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Caft to the decp I fell, by thy command,
Caft in the midst, beyond the reach of land;
Then to the midst brought down, the feas abide
Beneath my feet, the feas on every fide;
In forms the billow, and in calms the wave,
Are moving coverings to my wandering grave.
Forc'd by defpair, I cry'd, How to my coft
I fied thy prefence, Oh, for ever loft!
But hope revives my foul, and makes me fay,
Yet tow'rds thy temple fhall I turn and pray;
Or, if I know not here where Salem lies,
Thy temple's heaven, and faith has inward eyes.
Alas! the waters, which my whale furround,
Have through my forrowing foul a paffage found;
And now the dungeon moves, new depths I try,
New thoughts of danger all his paths fupply.
The laft of deeps affords the laft of dread,
And wraps its funeral weeds around my head:
Now o'er the fand his rollings seem to go,
Where the big mountains root their bafe below;
And now to rocks and clefts their courfey
take,

Earth's endless bars, too ftrong for me to break;
Yet, from th' abyfs. my God! thy grace divine
Hath call'd him upward, and my life is mine.
Still, as I tofs'd. I fcarce retain'd my breath,
My foul was fick within, and faint to death.
'Twas then I thought of thee, for pity pray'd,
And to thy temple flew the prayers I made.
The men, whom lying vanity enfuares,
Forfake thy mercy, that which might be theirs.
But I will pay my God! my King! receive
The folenin vows my full affecion gave,
When in thy temple, for a pfalm, I fing
Salvation only from my God, my king.
Thus ends the prophet; firft from Canaan fent,
To let the Gentiles know they must repent:
God hears, and fpeaks; the whale, at God's com-
mand,

Heaves to the light, and cafts him forth to land.
With long fatigue, with unexpected eafe,
Opprefs'd a while, he lies afide the feas;
His eyes, though glad, in strange aftorish'd way
Stare at the golden front of cheerful day;
Then, fowly rais', he fees the wonder plain,
And what he pray'd, he wrote, to fing again.

The fong recorded brings his vow to mind;
He must be thankful, for the Lord was kind;
Strait to the work he fhunn'd he flies in hafte
(That feems his vow, or fecms a part at leaf);
Preaching he comes, and thus denounc'd to all,
Yet forty days, and Nineveh fhall fall.
Fear feiz'd the Gentiles, Nineveh believes;
All fast with penitence, and God forgives.

Nor yet of ufe the prophet's fuffering fails, Hell's deep black bofom more than fhews the whale's,

But fome refemblance brings a type to view,
The place was drak, the time proportion'd too.
A race, the Saviour cries, a finful race,
Tempts for a fign the powers of heavenly grace,
And let them take the fign! as Jonah lay,
Three days and nights within the fish of prey;
So fhall the Son of Man defcend below,
Earth's opening entrails fhall retain him fo.

My foul, now feek the fong, and find me there
What heaven has fhewn thee to repel despair;
See, where from hell the breaks the crumbling
ground,

Her hairs ftand upright, and they ftare around;
Her horrid front deep-trenching wrinkles trace,
Lean fharpening looks deform her livid face;
Bent lie the brows, and at the bend below,
With fire and blood two wandering eye-balls
glow;

Fill'd are her arms with numerous aids to kill,
And God the fancies but the judge of ill.
Oh, fair-eye'd Hope! thou fee'ft the paffion nigh,
Daughter of promife, oh forbear to fly!
Affurance holds thee, fear would have thee go,
Close thy blue wings, and fland thy deadly foe;
The judge of ill is ftill the Lord of Grace,
As fuch behold him in the prophet's cafe,
Caft to be drown'd, devour'd within the fea,
Sunk to the deep, and yet reftor'd to day.

