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THE POOR BUND.

A Mtining Rrjiectwru

Be glad, my soul; the gloomy ni^ht

Has now her rule rcsi^u'd:
Rchold mine eyes! the grateful light
Returns again to bless thy sight,

But visits not the blind.

The morn may make the sun arise,

And these no pleasure find;
Then let ra- well thy mercies prize,
Thank my kind Maker for my eyes,

And pity the poor blind.

They pity claim; but more, much more,

The man of darken'd mind, Ti'.a his hard lot mourns o'er and o'Vr; Thu h.s sad cue does not dei>lore,

Nor knows that he is blind.

Christians, who yourselves of late,

In darkness were confin'd;
Can you forget your dismal state;
A Saviour's love so fr< r, so grcr.t,

That pity'd you when blind.

"No," you reply, while life remains;

Hi; grace we'll call to mind: We'll publish too in joyful strains, Jesus still lives, and grace still reigns,

In pity to the blind!

I greet ye, Missionary bandc,

fn pnre compassion join'd; I prav, May G<.d uphold the hands That carry life to dying lands,

And light to sinners blind.

Go .on, yr highly favour'd still,

The shades begin to rice; Go on till light all nations rilf, And (if it were Heav'n's sov'reign will)

Till all the blind shall see.

W, Ba«k».

On the Domestic Happiness of a Christian Couple.

LONGING FOR HOME.

A Though at the Close of a Week. An'ij now another week is past,

And I on.: wreck am nearer come*; Fly swift, ye hours ; co.ivey me fast

To iv.y long wish'd-for, dearest home.

Far from my father's houso, its true.
Yet frequent tokens of his love,

And kirn! memorials, not a few,
Oft I receive from Uun above. *

Sometimes he deigns to visit me,
And with his grace my heart to cheer:

But oh! I long unceasingly
To dwell at home, and see him there!

His love has plac'd mTM in this school,
Where cv*ry lessen of his grace,

And all the discipline and rule,
Are to prepare me tor ihar place.

Soon asTiis plans are all complete,

And I am perfected in love;
Soon as his grace has made me meet

For my inheritance above,
He'll call me from my banish'd stare,

And take me to my blissful home.
Then wail, my Sftul, in patience wait;

Soon will his glorious chariot cocne.

W. B.

SONNET.

/ ascend unto my Father and your Father.

Father! that name is music to mv err!
My heart reverb'rates at the cheering

sound:
Anxious, in vain, I ran gay Pleasure's
round;
Ne»er such joys midst earthly scenes ap-
pear
That name brings pow'rful consolat ion near,
When this poor world a barren waste

is found; From that rich source my eager hopes arc crown'd, While only disappointment waits me btri. Fathec! that title I would siill repeat: An orphan knows the bliss that word reveals: (Dear to my hearr.till it shall fail to heat !) An orphan best in bounclk-s> value feels. -My Father, God ! 'tis ba'm for ev'ry woe; A spring whence joys ecstatic ceaseless

dow. AsstTTi.

LINES

Written on a Blank Leaf of a
Pocket Biblt.

^urcinus Book! of books the belt j
Dearest gift i>: Go I, but »nt\

How blesr tt>e pair whom Christian love

uivtes! Joy smiles upon their days, »nJ crowns

their nights; In peace their harpy moments glide away.

Till both ar^ vte\ran\*A r* .if-m,l dm ^

To the Editor.

The music of Handel, as in most of his compositions, was adapted not merclv to the metre but to the sense of the old version of Psalm civ. I have heard, that on occasion of a new version of the Psalms, a premium was once advertised for a new translation ofrhat Psalm in thebld metre, nut that the object was not accomplished. In the following linrs I have attempted a more literal,as well as a more modern transfusion of the original into the English language,—adheiing to the metre to which Handel's admirable tune was adapted. The whole psalm being too copious for your Miscellany, I have been limited to the first thirteen verses; adding, at the close, w.'.at appeared requisite to accommodate the Ode of the Jewish prophet to the use of evangelical worshippers.

PSALM CIV.

ADoKl,Omy soul, Jehovaii'sgreat name!

With majesty clotu'd, and matchless in fame:

The sun'sdaizling lustre his robe he hath made;

The heav'ns are a curtain, his glories to shade.

The fathomless deep his mansion sustains;

His chariot, the clouds, he guides or restrains:

The /'inti's sounding pinions his footsteps proclaim r

His envoys ate spirits, his ministers flame.

