« PreviousContinue »
'Tis judgment shakes him; there's the fear,
That prompts the wish to stay: He has incurred a long arrear,
And must despair to pay.
Pay!-follow Christ, and all is paid;
His death your peace insures ; Think on the grave where he was laid,
And calm descend to yours.
ON A SIMILAR OCCASION,
FOR THE YEAR 1793.
De sacris autom bæc sit una sententia, ut conserventür.
Cic. DE LEGO But let us all concur in this one sentiment, that things
sacred be inviolate.
He lives who lives to God alone,
And all are dead beside;
To live to God is to requite
His love as best we may:
His promises our stay.
But life, within a narrow ring
Of giddy joys comprized,
But rather death disguised.
Can life in them deserve the name,
Who only live to prove
An endless life above?
Who, much diseased, yet nothing feel;
Much nienaced, nothing dread; Have wounds, which only God can heal,
Yet never ask his aid?
Who deem his house an useless placo,
Faith, want of common ser.se; And ardour in the Christian race,
A hypocrite's pretence?
Who trample order; and the day,
Which God asserts his own, Dishonour with unhallowed play,
And worship chance alone?
If scorn of God's commands, impressed
On word and deed, imply
With life that cannot die;
Such want it, and that want uncured
Till man resigns his breath, Speaks him a criminal, assured
Of everlasting death.
Sad period to a pleasant course !
Yet so will God repay
And mercy cast away.
Pause here, and think: a monitory rhime
Consult life's silent clock, thy bounding veia;
EPITAPH ON A HARE.
HERE lies, whom hound did ne'er pursuc,
Nor swifter greyhound follow, Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew,
Nor c'er heard bunteman's hallo',
Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nursed with tender care, And to domestic bounds confined,
Was still a wild Jack-hare,
Though duly from my hand he tools
His pittance every night, He did it with a jealous look,
And, when he could, would bite.
His diet was of wheaten bread
And milk, and oats, atid staw; Thistles, or lettuces instead,
With sand to scour his maw.
On twigs of hawthorn he regaled,
On pippins' russet peel,
Sliced carrot pleased him well.