Oh, love the Lord, my foul, whofe parent care
So rules the world he punishes to fpare.
If heavy grief my downcaft heart opprefs,
My body danger, or my ftate diftrefs,
With low fubmiffion in thy temper bow,
Like Jonah pray, like Jonah make thy vow;
With hopes of comfort kifs the chaftening rod,
And, fhunning mad defpair, repofe in God;
Then, whatfoe'er the prophet's vow defign,
Repentance, thanks, and charity, be mine.

HEZEKIAH.

FROM the bleak beach, and broad expanfe of fea,

To lofty Salem, thought, direct thy way; Mount thy light chariot, move along the plains, And end thy flight when Hezekiah reigns.

How swiftly thought has pafs'd from land to
land,

And quite out-run time's measuring-glass of sand!
Great Salem's walls appear, and I refort
To view the fate of Hezekiah's court.

Well may that king a pious verse inspire,
Who cleans'd the temple, who reviv'd the choir,
Pleas'd with the fervice David fix'd before,
That heavenly mufic might on earth adore.
Deep-rob'd in white, he made the Levites ftand
With cymbals, harps, and pfalteries in their hand;
He gave the priests their trumpets, prompt to
raife

The tuneful foul, by force of found, to praife.
A skilful master for the fong he chofe,
The fongs were David's these, and Afaph's those ;
Then burns their offering, all around rejoice,
Each tuncs his inflrument to join the voice;
The trumpets founded, and the fingers fung,
The people worshipp'd, and the temple rung.
Each, while the victim burns, prefents his heart,
Then the priest bleffes, and the people part.

Hail! facred Mufic! fince you know to draw
The foul to heaven, the Spirit to the law,
I come to prove thy force, thy warbling ftring
May tune my foul to write what others fing.

But is this Salem? this the promis'd blifs,

Attentive here he gaz'd, the prophet pray'd,

Thefe fighs and groans! what means the realm by Back went the fun, and back purfued the shade.

this?

What folemn forrow dwells in every street?
What fear confounds the downcaft looks I meet?
Alas the king! whole nations fink with woe,
When righteous kings are fummon'd hence to
go;

The king lies fick; and thus, to speak his doom,
The prophet, grave Ifaiah, ftalks the room
Oh, prince, thy fervant, fent from God, believe ;
Set all in order, for tou canst not live.
Solemn he faid, and fighing left the place;
Deep prints of horror furrow'd every face;
Within their minds appear eternal glooms,
Black gaping marbles of their monarchs' tombs;
A king belov'd deceas'd, his offspring none,
And wars deftructive, ere they fix the throne.
Strait to the wall he turn'd, with dark defpair,
('Twas tow'rds the temple, or for private prayer,)
And thus to God the pious monarch spoke,
Who burn'd the groves, the brazen serpent broke:
Remember, Lord, with what a heart for right,
What care for truth, I walk'd within thy fight.
'Twas thus with terror, prayers, and tears, he
tofs'd,

When the mid-court the grave Ifaiah crofs'd,
Whom, in the cedar columns of the fquare,
Meets a sweet angel, hung in glittering air.
Seiz'd with a trance, he ftopp'd, before his eye
Clears a rais'd arch of vifionary sky,
Where, as a minute pafs'd, the greater light
Purpling appear'd, and fouth'd and fet in night;
A moon fucceeding leads the starry train,
She glides, and finks her filver horns again!
A fecond fancied morning drives the fhades,
Clos'd by the dark, the fecond evening fades,
The third bright dawn awakes, and ftrait he fees
The remple rife, the monarch on his knees.
Pleas'd with the fcene, his inward thoughts re-
joice,

When thus the guardian angel form'd a voice:
Now tow'rds the captain of my people go,
And, feer, relate him what thy vifions fhow;
The Lord has heard his words, and feen his tears,
And through fifteen extends his future years.

Here, to the room prepar'd with difmal black, The prophet turning, brought the comfort back. Oh, monarch, hail, he cry'd; thy words are heard,

Thy virtuous actions meet a kind regard;
God gives thee fifteen years, when thrice a day
Shews the round fun, within the temple pray.