HefounrVd the ear:h immovably fast;

Yet suinruoii'd the floods its lorin to lay waste:

The loftiest mountains in waves were immers'd;

He spoke by his thunders, the waters dispers'd.

They mounted the hills, thy call to attend;

Rebuk'd by thy voice, the vales they.descend;

Retire to their channels, and haste to the deep,

Its limits appointed for ever to keep.

The earth thus renew'd, he waters from high;

Of beasts tame and wild, the thirst to supply: ■

The soring?, at his mandate rush forth from the hiils,

And wind through, the valleys, uniting their rill's.

The birds of the hcav'ns, there find a retreat,;

And pour through the groves their melodies sweet:

Thus, Lord! shines thy glory, in work*

of thy .hands; [mands.

But most thy redemption our wonder de

Thy Mai-sty vcil'din flesh like our own,

Bv |esus display'd, transcendent!'/ shone;

Thine anger o'crwhclm'd us, thy pity restored;

Thy promise upholds us !—My soul, praise the Lord! Minimus.

■For this God i< our God for ever and* e-vrr ; be -will be our Guide even unim Death.—Psalm xlvni. 14.

Codlu I say, "This God is mint,"
With a confidence divine,
Surely, I no more should rove,
Seeking any meaner love.

He all mercy is, and grace,
Heav'n shines biaming in his facet
Were I settled n his love.
Sure, I never more should rove.

0 would he this truth reveal,

And stamp it with his heavenly scal^
Surely, till I soar'd a'we,
No;lung could my spirit move.

Cursed sin! v.crt thou fortjiv'n,

1 should have a present Heav'n! Would m) God this veil remove,

1 should sec nb name is Love! C.

SUNDAY SCHOOL HYMN,

Sung at Paradiu Strut Cbafitl,
Birmingham.

Father of Heavrn, to thee we raise

The cherrful notes of solemn praise:
Bless'd be thv name, thou (jod oi love.
By all on eaith, by all above.

Thy tfnder mercy saw us lie
Oppress'd with sin and misery;
Pity'd our helpless, hopeless grief,
And scut thy Son to oar relief.
O bless'd Redeemer, who can tell
Tl.y love in saving us from Hs!l?
Christ dy'd lor us, — for us he rose;
And rising concruer'd all our foes.

Now kindly Jesus doth receive
I'nor children who liis word believe:
"po'rbid them not, my grace is free ;.
"Let little children come lunie."
While here we live, we'll spend our breatbj
In praising Jesns.; and when Death
Shall close our lips, oor song shall risej
In nobler strains, above the skies.
O richly Mess our friends, we pray,
Who give to out support to-day;

*'\\vr't friv'n below.

w.Wi

]"or gold and silver giv'n below, Eternal life do thou bestow.

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THE

EVANGELICAL MAGAZINE.
SEPTEMBER, 1803.

AN ACCOUNT OF

MOSES BAKER,
A MULATTO BAPTIST PREACHER,

NEAR MARTHA UREA, IN JAMAICA.
[Drawn up by himself, and communicated to a Friend in Leicestershire. ~\

Honoured Sir,

I Have been induced, by repeated solicitations, to make the following attempt to relate the particulars of my convictions, conversion, and experience, with the principles I hold and teach the people, and the manner of discipline and government in our church; as well as the success I have met with, in turning poor lost sinners from sin, to the knowledge and love of a precious Redeemer.

1 consider it proper, before I "proceed farther, to give an account of myself. — I am from New York, in North America, where my occupation was a barber. I was married September 4, 1778, to Susannah Ashton, a mantua-maker, a native of New York, by the Rev. \V. Walters, agreeably to the rites of the church of England; in which denomination we had been, brought up, and had learnt to read the Scriptures, and to write a little. At the evacution of New York, in 178;l, I was, with my wife and child, obliged to come to the island of Jamaica. — I am now a man well-stricken in years, and very infirm.

As to religion, when I first came to Jamaica, mine was that; of the world: I was much given to strong drink, and to many other bad habits.

After my arrival, I hired a small shop in Kingston, where I followed my trade for three years; during which time 1 saw it would not answer, as I became very poor, and could scarcely subsist. I removed thence to a place in the mountains, called Leguine, about fifteen miles from Kingston, there to till the ground. The providence of God so laid it out, that this land came into Mr. Winn's possession.

There I found a black man of the Chamba country, named

St. 3 B

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