And shall those eyes the wicked realms regard,
Their crimes be great, yet victory their reward?
Shalf these still ravage more and more to reign,
Draw the full net, and cast to fill again?
As watch-men silent sit, I wait to see
How solves my doubt, what speaks the Lord to me."
"Then go," the Lord replies, “suspend thy fears,
And write the vision for a term of years:
Thy foes will feel their turn when those are past,
Wait, though it tarry; sure it comes at last.
'Tis for their rapine, lusts, and thirst of blood,
And all their unprotecting gods of wood,
The Lord is present on his sacred hill,
Cease thy weak doubts, and let the world be still."
Here terrour leaves me; with exalted head,

I breathe fine air, and find the vision fled;
The seer withdrawn, inspir'd, and urg'd to write,
By the warm influence of the sacred sight.

Fix'd on the mount he stood, his measuring reed
Marks the rich realms for Jacob's seed decreed:
He looks with anger, and the nations fly
From the fierce sparklings of his dreadful eye;
He turns, the mountain shakes its awful brow;
Awful he turns, and hills eternal bow.
How glory there, how terrour here, displays
His great unknown, yet everlasting ways!

"I see the sable tents along the strand
Where Cushan wander'd, desolately stand;
And Midian's high pavilions shake with dread,
While the tam'd seas thy rescued nation tread.
What burst the path? what made the Lord engage?
Could waters anger, seas incite thy rage,
That thus thine horses force the foaming tide,
And all the chariots of salvation ride?
Thy bow was bare for what thy mercy swore;
These oaths, that promise, Israel had before.

"The rock that felt thee cleav'd, the rivers flow,
The wondering desert lends them beds below.
Thy might the mountain's heaving shocks confess'd,
High shatter'd Horeb trembled o'er the rest.
Great Jordan pass'd its nether waters by,
Its upper waters rais'd the voice on high:
Safe in the deep we went, the liquid wall
Curling arose, and had no leave to fall.
The Sun effulgent, and the Moon serene,
Stopt by thy will, their heavenly course refrain:
The voice was man's, yet both the voice obey,
Till wars completed close the lengthen'd day.
Thy glittering spears, thy rattling darts prevail,
Thy spears of lightning, and thy darts of hail.
"Twas thou that march'd against their heathen band,
Rage in thy visage, and thy flail in hand;

His writing finished, prophet-like array'd, He brings the burthen on the region laid; His hands a tablet and a volume bear, The tablet threatenings, and the volume prayer; Both for the temple, where, to shun decay, Enroll'd the works of inspiration lay. And awful, oft he stops, or marches slow, While the dull'd nation hears him preach theirwoe. Arriv'd at length, with grave concern for all, He fix'd his table on the sacred wall. [read: 'Twas large inscrib'd, that those who run night "Habakkuk's burthen, by the Lord decreed; For Judah's sins her empire is no more, The fierce Chaldeans bathe her realm in gore." Next to the priest his volume he resign'd, 'Twas prayer, with praises mix'd, to raise the mind; 'Twas facts recounted, which their fathers knew;'T was thou that went before to wound their head,

'Twas power in wonders manifest to view; 'Twas comfort, rais'd on love already past, And hope, that former love returns at last.

The priests within the prophecy convey'd,
The singers tunes to join his anthem made.
Hear, and attend the words: and, holy Thou
That help'd the prophet, help the poet now.

"O, Lord, who rul'st the world, with mortal ear
I've heard thy judgments, and I shake for fear.
O Lord, by whom their number'd years we find,
Ev'n in the midst receive the drooping mind;
Ev'n in the midst thou canst-then make it known,
Thy love, thy will, thy power, to save thine own.
Remember mercy, though thine anger burn,
And soon to Salem bid thy flock return.
O, Lord, who gav'st it with an outstretch'd hand,
We well remember how thou gav'st the land.
"God came from Teman, southward sprung the
flame,

Prom Paron-mount the One that's holy came;
A glittering glory made the desert blaze,
High Heaven was cover'd, Earth was fill'd with
praise.

