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"To gentle offices of love

"His feet are never slow;

"He views, through mercy's melting eye,
"A brother in a foe.

"Peace from the bosom of his God,
"My peace to him I give!

"And when he kneels before the throne,
"His trembling soul shall live.

"To him protection shall be shown,
"And mercy from above,
"Descend on those who thus fulfil
"The perfect law of love."

MRS. BARBAULD.

IMMORTALITY.

IMMORTAL! ages past, yet nothing gone!
Morn without eve! a race without a goal!
Unshorten'd by progression infinite!
Futurity for ever future! life

Beginning still, where computation ends!
'Tis the description of a Deity!

'Tis the description of the meanest slave.

Immortal! what can strike the sense so strong, As this the soul? it thunders to the thought;

Reason amazes, gratitude o'erwhelms;

No more we slumber on the brink of fate;
Rous'd at the sound, th' exulting soul ascends,
And breathes her native air; an air that feeds
Ambition high, and fans ethereal fires;
Quick-kindles all that is divine within us;
Nor leaves one loitering thought beneath the stars.
Immortal! was but one immortal, how
Would others envy! how would thrones adore

Because 'tis common, is the blessing lost?
How this ties up the bounteous hand of Heaven!
O vain, vain, vain! all else: eternity!
A glorious, and a needful refuge that,
From vile imprisonment in abject views.
'Tis immortality, 'tis that alone,

Amidst life's pains, abasements, emptiness,
The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill.
Eternity depending covers all;

Sets earth at distance, casts her into shades;
Blends her distinction; abrogates her pow'rs;
The low, the lofty, joyous, and severe,
Fortune's dread frowns, and fascinating smiles,
Make one promiscuous, and neglected heap,
The man beneath; if I may call him man,
Whom immortality's full force inspires.
Nothing terrestrial touches his high thought;
Suns shine unseen, and thunders roll unheard,
By minds quite conscious of their high descent,
Their present province, and their future prize,
Divinely darting upward every wish,

Warm on the wing, in glorious absence lost.

Doubt you this truth? why labours your belief? If earth's whole orb by some due-distanc'd eye Was seen at once, her tow'ring Alps would sink And levell'd Atlas leave an even sphere. Thus earth, and all that earthly minds admire, Is swallow'd in eternity's vast round. To that stupendous view when souls awake, o large of late, so mountainous to man, Time's toys subside; and equal all below.

YOUNG.

HYMN.

For Easter Sunday.

AGAIN the Lord of life and light
Awakes the kindling ray;
Unseals the eyelids of the morn,
And pours increasing day.

O what a night was that which wrapt
The heathen world in gloom!
( what a sun which broke this day,
Triumphant from the tomb!

This day be grateful homage paid,
And loud hosannas sung;
Let gladness dwell in ev'ry heart,
And praise on ev'ry tongue.

Ten thousand diff'ring lips shall join
To hail this welcome morn;
Which scatters blessings from its wings
To nations yet unborn.

Jesus, the friend of human kind,
With strong compassion mov'd,
Descended, like a pitying God,
To save the souls he lov'd.

The pow'rs of darkness leagu'd in vain
To bind his soul in death;
He shook their kingdom, when he fell,
With his expiring breath.

Not long the toils of hell could keep
The hope of Judah's line;
Corruption never could take hold

On ought so much divine.

And now his conqu'ring chariot wheels Ascend the lofty skies;

While broke, beneath his pow'rful cross,
Death's iron sceptre lies.

Exalted high at God's right hand,

And Lord of all below,

Through him is pard'ning love dispens'd,

And boundless blessings flow.

And still for erring, guilty man
A brother's pity flows;

And still his bleeding heart is touch'd
With mem'ry of our woes.

To thee, my Saviour and my King,
Glad homage let me give;

And stand prepar'd, like thee to die,

With thee that I may live.

BARBAULD.

HYMN.

Habitual Devotion.

WHILE thee I seek, protecting Power!
Be my vain wishes still'd;
And may this consecrated hour

With better hopes be fill'd.

Thy love the pow'rs of thought bestow'd;
To thee my thoughts would soar ;
Thy mercy o'er my life has flow'd ;-

That mercy I adore!

In each event of life, how clear
Thy ruling hand I see!

Each blessing to my soul more dear,
Because conferr'd by thee.

In ev'ry joy that crowns my days,
In ev'ry pain I bear,

My heart shall find delight in praise,
Or seek relief in pray'r.

When gladness wings my favour'd hour,
Thy love my thoughts shall fill:
Resign'd, when storms of sorrow low'r,
My soul shall meet thy will.

My lifted eye, without a tear,

The low'ring storm shall see ;

My steadfast heart shall know no fear;
That heart will rest on thee!

HELEN MARIA WILLIAMS.

WRITTEN AT MIDNIGHT,

IN A THUNDER STORM.

LET coward Guilt, with pallid Fear,
To shelt'ring caverns fly,
And justly dread the vengeful fate
That thunders through the sky.

Protected by that hand, whose law
The threat'ning storms obey,
Intrepid Virtue smiles secure,
As in the blaze of day.

In the thick cloud's tremendous gloom,
The lightning's lurid glare,
It views the same all-gracious Power
That breathes the vernal air.

Through nature's ever-varying scene,
By different ways pursued,
The one eternal end of Heaven
Is universal good:

With like beneficent effect

O'er flaming ether glows,

P

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