Exulting, shouted o'er the rising vale.
O Thou! whose word from solid darkness struck
That spark, the sun, strike wisdom from my soul;
My soul which flies to Thee, her trust, her treasure,
As misers to their gold, while others rest.
Through this opaque of nature and of soul,
This double night, transmit one pitying ray,
To lighten and to cheer. Oh! lead my mind
(A mind that fain would wander from its woe,)
Lead it through various scenes of life and death,
And from each scene the noblest truths inspire.
Nor less inspire my conduct than my song;
Teach my best reason, reason; my best will,
Teach rectitude; and fix my firm resolve
Wisdom to wed, and pay her long arrear:
Nor let the vial of thy vengeance, poured
On this devoted head, be poured in vain.
The bell strikes one. We take no note of time
But from its loss: to give it then a tongue
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke,
I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright,
It is the knell of my departed hours.
Where are they? With the years beyond the flood.
It is the signal that demands despatch:
How much is to be done! My hopes and fears
Start up alarmed, and o'er life's narrow verge
Look down-on what? A fathomless abyss;
A dread eternity! how surely mine!
And can eternity belong to me,
Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?
How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful is man!
How passing wonder He who made him such!
Who centred in our make such strange extremes!
From different natures, marvellously mixed,
Connexion exquisite of distant worlds!
Distinguished link in being's endless chain!
Midway from nothing to the Deity!
A beam ethereal, sullied and absorpt!
Though sullied and dishonoured, still divine!
Dim miniature of greatness absolute!
An heir of glory! a frail child of dust!
Helpless immortal! insect infinite!
A worm! a god!-I tremble at myself,
And in myself am lost. At home a stranger, Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast, And wondering at her own. How reason reels! Oh! what a miracle to man is man!
Triumphantly distressed! what joy! what dread! Alternately transported and alarmed!
What can preserve my life? or what destroy? An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave! Legions of angels can't confine me there.
THESE hearts, alas! cleave to the dust
By strong and endless ties;
Whilst every sorrow cuts a string,
And urges us to rise.
When heaven would kindly set us free,
And earth's enchantment end;
It takes the most effectual way,
And robs us of a friend.
Resign, and all the load of life
That moment you remove;
Its heavy load, ten thousand cares,
Devolve on One above-
Who bids us lay our burden down,
On his almighty hand;
Softens our duty to relief,
Our blessings to command.
WAS born at Reading in 1720. He was the author of several hymns, the most beautiful of which is that well-known piece, Placed on the verge of youth. He also published a new version of the Psalms, which is a signal failure, and bears little affinity to the inspired text. died in 1766.
BEHOLD Yon new-born infant, grieved
With hunger, thirst, and pain,
That asks to have the wants relieved;
It knows not to complain.
Aloud the speechless suppliant cries,
And utters as it can
The woes that in its bosom rise,
And speak its nature man.
That infant, whose advancing hour,
Life's various sorrows try,
(Sad proof of sin's transmissive power,)
That infant, Lord, am I.
A childhood yet my thoughts confess,
Though long in years mature,
Unknowing whence I feel distress,
And where, or what, its cure.
Author of good! to Thee I turn:
Thy ever-wakeful eye
Alone can all my wants discern,
Thy hand alone supply.
Oh! let thy fear within me dwell,
Thy love my footsteps guide;
That love shall vainer loves expel,
That fear all fear beside.
And oh! by error's force subdued,
Since oft my stubborn will,
Preposterous shuns the latent good,
And grasps the specious ill,
Not to my wish, but to my want,
Do Thou thy gifts supply;
Unasked, what good Thou knowest, grant,
What ill, though asked, deny.
'Tis enough-the hour is come:
Now within the silent tomb
Let this mortal frame decay,
Mingled with its kindred clay;
Since thy mercies, oft of old
By thy chosen seers foretold,
Faithful now and steadfast prove,
God of truth, and God of love!
Since at length, my aged eye
Sees the day-spring from on high;
Sun of righteousness, to Thee
Lo! the nations bow the knee;
And the realms of distant kings
Own the healing of thy wings.
Those whom death had overspread
With his dark and dreary shade,
Lift their eyes, and from afar
Hail the light of Jacob's Star,
Waiting till the promised ray
Turn their darkness into day.
See the beams intensely shed
Shine o'er Zion's favoured head!
Never may they hence remove,
God of truth, and God of love!
PLACED on the verge of youth, my mind
Life's opening scene surveyed;
I viewed its ills of various kind,
Afflicted and afraid.
But chief my fear the dangers moved,
That virtue's path inclose:
My heart the wise pursuit approved,
But, oh! what toils oppose.
For see! ah see! while yet her ways
With doubtful step I tread,
A hostile world its terrors raise,
Its snares delusive spread.
Oh! how shall I, with heart prepared,
Those terrors learn to meet?
How from the thousand snares to guard
My unexperienced feet?
As thus I mused oppressive sleep
Soft o'er my temples drew
Oblivious veil.-The watery deep,
An object strange and new,
Before me rose: on the wide shore
Observant as I stood,
The gathering storms around me roar,
And heave the boiling flood.
Near, and more near, the billows rise,
E'en now my steps they lave;
And death to my affrighted eyes
Approached in every wave.
What hope, or whither to retreat,
Each nerve at once unstrung;
Chill fear had fettered fast my feet,
And chained my speechless tongue.
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