Dazzling the brightness, not the Sun so bright,
'Twas here the pure substantial fount of light;
Shot from his hand and side in golden streams,
Came forward effluent horny-pointed beams:
Thus shone his coming, as sublimely fair
As bounded nature has been fram'd to bear;
But all his further marks of grandeur hid,
Nor what he could was known, but what he did.
Dire plagues before him ran at his command,
To waste the nations in the promis'd land.
A scorching flame went forth where'er he trod,
And burning fevers were the coals of God.

The captain follow'd where the Saviour led:
Torn from their earth, they feel the desperate

wound,

And power unfounded fails for want of ground.
With village-war thy tribes, where'er they go,
Distress the remnant of the scatter'd foe;
Yet mad they rush'd, as whirling wind descends,
And deem'd for friendless those the Lord befriends.
Thy trampling horse from sea to sea subdue,
The bounding ocean left no more to do.

"O, when I heard what thou vouchsaf'st to win,
With works of wonder must be lost for sin;
I quak'd through fear, the voice forsook my tongue,
Or, at my lips, with quivering accent hung;
Dry leanness entering to my marrow came,
And every loosening nerve unstrung my frame.
How shall I rest, in what protecting shade,
When the day comes, and hostile troops invade!

"Though neither blossoms on the fig appear,
Nor vines with clusters deck the purpling year;
Though all our labours olive-trees belie,
Though fields the substance of the bread deny;
Though flocks are sever'd from the silent fold,
And the rais'd stalls no lowing cattle hold;
Yet shall my soul be glad, in God rejoice,
Yet to my Saviour will I lift my voice;
Yet to my Saviour still my temper sings,
What David set to instruments of strings:
The Lord's my strength, like hinds he makes my
feet,

Yon mount's my refuge, I as safely fleet;
Or (if the song's apply'd) he makes me still
Expect returning to Moriah's hili."

In all this hymn what daring grandeur shines,
What darting glory rays among the lines:

What mountains, earthquakes, clouds, and smokes

are seen,

What ambient fires conceal the Lord within;
What working wonders give the promis'd place,
And load the conduct of a stubborn race!
In all the work a lively fancy flows,
O'er all the work sincere affection glows:
While Truth's firm rein the course of Fancy guides,
And o'er affection zeal divine presides.

Borne on the prophet's wings, methinks I fly
Amongst eternal attributes on high:
And here I touch at Love suprem ly fair,
And now at Power, anon at Mercy there;
So, like a warbling bird, my tunes I raise,

On those green boughs the Tree of Life displays;
Whose twelve fair fruits, each month by turns re-
ceives,

And, for the nations' healing, ope their leaves.
Then be the nations heal'd, for this I sing,
Descending softly from the prophet's wing.
Thou, world, attend the case of Israel; see
'T will thus at large refer to God and thee,
If Love be shown thee, turn thine eyes above,
And pay the duties relative to Love;
If Power be shown, and wonderfully so,
Wonder and thank, adore, and bow below.
If Power that led thee, now no longer lead,
But brow-bent Justice draws the flaming blade;
When Love is scorn'd, when Sin the sword pro-
vokes,

Let tears and prayers avert, or heal the strokes;
If Justice leaves to wound, and thou to groan,
Beneath new lords, in countries not thine own,
Know this for Mercy's act, and let your lays,
Grateful in all, recount the cause of praise:
Then Love returns, and while no sins divide
The firm alliance, Power will shield thy side,
See the grand round of Providence's care,
See realms assisted here, and punish'd there;
O'er the just circle cast thy wondering eyes,
Thank while you gaze, and study to be wise,

HYMN FOR MORNING,

SEE the star that leads the day,
Rising, shoots a golden ray,

To make the shades of darkness go
From Heaven above and Earth below;
And warn us early with the sight,
To leave the beds of silent night;
From an heart sincere and sound,
From its very deepest ground;
Send devotion up on high,
Wing'd with heat to reach the sky.
See the time for sleep has run,
Rise before, or with the Sun:
Lift thy hands, and humbly pray,
The fountain of eternal day;
That, as the light serenely fair,
Illustrates all the tracts of air;
The Sacred Spirit so may rest,
With quickening beams, upon thy breast;
And kindly clean it all within,
From darker b.emishes of sin;
And shine with grace until we view
The realm it gilds with glory too.
See the day that dawns in air,
Brings along its toil and care:

VOL. IX.