When thrice the day! furpriz'd, the monarch
cries,

When thrice the fun! what power have I to rife!
But, if thy comfort's human or divine,
'Tis fhort to prove it-give thy prince a fign.
Behold, the prophet cry'd (and ftretch'd his
hands),

Against yon lattice, where the dial ftands;
Now fhall the fun a backward journey go
Through ten drawn lines, or leap to ten below.
'Tis cafier pofting nature's airy track,
Replies the monarch: let the fun go back.

Cheer'd by the fign, and by the prophet heal'd, What facred thanks his gratitude reveal'd! As fickly fwallows, when a fummer ends, Who mifs'd the paffage with their flying friends, Take to a wall, there lean the languid head, While all who find them think the fleepers dead; If yet their warmth new days of fummer bring, They wake, and joyful flutter up to fing: So far'd the monarch, fick to death he lay, His court despair'd, and watch'd the last decay; At length new favour fhines, new life he gains, And rais'd he fings; 'tis thus the fong remains :

I faid, my God, when in the loth'd difeafe Thy prophet's words cut off my future days, Now to the grave, with mournful hafte, I go, Now death unbars his fable gates below. How might my years by courfe of nature last! But thou pronounc'd it. and the profpect país'd. I faid, my God, thy fervant now no more Shall in thy temple's facred courts adore; No more on earth with living man converfe, Shrunk in a cold uncomfortable hearse.

My life, like tents which wandering thepherds raife,

Proves a fhort dwelling, and removes at eafe.
My fins pursue me; fee the deadly band!
My God, who fees them, cuts me from the land;
As when a weaver finds his labour sped,
Swift from the beam he parts the fastening thread.
With pining ficknefs all from night to day,
From day to night, he makes my ftrength decay:
Reckoning the time, I roll with reflefs groans,
Till, with a lion's force, he crush my bones;
New morning dawns, but, like the morning paît,
'Tis day, 'tis night, and ftill my forrows laft.
Now, fcreaming like the crane, my words I fpoke,
Now, like the fwallow, chattering quick, and
broke;

Now, like the doleful dove, when on the plains
Her mourning tone affects the liftening fwains.
To heaven, for aid, my wearying eyes I throw,
At length they're weary'd quite, and fink with

wne.

From death's arreft, for fome delays, I fue; Though, Lord, who judg'd me, thou reprieve me,

too.

Rapture of joy! what can thy fervant fay?
He fent his prophet to prolong my day;
Through my glad limbs I feel the wonder run,
Thus faid the Lord, and this himfelf has done.
Soft fhall I walk, and, well fecur'd from fears,
Poffefs the comforts of my future years,
Keep foft, my heart, keep humble, while they
roll,

Ner e'er forget my bitterness of foul.
'Tis by the means they facred words fupply,
That mankind live, but in peculiar 1;
A fecond grant thy mercy pleas'd to give,
And my rais'd fpirits doubly feem to live.
Behold the time! when peace adorn'd my reign,
'Iwas then I felt my ftroke of humbling pain;
Corruption dug her pit, I fear'd to fink,
God lov'd my foul, and fnatch'd me from the brink.

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Or will the fenfelefs dead exult with mirth,
Mov'd to their hope by proniifes on earth?
The living, Lord, the living only praise,
The living only fit to fing thy lays :
Thefe feel thy favours, these thy temple fee;
These raife the fong, as I this day to thee.
Nor will thy truth the prefent only reach,
This the good fathers fhall their offspring teach;
Report the bleffings which adorn my page,
And hand their own, with mine, from age to age.
So, when the Maker heard his creature crave,
So kindly rofe his ready will to fave,
Then march we folemn tow'rds the temple-door,
While all our joyful mufic founds before;
There, on this day through all my life appear,
When this comes round in each returning year;
There frike the ftrings, our voices jointly raife,
And let his dwellings hear my songs of praise.

Thus wrote the monarch, and I'll think the lay
Defign'd for public, when he went to pray;
I'll think the perfect compofition runs,
Perform'd by Heman's or Jeduthun's fons.

