Select poetry; chiefly on subjects connected with religion

Y.
Ye angels who stand round the throne
Yet a few years, or days perhaps

SELECT POETRY.

ADDISON.

How are thy servants blest, O Lord !

How sure is their defence ! Eternal wisdom is their guide ;

Their help, omnipotence.

In foreign realms and lands remote,

Supported by Thy care, Through burning climes I pass'd unhurt,

And breathed untainted air.

Thy mercy sweeten'd ev'ry soil,

Made every region please ;
The hoary Alpine hills it warm’d,

And smooth'd the Tyrrhene seas.

Think, O my soul, devoutly think,

How with affrighted eyes,
Thou saw'st the wide extended deep

In all its horrors rise!

Yet then from all my griefs, O Lord,

Thy mercy set me free,
Whilst in the confidence of prayer,

My soul took hold on Thee.

For though in dreadful whirls we hung

High on the broken wave,
I knew Thou wert not slow to hear,

Nor impotent to save.

The storm was laid, the winds retir’d,

Obedient to Thy will;
The sea that roar'd at Thy command,

At Thy command was still.
In midst of dangers, fears, and death,

Thy goodness I'll adore,
And praise Thee for Thy mercies past,

And humbly hope for more.
My life, if Thou preserv'st my life,

Thy sacrifice shall be ; And death, when death must be my doon,

Shall join my soul to Thee.

II.

When rising from the bed of death,

O’erwhelm'd with guilt and fear,
I see my Maker face to face-

O how shall I appear!
If now while pardon may be found,

And mercy may be sought,
My heart with inward horror shrinks,

And trembles at the thought:
When thou, O Lord ! shall stand disclos'd

In majesty severe,
And sit in judgment on my soul,

Oh how shall I appear!

Then, see the sorrows of my heart,

Ere yet it be too late;
And let my Saviour's dying groans,

Give all those sorrows weight!

For never shall my soul despair,
Thy mercy

procure, Who knows thy only Son has died,

To make that pardon sure !

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