Oldalképek
PDF
ePub

UNDER MILTON'S PICTURE. He taught the gospel rather than the

law; Three Poets, in three (listant ages born, And forced himself to drive ; but loved Greece, Italy, and England did adorn.

to draw. The first in loftiness of thought sur. For fear but freezes minds; but love, like passed;

heat, The next in majesty; in both the last. Exhales the soul sublime, to seek her The force of Nature could no further go; native seat. To make a third, she joined the former To threats the stubborn sinneroft is hard, two.

Wrapped in his crimes, against the

storm prepared;

But when the milder beams of mercy CHARACTER OF A GOOD PARSON.

play,

He melts, and throws his cumbrous cloak A PARISH priest was of the pilgrim

away. train ;

Lightning and thunder (heaven's artil. An awful, reverend, and religious man. lery) His eyes diflused a venerable grace, As harbingers before the Almighty fly: And charity itself was in his face. Those but proclaim his style, and disapRich was his soul, though his attire was pear; poor

The stiller sounds succeed, and God is (As God hath clothed his own ambassa

there. dor); For such, on earth, his blessed Redeemer

REASON. bore. Of sixty years he seemed; and well might Dim as the borrowed beams of moon and last

stars To sixty more, but that he lived too fast, To lonely, weary, wandering travellers, Refined himself to soul, to curb the sense,

Is reason to the soul : and as on high, And made almost a sin of abstinence.

Those rolling fires discover but the sky, Yet haul his aspect nothing of severe,

Not light us here ; so reasou’s glimmerBut such a face as promised him sincere.

ing ray Nothing reserved or sullen was to see ;

Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way, But sweet regards, and pleasing sanctity. But guide us upward to a better day. Mild was his accent, and his action free. And as those nightly tapers disappear With eloquence innate his tongue was

When day's bright lord ascends our armed ;

hemisphere; Though harsh the precept, yet the peo. So pale grows reason at religion's sight, ple charmed.

So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural For, letting down the golden chain from

light. high, He drew his audience upward to the sky: And oft with holy hymns he charmed

their ears (A music more melodious than the

THOMAS KEN. spheres); For David left him, when he went to rest,

(1637-1711.) His lyre ; and after him he sung the best.

MORNING HYYN, He bore his great commission in his look ; But sweetly tempered awe, and softened AWAKE, my soul, and with the sun all he spoke.

Thy daily course of duty run; He preached the joys of heaven and pains Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise of hell,

To pay thy morning sacrifice. And warned the sinner with becoming

Wake, and list up thyself, my heart, But on eternal mercy loved to dwell. And with the angels bear thy part,

zeal ;

[graphic][merged small][merged small]
[blocks in formation]

Who all night long unwearied sing Yet then from all my griefs, O Lord, High praises to the eternal King. Thy mercy set me free,

Whilst in the confidence of prayer, All praise to Thee, who safe hast kept, My faith took hold on thee. And hast refreshed me whilst I slept; Grant, Lord, when I from death shall For, though in dreadful whirls we hung, wake,

High on the broken wave, I may of endless light partake.

I knew thou wert not slow to hear,

Nor impotent to save. Lord, I my vows to thee renew; Disperse my sins as morning dew; The storm was laid, the winds retired Guard my first springs of thought and Obedient to thy will; will,

The sea, that roared at thy command, And with thyself my spirit fill.

At thy command was still. Direct, control, suggest, this day, In midst of dangers, fears, and death, All I design, or do, or say;

Thy goodness I'll adore, That all my powers, with all their might, And praise thee for thy mercies past, In thy sole glory may unite.

And humbly hope for more. Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; My life, if thou preserv'st my life, Praise him, all creatures here below;

Thy sacrifice shall be; Prise him above, ye heavenly host;

And death, if death must be my doom, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Shall join my soul to thee.

JOSEPH ADDISON.

PARAPHRASE OF PSALM XXIII. (1672–1719.)

The Lord my pasture shall prepare,

And feed me with a shepherd's care ; HYMN.