Then, fince the time arrives the Seer foretold, And the third morning rolls an orb of gold, With thankful zcal, recover'd prince, prepare To lead thy nation to the dome of prayer.

My fancy takes her chariot once again, Moves the rich wheels, and mingles in thy train; She fees the fingers reach Moriah's hill, The minstrels follow, then the porches fill; She wakes the numerous inftruments of art, That each perform its own adapted part; Seeks airs expreffive of thy grateful ftrains, And, listening, hears the vary'd tune fhe feigns.

From a grave pitch, to fpeak the monarch's woe. The notes flow down, and deeply found below; All long-continuing, while depriv'd of cafe He rolls for tedions nights and heavy days. Here intermix'd with difcord, when the crane Screams in the notes, through fharper ienfe of pain;

There, run with defcant on, and taught to shake,
When pangs repeated force the voice to break :
Now like the dove they murmur, till it fighs
They fall, and languifh with the failing eyes:
Then flowly flackening, to furprise the more,
From a dead paufe his exclamations foar,

To meet brisk health the notes afcending fly,
Live with the living, and exult on high :
Yet ftill distinct in parts the mufic plays,
Till prince and people both are call'd to praife;
Then all, uniting, ftrongly ftrike the ftring,
Put forth their utmost breath, and loudly fing;
The wide-fpread chorus fills the facred ground,
And holy trapfport fcales the clouds with found.
Or thus, or livelier, if their hand and voice
Join'd the good anthem, might the realm rejoice.
This story known, the learn'd Chaldeans came,
Drawn by the sign obferv'd, or mov'd by fame;

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What help for practice here incites the mind:
Strait to the fong, the thankful fong, I move;
May such the voice of every creature prove!
If every creature meets its fhare of woe,
And for kind refcues every creature owe,
In public fo thy Maker's praise proclaim,
Nor what you begg'd with tears, conceal with
fhame.

'Tis there the miniftry thy name repeat, And tell what mercies were vouchfaf 'd of late; Then joins the church, and begs, through all our days,

Not only with our lips, but lives, to praise.

'Tis there our fovereigns, for a signal day
The feaft proclaim'd, their fignal thanks repay.
O'er the long ftreets we fee the chariots wheel,
And, following, think of Hezekiah ftill,

In the blefs'd dome we meet the white-rob'd choir,
In whose sweet notes our ravifh'd fouls afpire;
Side answering fide, we hear, and bear a part,
All warm'd with language from the grateful heart;
Or raise the fong, where meeting keys rejoice,
And teach the bafe to wed the treble voice;
Art's foftning echoes in the mufic found,
And, anfwering nature's, from the roof rebound.

Here clofe my verfe, the fervice afks no more, Blefs thy good God, and give the tranfport o'er.

HABAK KUK.

Now leave the porch, to vision now retreat, Where the next rapture glows with varying heat; Now change the time, and change the templefcene,

The following feer forewarns a future reign.
To fome retirement, where the prophet' fons
Indulge their holy flight, my fancy runs ;
Some facred college, built for praife and prayer,
And heavenly dream, the feeks Habakkuk there.
Perhaps 'tis there he moans the nation's fin,
Hears the word come, or feels the fit within ;
Or fees the vifion, fram'd with angels' hands,
And dreads the judgments of revolted lands;
Or holds a converfe, if the Lord appear,
And, like Elijah, wraps his face for fear.
This deep recefs portends an act of weight,
A meffage labouring with the work of fate.

Methinks the kies have loft their lovely blue,
A ftorm rides fiery, thick the clouds enfue.
Fall'n to the ground, with proftrate face I lie :
Oh! 'twere the fame in this to gaze and die!
But hark the prophet's voice; my prayers com-
plain

Of labour spent, of preaching urg'd in vain.
And muft, my God, thy forrowing fervant ftill
Quit my lone joys, to walk this world of ill?

