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THE LEAF.

We all do fade as a Leaf.

Isa. Ixiv. 6.

SEE the leaves around us falling,
Dry and wither'd to the ground;
Thus to thoughtless mortals calling,
In a sad and solemn sound:

Sons of Adam, once in Eden
Blighted when like us he fell,
Hear the lecture we are reading,
"Tis, alas! the truth we tell.

Virgins, much, too much, presuming
On your boasted white and red,
View us, late in beauty blooming,
Number'd now among the dead.
Griping misers, nightly waking,
See the end of all your care;
Fled on wings of our own making,
We have left our owners bare.

Sons of honour, fed on praises,
Flutt'ring high in fancied worth,
Lo! the fickle air, that raises,
Brings us down to parent earth.

Learned sophs, in systems jaded,
Who for new ones daily call,
Cease, at length, by us persuaded,
Every leaf must have its fall!

Youths, tho' yet no losses grieve you,
Gay in health and manly grace,
Let not cloudless skies deceive you,
Summer gives to Autumn place.

Venerable sires, grown hoary,
Hither turn th' unwilling eye,
Think, amidst your falling glory,
Autumn tells a winter nigh.

Yearly in our course returning
Messengers of shortest stay,
Thus we preach this truth concerning,
"Heav'n and earth shall pass away.”

On the Tree of Life eternal,

Man, let all thy hope be staid, Which alone, for ever vernal,

Bears a Leaf that shall not fade.

AN ODE.

The sentiment from the divine Herbert.

SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright, Bridal of earth and sky,

The dew shall weep thy fall to-night;

For thou, alas! must die.

Sweet rose, in air whose odours wave,

And colour charms the eye,

Thy root is ever in its grave,

And thou, alas! must die.

Sweet spring, of days and roses made,
Whose charms for beauty vie,

Thy days depart, thy roses fade,
Thou too, alas! must die.

Be wise then, Christian, while you may, For swiftly time is flying;

The thoughtless man, that laughs to-day, To-morrow will be dying.

THE FLOWERS.

THE HELIOTROPE.

THROUGH all the changes of the day

I turn me to the SUN:

In clear or cloudy skies I say
Alike-Thy will be done!

THE VIOLET.

A LOWLY flow'r, in secret bow'r,

Invisible I dwell;

For blessing made, without parade,
Known only by my smell.

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EMBLEM of him, in whom no stain
The eye of Heav'n could see,
In all their glory, monarchs vain
Are not array'd like me.

THE ROSE.

WITH ravish'd heart that crimson hail,

Which in my bosom glows:

Think how the lily of the vale

Became like Sharon's rose.

THE PRIMROSE.

WHEN Time's dark winter shall be o'er,
His storms and tempests laid,
Like me you'll rise, a fragant flow'r,
But not, like me, to fade.

THE GARDEN.

THE bow'r of innocence and bliss

Sin caus'd to disappear:

Repent, and walk in faith and love--
You'll find an Eden here.

A MORNING HYMN ON EASTER-DAY.

HARK! the shrill herald of the morn

Begins the sons of men to warn,
And bids them all arise,

To celebrate his great renown,
Who sends the light refulgent down,
To bless our longing eyes.

At this the fainting shadows die,

The pow'rs of darkness swiftly fly

Before the morning star;

Pale trembling murder dares not stay, And fiends, abash'd at sight of day,

Back to their den repair.

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