Forgive my treasons, Prince of Grace, Great Advocate! look down and see Peace, my complaints; let every groan Lo, from the everlasting skies, How sweet the voice of pardon sounds! THE HUMBLE INQUIRY: A FRENCH SONNET IMITATED, 1695. Grand Dieu, tes Jugemens, &c. GRACE rules below, and sits enthron'd above, But me, vile wretch, should pitying love embrace Yea, Lord, my guilt to such a vastness grown Thine honour bids avenge thine injur'd name,' Should Heaven grow black, almighty thunder roar, And vengeance blast me, I could plead no more; But own thy justice dying, and adore.' Yet can those bolts of death that cleave the flood To reach a rebel, pierce this sacred shroud, Ting'd in the vital stream of my Redeemer's blood. A HYMN OF PRAISE FOR THREE GREAT SALVATIONS, viz. 1. From the Spanish Invasion, 1588. 2. From the Gunpowder Plot, Nov. 5, 1605. 3. From Popery and Slavery, by King William, of glorious Memory, who landed Nov. 5, 1688. Composed Nov. 5, 1695. INFINITE God, thy counsels stand Or guardian rocks to break the seas. From pole to pole thy name is known, Part of thy church, by thy command, In vain the Spanish ocean roar'd; 'Come,' said the sons of bloody Rome, 'Let us provide new arms from hell,' And down they digg'd through earth's dark womb, Old Satan lent them fiery stores, Beneath the senate and the throne, Thy love beheld the black design, Thy love that guards our island round; Strange! how it quench'd the fiery mine, And crush'd the tempest under ground. THE SECOND PART. ASSUME, my tongue, a nobler strain, Dark as our thoughts our minutes roll, Ran, threatening death through every town. The Roman priest, and British prince, Join'd their best force, and blackest charms, And the fierce troops of neighbouring France Offer'd the service of their arms. 'Tis done, they cried, and laugh'd aloud, But, lo! the great Deliverer sails The happy day, and happy year,* The day that quench'd the burning snare, Now did thine arm, O God of hosts! Now did thine arm shine dazzling bright, The sons of might their hands had lost, And men of blood forgot to fight. Brigades of angels lin❜d the way, And guarded William to his throne; There, ye celestial warriors, stay, And make his palace like your own. Then, mighty God, the earth shall know All hallelujah, heavenly King! And tongues their utmost powers employ, Nov. 5, 1688. |