MY NATIVE STREAM. When childhood's buoyant tide flow'd bright, Mild Ev'ning with her ling'ring light, And then I said, "Flow tranquil on, I look'd again-when manhood's trace How alter'd now it met my view! A storm swept o'er its limpid course, Its eddying waves were backward driv'n ; The rolling thunder, loud and hoarse, Roar'd dismal through the blacken'd heaven I stood upon its moss-clad brink, O'erhung with shrubs and wild-flow'rs twin'd; And, ah! that stream, I sigh'd to think, Was still the mirror of my mind! CLIO. AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY. O thou! whose balance does the mountains weigh; Whose will the wild tumultuous seas obey; Whose breath can turn those wat'ry worlds to flame, That flame to tempest, and that tempest tame; Earth's meanest son, all trembling, prostrate falls, Thy pow'r, my weakness, may I ever see, Reign o'er my wil!; my passions ebb and flow My love be warm to succour the distress'd, This glorious volume which thy wisdom made! May thoughts of thy dread vengeance shake my soul Grant I may ever at the morning ray, And glow with ardour of consummate love; How ev'ry boist'rous thought in calm subsides! Or leagues of friendship with his saints renew: Can'st thou not shake the centre? Oh control, Subdue by force, the rebel in my soul. Thou, who canst still the raging of the flood, Restrain the various tumults of my blood; Teach me, with equal firmness, to sustain Alluring pleasure, and assaulting pain, O may I pant for thee in each desire! And with strong faith foment the holy fire! Stretch out my soul in hope, and grasp the prize, |