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Where fpoiling rages, ftrife and wrong command,
And the flack'd laws no longer curb the land?

At this a strange and more than human found Thus breaks the cloud, and daunts the trembling ground.

Behold, ye Gentiles; wondering all behold,
What scarce ye credit, though the work be told;
For, lo, the proud Chaldean troops I raise,
To march the breadth, and all the region feize;
Fierce as the prowling wolves, at close of day,
And fwift as eagles in purfuit of prey.
As eafter winds to blast the season blow,
For blood and rapine flies the dreadful foe;
Leads the fad captives, countless as the fand,
Derides the princes, and destroys the land.
Yet thefe, triumphant grown, offend me more,
And only thank the gods they chose before.

Art thou not holieft, here the prophet cries;
Supreme, eternal, of the pureft eyes;

And fhall thofe eyes the wicked realms regard,
Their crimes be great, yet victory their reward?
Shall these ftill ravage more and more to reign,
Draw the full net, and caft to fill again?
As watchmen filent fit, I wait to fee
How folves my doubt, what fpeaks the Lord to me.
Then go, the Lord replies, fufpend thy fears,
And write the vifion for a term of years:
Thy foes will feel their turn when those are past,
Wait, though it tarry; fure it comes at laft.
'Tis for their rapine, lufts, and thirst of blood,
And all their unprotecting gods of wood,
The Lord is prefent on his facred hill,
Ceafe thy weak doubts, and let the world be ftill.
Here terror leaves me; with exalted head,

I breathe fine air, and find the vision fled;
The feer withdrawn, infpir'd, and urg'd to write,
By the warm influence of the sacred fight.

His writing finifh'd, prophet-like array'd,
He brings the burden on the region laid;
His hands a tablet and a volume bear,
The tablet threatenings, and the volume prayer;
Both for the temple, where, to fhun decay,
Enroll'd the works of infpiration lay.
And awful, oft he ftops, or marches flow,
While the dull'd nation hears him preach their woe.
Arriv'd at length, with grave concern for all,
He fix'd his table on the facred wall.

|O, Lord, by whom their number'd years we find,
Ev'n in the midst receive the drooping mind;
Ev'n in the midft thou canst-then make it known,
Thy love, thy will, thy power, to save thine own.
Remember mercy, though thine anger burn,
And foon to Salem bid thy flock return.
O, Lord, who gav'st it with an outstretch'd hand,
We well remember how thou gav'ft the land.
God came from Teman, fouthward fprung the
flame,

From Paron-mount the one that's holy came;
A glittering glory made the defert blaze,
High heaven was cover'd, earth was fill'd with
praise.

Dazzling the brightness, not the fun fo bright,
'Twas here the pure fubftantial fount of light;
Shot from his hand and fide in golden ftreams,
Came forward effluent horny-pointed beams:
Thus fhone his coming, as fublimely fair
As bounded nature has been fram'd to bear;
But all his further marks of grandeur hid,
Nor what he could was known, but what he did.
Dire plagues before him ran at his command,
To wafte the nations in the promis'd land.
A fcorching flame went forth where'er he trod,
And burning fevers were the coals of God.
Fix'd on the mount he flood, his measuring reed
Marks the rich realms for Jacob's feed decreed:
He looks with anger, and the nations fly
From the fierce fparklings of his dreadful eye;
He turus, the mountain fhakes its awful brow;
Awful he turns, and hills eternal bow.
How glory there, how terror here, difplays
His great unknown, yet everlafting ways!
I fee the fable tents along the strand
Where Cufhan wander'd, defolately stand;
And Midian's high pavilions fhake with dread,
While the tam'd feas thy rescued nation tread.
What burst the path? what made the Lord en-
gage?

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 fwore;
Those oaths, that promise, Ifrael had before.

The rock that felt thee cleav'd, the rivers flow,
The wondering defert lends them beds below.

