THE VANITIES OF EARTH.
WHAT is this passing scene?
A feverish April day!
A little sun-a little rain,
And then night sweeps along the plain,
And all things fade away:
Man (soon discussed)
Yields up his trust,
And all his hopes and fears lie with him in the dust.
O, what is beauty's power?
It flourishes and dies;
Will the cold earth its silence break
To tell how soft, how smooth a cheek
Beneath its surface lies?
Mute-mute is all
O'er beauty's fall;
Her praise resounds no more, when mantled in her pall!
The most beloved on earth
Not long survives to day;
So music past is obsolete,
And yet 'twas sweet, 'twas passing sweet,
But now 'tis gone away.
Thus does the shade
In memory fade,
When in the dreary tomb the form beloved is laid.
THE DANGERS OF PROSPERITY.
Then since the world is vain,
And volatile, and fleet,
Why should I lay up earthly joys
Where rust corrupts, and moth destroys,
And cares and sorrows eat?
Why fly from ill
When soon this hand will freeze, this throbbing heart be still?
THE DANGERS OF PROSPERITY,
THE shining shield invites the tyrant's spear,
As if to damp our elevated aims,
And strongly preach humility to man.
O how portentous is prosperity!
How-comet-like! it threatens while it shines! Few years but yield us proofs of death's ambition,
To cull his victims from the fairest fold,
And sheath his shafts in all the pride of life.
When flooded with abundance, purpled o'er
With recent honours, bloomed with every bliss,
Set up in ostentation, made the gaze,
The gaudy centre of the public eye:
When fortune thus has tossed her child in air,
Snatched from the covert of a humble state,
THE SAFETY OF THE HUMBLE.
How often have I seen him dropped at once,
Our morning's envy, and our evening's sigh!
As if her bounties were the signal given,
The flowery wreath to mark the sacrifice,
And call death's arrows on the destined prey.
THE SAFETY OF THE HUMBLE.
GREAT Lord of all things! Power divine!
Breathe on this erring heart of mine
Thy grace serene and pure;
Defend my frail, my erring youth,
And teach me this important truth-
The humble are secure!
Yon tower, which rears its head so high,
And bids defiance to the sky,
Invites the hostile winds:
Yon branching oak, extending wide,
Provokes destruction by its pride,
And courts the fall it finds.
Then let me shun th' ambitious deed,
And all the dangerous paths that lead
To honours falsely won:
Lord, in thy sure protection blest,
Submissive will I ever rest,
And may thy will be done!
THE LIGHT OF DIVINE GRACE.
As morning, with her early breeze,
Breaks up the surface of the seas,
That in their furrows dark with night
Her hand may sow the seeds of light;
So grace can send its breathings o'er
The spirit dark and lost before
And fresh'ning all its depths, prepare
For truth divine to enter there.
THE VICTOR'S WREATH.
THE wreath that crowns the warrior's bier,
Or decks his glory-covered brow,
Too oft is sullied by the tear
That conquest's sword has taught to flow.
Some parent's groan, some orphan's cry,
With victory's brightest laurels twine;
Some broken-hearted mourner's sigh
Bids glory's chaplet blush to shine.
Not so the peaceful Christian's wreath :
Upon the chaplet wove for him,
No weeping mother's sigh shall breathe,
No widow's tear its beauty dim.
52 LINES FOR A PROVIDENT SOCIETY.
With rays far brighter and more pure
Than all the lustre fame has given
The warrior's deed, it shall endure,
And shine amidst the light of heaven.
LINES FOR A PROVIDENT SOCIETY.
SAY, shall the little ant with care and pain
Store in the earth her heaps of hoarded grain,
And make provision for the coming hour
When frosts shall pinch, and winter's skies
shall lower?
And shall not man, rejoicing in his prime,
Think that he, too, must have his wintry time,
When age, or wasting malady, shall dim
The eye, and palsy the once active limb?
Oh! let these insects teach thee to be wise,
And ere, with health and youth, thy vigour flies,
From what the Lord hath given thee, let thy
The means of future sustenance prepare.
Nor in the days of life and strength forget
The vast eternity before thee set.
Lay up for it, for those true riches toil
Which rust shall not corrupt, nor robbers spoil.
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