all his dreadful court,
His rod and hook direct me when I stray,
He calls to fold, and they direct my way.

Perhaps, when feated on the river's brink,
He faw the tender fheep at noon-day drink,
He fung the land where milk and honey glide,
And fattening plenty rolls upon the tide.

Or, fix'd within the freshness of a shade, Whose boughs diffuse their leaves around his head

He borrow'd notions from the kind retreat,
Then fung the righteous in their happy ftate,
And how, by providential care, fuccefs
Shall all their actions in due feason bless;
So firm they ftand, so beautiful they look,
As planted trees afide the purling brook:
Not faded by the rays that parch the plain,
Nor careful for the want of dropping rain :
The leaves fprout forth, the rifing branches fhoot,
And fummer crowns them with the ripen'd fruit.
But if the flowery field, with varied hue,
And native fweetnefs, entertain'd his view;
The flowery field with all the glorious throng
Of lively colours rofe, to paint his fong;
Its pride and fall within the numbers ran,
And fpake the life of tranfitory man.

As grafs arifes by degrees unfeen

To deck the breaft of earth with lovely green,
Till Nature's order brings the withering days,
And all the fummer's beauteous pomp decays;
So, by degrees unfeen, doth man arise,

So bloons by courfe, and fo by courfe he dies.
Or as her head the gaudy floweret heaves,
Spreads to the fun, and boafts ler filken leaves,
Till accidental winds their glory fhed,
And then they fall before the time to fade;
So man appears, fo falls in all his prime,
Erc age approaches on the fteps of time.

But thee, my God! thee still the fame we find,
Thy glory lafting, and thy mercy kind;
That fill the juft, and all his race, may know
No cause to mourn their fwift account below.
When from beneath he saw the wandering

fheep

That graz'd the level, range along the steep,
Then rofe, the wanton fragglers home to call,
Before the pearly dews at evening fall;
Perhaps new thoughts the rifing ground fupply,
And that employs his mind which fills his eye.
From pointed hills, he cries, my wishes tend,
To that great hill from whence fupports defcend :
The Lord's that hill, that place of fure defence,
My wants obtain their certain help from thence.
And as large hills projected shadows throw,
To ward the fun from of the vales below,
Or for their safety stop the blast above,
That, with raw vapours loaded, nightly rove;
So fhall protection o'er his fervants (pread,
And I repofe beneath the facred fhade,
Unhurt by rage, that, like a fummer's day,
Dettroys and fcorches with impetuous ray;
By wafting forrows, undepriv'd of rest,
That fall, like damps by moon-fhine, on the breaft.
Here from the mind the profpects feem to wear,
And leave the couch'd defign appearing bare;
And now no more the shepherd fings his hill,
But fings the fovereign Lord's protection ftill.
For as he fees the night prepar'd to come,
On wings of evening he prepares for home;
And in the fong thus adds a bleffing more,
To what the thought within the figure bore:
Eternal goodness manifeftly still

Preferves my foul from cach approach of ill :
Ends all my days, as all my days begin,
And keeps my goings, and my comings-in,

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