'Twas large infcrib'd, that thofe who run might Thy might the mountain's heaving fhocks con

read:

"Habakkuk's burden, by the Lord decreed;
"For Judah's fins her empire is no more,
"The fierce Chaldeans bathe her realm in gore."
Next to the priest his volume he refign'd,

'Twas prayer, with praifes mix'd, to raife the
mind;

'Twas facts recounted, which their fathers knew,
'Twas power in wonders manifeft to view;
'Twas comfort, rais'd on love already paft,
And hope, that former love returns at laft.
The priests within the prophecy convey'd,
The fingers' tunes to join his anthem made.
Hear, and attend the words: and, holy thou
That help'd the prophet, help the poet now.

O, Lord, who rul'ft the world, with mortal ear
I've heard thy judgments, and I shake for fear.

fefs'd,

High shatter'd Horeb trembled o'er the rest.
Great Jordan pafs'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 courfe 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 spears of lightning, and thy darts of hail.
'Twas thou that march'd against their heathen

band,

Rage in thy visage, and thy flail in hand;
'Twas thou that went before to wound their head,
The captain follow'd where the Saviour led :

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Torn from their earth, they feel the defperate; If juftice leaves to wound, and thou to groan,

wound,

And power unfounded fails for want of ground. With village-war thy tribes, where'er they go, Diftrefs the remnant of the fcatter'd foe;

Yet mad they rufh'd, as whirling wind defcends, And deem'd for friendlefs thofe the Lord befriends.

Thy trampling horfe from fea to fea fubdue,
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

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 trops invade ? Though neither bloffoms on the fig appear, Nor vines with clusters deck the purpling year; Though all our labours olive-trees belic, Though fields the fubftance of the bread deny; Though flocks are fever'd from the filent fold, And the rais'd ftalls 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 ftill my temper fings, What David fet to inftruments of ftrings: The Lord's my ftrength, like hinds he makes my Yon mount's my refuge, I as fafely fieet; Or (if the fong's apply'd) he make me ftill Expect returning to Moriah's hill.

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In all this hymn what daring grandeur fhines,
What darting glery rays among the lines:
What mountains, earthquakes, clouds, and fmokes
are feen,

What ambient fires conceal the Lord within;
What working wonders give the promis'd place,
And load the conduct of a stubborn race!
In all the work a lively fancy flows,
O'er all the work fincere affection glows:
While truth's firm rein the courfe f fancy guides,
And o'er affection zeal divine prefides.

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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 difplays;
Whofe twelve fair fruits, cach month by turns re-
ceives,

And, for the nations' healing, ope their leaves.
Then be the nations heal'd, for this 1 fing,
Defcending fftly from the prophet's wing.

Thou, world, attend the cafe of Ifrael; fee
'will thus at large refer to God and thee,
If love be fewn thee, turn thine eyes above,
And pay the duties relative to love;
If power be flewn, and wonderfully fo,
Wonder and thank, adore, and bow below.
If power that led thee, now no longer lead,

But brow bent juflice draws the flaming blade ; When love is fcorn'd, when in the word provokes,

Let tears and prayers avert, or heal the f:okes;

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 just 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, shoots a golden ray,

To make the fhades 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 :
The fountain of eternal day;
Lift thy hands, and humbly pray,
That, as the light ferenely fair,
Bluftrates all the tracts of air;
The Sacred Spirit so may rest,
With quickening beams, upon thy breaft;
And kindly clean it all within,
From darker blemishes of fin;
And fhine 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 bufinefs 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 fmall repaft,
We break the fober morning fast;
Or in our thoughts and boufes lay
I he future methods of the day;
Or early walk abroad to meet
Our business, with industrious feet :
Whate'e we think, whate'er we do,
His glory ftill be kept in view.
O, giver of eternal blils,
Heavenly Father, grant me this;
Graut it all, as well as me,

All whole hearts are fix'd on thee;
Who revere thy Son above,
Who thy Sacred Spirit love.

HYMN FOR NOON,

The fun is fwiftly mounted high, It glitters in the fouthern sky;

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