His presence shall my wants supply,

And guard me with a watchful eye ; How are thy servants blest, O Lord ! My noonday walks he shall attend, How sure is their defence !

And all my midnight hours defend.
Eternal Wisdom is their guide,
Their help Omnipotence.

When in the sultry glebe I faint,
In foreign realms and lands remote,

Or on the thirsty mountain pant,

To fertile vales and dewy meads Supported by thy care, Through burning climes I passed unhurt, where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,

My weary, wandering steps he leads, And breathed in tainted air.

Amid the verdant landscape flow.
Thy mercy sweetened every toil,
Made every region please;

Though in the paths of death I tread, The hoary Alpine hills it warmed,

With gloomy horrors overspread, And smoothed the Tyrrhene seas.

My steadfast heart shall fear no ill;

For thou, O Lord, art with me still : Think, O my soul, devoutly think,

Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, How, with affrighted eyes,

And guide me through the dreadful shade. Thou saw'st the wide extended deep In all its horrors rise.

Though in a bare and rugged way,

Through devions lonely wilds I stray, Confusion dwelt in every face,

Thy bounty shall my wants beguile, And fear in every heart ;

The barren wilderness shall smile, When waves on waves, and gulfs on gulfs, With snuden greensand herbage crowned, O'ercame the pilot's art.

| And streams shall murmur all around.

ALEXANDER POPE.

0, lead me wheresoe'er I go,

Through this day's life or death.

[1688 - 1744)

THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER.
FATHER of all! in every age,

In every clime adored,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,

Jehovah, Jove, or Lord !
Thou great First Cause, least understood,

Who all my sense confined To know but this, that thou art good,

And that myself am blind;
Yet gave me, in this dark estate,

To see the good froin ill;
And, binding nature fast in fate,

Left free the human will.

This day be bread and peace my lot;

All else beneath the sun
Thou know'st if best bestowed or not,

And let thy will be done !
To thee, whose temple is all space,

Whose altar, earth, sea, skies,
One chorus let all beings raise !

All Nature's incense rise !

What conscience dictates to be done,

Or warns me not to do, This teach me more than hell to shun,

That more than heaven pursue.

What blessings thy free bounty gives

Let me not cast away ;
For God is paid when man receives :

To enjoy is to obey.
Yet not to earth's contracted span

Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think thee Lord alone of man,

When thousand worlds are round.

grow ?

Let not this weak, unknowing hand

Presume thy bolts to throw, And deal damnation round the land

On each I judge thy foe.

HAPPINESS. O HAPPINESS ! our being's end and aim! Good, pleasure, ease, content! whate'er

thy name ; That something still, which prompts the

eternal sigh; For which we bear to live or dare to

die ; Which still so near us, yet beyond us

lies, O'erlooked, seen double by the fool, and

wise. Plant of celestial seed ! if dropped be

low, Say, in what mortal soil thou deign'st to Fair opening to some court's propitious

shrine, Or deep with diamonds in the flaming

mine? Twined with the wreaths Parnassian

laurels yield, Or reaped in iron harvests of the field ? Where grows ? where grows it not?

If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the

soil: Fixed to no spot is happiness sincere, 'Tis nowhere to be found, or everywhere. Ask of the learned the way, the learned

are blind; This bids to serve, and that to shun man

kind : Some place the bliss in action, some in

ease; Those call it pleasure, and contentment

these : Some, sunk to beasts, find pleasure end

in pain; Some, swelled to gods, confess e'en vir.

tue vain : Or indolent, ta each extreme they fall,

If I am right, thy grace impart

Still in the right to stay ; If I am wrong. O, teach my heart

To find that better way!

Save me alike from foolish pride,

Or impious discontent, At aught thy wisdom has denied,

Or aught thy goodness lent.

1

Teach me to feel another's woe,

To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show,

That merey show to me.

Mean though I am, not wholly so,

Since quickened by thy breath;

« ElőzőTovább »