When Kings against her join'd,
And faw the Lord was there,
In wild confufion of the mind,
They fled with hasty fear.
When navies tall and proud
Attempt to spoil our peace,
He fends his tempeft roaring loud,
And finks them in the feas.
Oft have our fathers told
Our eyes have often seen,
How well our God fecures the fold,
Where his own fheep have been.
Weftrefs
to his house repair
We'll think upon his wond'rous grace,
And feek deliv'rance there.
The Works of Creation proclaim their Creator.
HE fpacious firmament on high,
With all the blue etherial fky,
-And spangled heavens (a fhining frame!)
Their great original proclaim.
Th' unwearied fun from day to day,
Doth his Creator's power display;
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the evening fhades prevail,
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale,
And nightly to the liftening earth,
Repeats the ftory of her birth:
Whilft all the ftars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
What though in folemn filence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball;
What though no real voice nor found
Amid their radiant orbs be found;
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever finging as they shine,
The hand that made us is divine.”
The Dying Chriftian's Soliloquy.
VITAL fpark of heavenly flame!
Quit, oh quit! this mortal frame!
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,
Oh the pain!the blifs of dying!
Ceafe, fond Nature, cease thy ftrife,
And let me languish into life.
Hark! they whisper; Angels say,
Sifter fpirit come away!
What is this absorbs me quite ?
Steals my fenfes, fhuts my fight;
Drowns my fpirits, draws my breath ?----
Tell me, my foul, can this be death?
The world recedes, it disappears;
Heav'n opens on my eyes! my ears
With founds feraphic ring!
Lend, lend your wings, I mount, I fly!
Oh Grave! where is thy victory?
Oh Death! where is thy fting?
The State of the Glorified Saints. A Dialogue.
2. EXALTED at an Cherubs ftand,
XALTED high, at God's right hand,
With glory crown'd, in white array-
My wondering foul says, Who are they?
A. These are the faints, belov'd of God,
Wash'd are their robes in Jefu's blood;
More spotless than the pureft white,
They shine in uncreated light.
2. Brighter than Angels, lo, they shine, Their glories great, and all divine; Tell me their origin, and say
Their order what, and whence came they?
A. Thro' tribulation great they came,
They bore the cross, and scorn'd the shame;
Within the living temple bleft,
In God they dwell, and on him reft.
2. And does the cross thus prove their gain?
And fhall they thus for ever reign,
Seated on fapphire thrones, to praise
The wonders of redeeming grace?
A. Hunger they ne'er fhall feel again,
Nor burning thirst shall they fuftain;
To wells of living water led,
By God, the Lamb, for ever fed.
2. Unknown to mortal ears, they fing
The fecret glories of their King:
Tell me the fubject of their lays,
And whence their loud exalted praise ?
A. Jefus the Saviour is their theme;
They fing the wonders of his name;
To him afcribing power and grace,
Dominion and eternal praise!
Amen, they cry to him alone
Who dares to fill his father's throne;
They give him glory, and again
Repeat his praife, and fay,-Amen.
|