From the lap of night it springs,
With heaps of business on its wings;
Prepare to meet them in a mind,
That bows submissively resign'd;
That would to works appointed fall,
That knows that God has order'd all.
And whether, with a small repast,
We break the sober morning fast;
Or in our thoughts and houses lay
The future methods of the day;
Or early walk abroad to meet
Our business, with industrious feet:
Whate'er we think, whate'er we do,
His glory still be kept in view.
O, giver of eternal bliss,
Heavenly Father, grant me this;
Grant it all, as well as me,
All whose hearts are fix'd on thee;
Who revere thy Son above,
Who thy Sacred Spirit love,

HYMN FOR NOON.
THE Sun is swiftly mounted high,
It glitters in the southern sky;
Its beams with force and glory beat,
And fruitful Earth is fill'd with heat.
Father, also with thy fire

Warm the cold, the dead desire,
And make the sacred love of thee,
Within my soul, a sun to me.
Let it shine so fairly bright,
That nothing else be took for light;
That worldly charms be seen to fade,
And in its lustre find a shade.
Let it strongly shine within,
To scatter all the clouds of sin,

That drive when gusts of passion rise,
And intercept it from our eyes.
Let its glory more than vie
With the Sun that lights the sky:
Let it swiftly mount in air,
Mount with that, and have it there;
And soar, with more aspiring flight,
To realms of everlasting light.
Thus, while here I'm forc'd to be,
I daily wish to live with thee;
And feel that union which thy love
Will, after death, complete above.
From my soul I send my prayer,
Great Creator, bow thine ear;
Thou, for whose propitious sway
The world was taught to see the day;
Who spake the word, and Earth begun,
And show'd its beauties in the Sun;
With pleasure I thy creatures view,
And would, with good affection too;
Good affection sweetly free,
Loose from them, and move to thee;
O, teach me, due returns to give,
And to thy glory let me live;

And then my days shall shine the more,
Or pass more blessed than before.

HYMN FOR EVENING,

THE beam-repelling mists arise,
And evening spreads obscurer skies:

DD

404

Bow with mercy, bow thine ear,
While we sing thy praises here;
Son Eternal, ever-bless'd,
Resting on the Father's breast,
Whose tender love for all provides,
Whose power over all presides;
Bow with pity, bow thine ear;
While we sing thy praises, hear!

Thou, by pity's soft extreme,
Mov'd, and won, and set on flame,
Assum'd the form of man, and fell
In pains, to rescue man from Hell;
How bright thine humble glories rise,
And match the lustre of the skies,
From Death and Hell's dejected state
Arising, thou resum'd thy seat,
And golden thrones of bliss prepar'd
Above, to be thy saints' reward.

How bright thy glorious honours rise,
And with new lustre grace the skies!
For thee, the sweet seraphic choir
Raise the voice, and tune the lyre,
And praises with harmonious sound
Through all the highest Heaven rebound.
O make our notes with theirs agree,
And bless the souls that sing of thee!
To thee the churches here rejoice,
The solemn organs aid the voice:
To sacred roofs the sound we raise,
The sacred roofs resound thy praise:
And while our notes in one agree,
O! bless the church that sings to thee!

ON HAPPINESS IN THIS LIFE.

