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And hafte the time when, vanquish'd by thy pow'r,

Death fhall expire, and fin defile no more!


But, oh advent'rous Mufe, reftrain thy flight,
Dare not the blaze of uncreated light!

Before whofe glorious throne with dread furprize,
Th' adoring feraph veils his dazzled eyes;
Whofe pure effulgence, radiant to excess,
No colours can defcribe, or words exprefs!
All the fair beauties, all the lucid ftores,
Which o'er thy works thy hand refplendent pours;
Feeble, thy brighter glories to display,
Pale as the moon before the folar ray!

See on his throne the Hebrew monarch plac'd,
In all the pomp of the luxuriant east !

While mingling gems a borrow'd day unfold,
And the rich purple waves, emboss'd with gold;
Yet mark this scene of painted grandeur yield
To the fair lilly that adorns the field!
Obfcur'd, behold that fainter lilly lies,


By the rich bird's inimitable dyes;

Yet thefe furvey, confounded and outdone

By the fuperior luftre of the fun;

The Manucodota, or bird of paradise, feen in the Spice-Islands.


That fun himself withdraws his leffen'd beam

From Thee, the glorious author of his frame!
Tranfcendent pow'r! fole arbiter of fate!
How great thy glory! and thy, bliss how great!
To view from thy exalted throne above,
(Eternal fource of light, and life, and love!)
Unnumber'd creatures draw their smiling birth,
To blefs the heav'ns, or beautify the earth;
While fyftems roll, obedient to thy view,
And worlds rejoice-which Newton never knew!
Then raise the fong, the gen'ral anthem raise,
And fwell the concert of eternal praise !
Affift ye orbs that form this boundless whole,
Which in the womb of fpace unnumber'd roll;
Ye planets, who compofe our leffer fcheme,
And bend, concertive, round the folar frame;
Thou eye of nature! whofe extenfive ray,
With endless charms adorns the face of day;
Confenting raise th' harmonious joyful found,
And bear his praises thro' the vaft profound:
His praise, ye winds, that fan the chearful air,
Swift as ye pass along your pinions bear!
His praise let ocean thro' her realms display,
Far as her circling billows can convey!
His praife, ye mifty vapours, wide diffuse,
In rains defcending, or in milder dews;


His praifes whifper, ye majestic trees,
As your tops ruftle to the vocal breeze!
His praife around, ye flow'ry tribes exhale,
Far as your sweets embalm the spicy gale!
His praife ye dimpled ftreams, to earth reveal,
As pleas'd ye murmur thro' the flow'ry vale.
His praife ye feather'd choirs diftinguifh'd fing,
As to your notes the tuneful forefts ring!
His praife proclaim, ye monfters of the deep,
Who in the vaft abyfs your revels keep!
Or ye fair natives of our earthly fcene,

Who range the wilds, or haunt the pasture green!
Nor thou, vain lord of earth, with careless ear,
The univerfal hymn of worship hear!

But ardent in the facred chorus join,
Thy foul tranfported with the task divine!

While by his works th' Almighty is confess'd,
Supremely glorious, and fupremely bless'd!

Great Lord of life! from whom this humble frame
Derives the pow'r to fing thy holy name,
Forgive the lowly mufe, whofe artless lay
Has dar'd thy facred attributes furvey!
Delighted oft thro' nature's beauteous field,
Has the ador'd thy Wisdom bright reveal'd;
Oft have her wishes aim'd the fecret fong,
But awful rev'rence ftill with-held her tongue :


Yet as thy bounty lent the reas'ning beam,
As feels my conscious breaft thy vital flame,
So, bleft Creator, let thy fervant pay
His mite of gratitude this feeble way,
Thy Goodness own, thy Providence adore,
He yields thee only-what was thine before!




HESE are thy glorious works, parent of good,
Almighty, thine this univerfal frame,

Thus wondrous fair; thyfelf how wondrous then!
Unfpeakable, who fitt'st above these heav'ns,
To us invifible, or dimly feen

In these thy loweft works; yet these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine.
Speak ye who beft can tell, ye fons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with fongs
And choral fymphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heav'n,
On earth join all ye creatures to extol

Him firft, him laft, him midft, and without end.
Fairest of ftars, laft in the train of night,

If better thou belong not to the dawn,

Sure pledge of day, that crown'ft the fmiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praife him in thy fphere,
While day arifes, that fweet hour of prime.

Thou fun, of this great world both eye and foul,
Acknowledge him thy greater: found his praise
In thy eternal courfe, both when thou climb'ft,
And when high noon haft gain'd, and when thou fall'st.
Moon, that now meet'ft the orient fun, now fly'st

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