fins before I die, Pardon my And blot them from thy book, Remember all the dying pains And let his blood wash out my stains, may I now for ever fear T' indulge a finful thought, Since the great God can fee and hear, And write down every fault. HYMN, THOU didft, O mighty God! exist Ere time began its race; Before the ample elements Fill'd up the void of space; Before the pond'rous earthly globe Before the ocean's mighty fprings WATTS, Ere through the gloom of ancient night Before the loud melodious fpheres Ere through the empyrean courts Or to their harps the fons of light Ere men ador'd, or angels knew, And when the pillars of the world And all this vaft and goodly frame When from her orb the moon shall start, Th' aftonifh'd fun roll back, And all the trembling ftarry lamps. Their ancient course forfake; For ever permanent and fix'd, Unchang'd in everlasting years, Shall thy existence be.. MRS. ROWE. ADDRESS TO THE DEITY. ✪ THOU great arbiter of life and death! And triumph in existence; and couldst know I truft in thee, and know in whom I truft; YOUNG. THE VANITY OF WEALTH. NO more thus brooding o'er yon heap, DR. JOHNSON. A PARAPHRASE ON PART OF THE SIXTH CHAPTER OF ST. MATTHEW. WHEN my breast labours with oppreffive cart, And o'er my cheeks defcends the falling tear; While all my warring paffions are at strife, Oh let me liften to the words of life! Raptures deep-felt his doctrine did impart, And thus he rais'd from earth the drooping heart.. “Think not, when all your scanty stores afford Is spread at once upon the fparing board; Think not, when worne the homely robe appears, While on the roof the howling tempeft bears; What farther fhall this feeble life fuftain, And what fhall clothe thefe fhiv'ring limbs again. Say, does not life its nourishment exceed ? And the fair body its investing weed? Behold! and look away your low defpairSee the light tenants of the barren air: To them, nor fores, nor granaries belong; Nought, but the woodland, and the pleasing song; Yet, your kind heav'nly Father bends his eye On the least wing that flits along the sky. To him they fing, when Spring renews the plain; To him they cry, in Winter's pinching reign; Nor is their mufic, nor their plaint in vain ; |