THE morning opens, very freshly gay,
And life itself is in the month of May.
With green my fancy paints an arbour o'er,
And flowerets with a thousand colours more;
Then falls to weaving that, and spreading these,
And softly shakes them with an easy breeze.
With golden fruit adorns the bending shade,
Or trails a silver water o'er its bed.
Glide, gentle water, still more gently by,
While in this summer-bower of bliss I lye,
And sweetly sing of sense-delighting flames,
And nymphs and shepherds, soft invented names;
Or view the branches which around me twine,
And praise their fruit, diffusing sprightly wine;
Or find new pleasures in the world to praise,
And still with this return adorn my lays;
"Range round your gardens of eternal spring,
Go, range my senses, while I sweetly sing:"
In vain, in vain, alas! seduc'd by ill,
And acted wildly by the force of will!
I tell my soul, it will be constant May,
And charm a season never made to stay;
My beauteous arbour will not stand a storm,
The world but promises, and can't perform:
Then fade, ye leaves; and wither, all ye flowers;
I'll doat no longer in enebanted bowers;
But sadly mourn, in melancholy song,
The vain conceits that held my soul so long.
The lusts that tempt us with delusive show,
And sin brought forth for everlasting woe..
Thus shall the notes to sorrow's object rise,
While frequent rests procure a place for sighs;

And, as I moan upon the naked plain,
Be this the burthen closing every strain:
"Return, my senses; range no more abroad;
He'll only find his bliss who seeks for God."

EXTACY..

THE fleeting joys, which all affords below,
Work the fond heart with unperforming show;
The wish that makes our happier life complete,
Nor grasps the wealth nor honours of the great;
Nor loosely sails on Pleasure's easy stream,
Nor gathers wreaths from all the groves of Fame;
Weak man, whose charms to these alone confine,
Attend my prayer, and learn to make it thine.

From thy rich throne, where circling trains of

light

Make day that's endless, infinitely bright;
Thence, heavenly Father! thence with mercy dart
One beam of brightness to my longing heart.
Dawn through the mind, drive Errour's clouds away,
And still the rage in Passion's troubled sea;
That the poor banish'd soul, serene and free,
May rise from Earth, to visit Heaven and thee:
Come, Peace divine! shed gently from above,
Inspire my willing bosom, wondrous Love;
Thy purpled pinions to my shoulders tye,
And point the passage where I want to fly.

But whither, whither now! what powerful fire
With this bless'd influence equals my desire?
I rise (or Love, the kind deluder, reigns,
And acts in fancy such enchanted scenes);
Earth lessening flies, the parting skies retreat,
The fleecy clouds my waving feathers beat;
And now the Sun and now the stars are gone,
Yet still methinks the Spirit bears me on,
Where tracts of ether purer blue display,
And edge the golden realm of native day.

Oh, strange enjoyment of a bliss unseen!
Ch, ravishment! Oh, sacred rage within!
Tumultuous pleasure, rais'd on peace of mind,
Sincere, excessive, from the world refin'd!
I see the light that veils the throne on high,
A light unpierc'd by man's impurer eye;
I hear the words, that issuing thence proclaim,
"Let God's attendants praise his awful name!"
Then heads unnumber'd bend before the shrine,
Mysterious seat of Majesty divine!
And hands unnumber'd strike the silver string,
And tongues unnumber'd Hallelujah sing.
See, where the shining seraphims appear,
And sink their decent eyes with holy fear.
See flights of angels all their feathers raise,
And range the orbs, and, as they range, they praise;
Behold the great apostles! sweetly met,
And high on pearls of azure ether set.
Behold the prophets, full of heavenly fire,
With wandering finger wake the trembling lyre;
And hear the martyrs' tune, and all around
The church triumphant makes the region sound.
With harps of gold, with boughs of ever-green,
With robes of white, the pious throngs are seen;
Exalted anthems all their hours employ,
And all is music, and excess of joy.

Charm'd with the sight, I long to bear a part;
The pleasure flutters at my ravish'd heart.
Sweet saints and angels of the heavenly choir,
If love has warm'd you with celestial fire,