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WISDOM! if thy foft controul
Can foothe the fickness of the foul,
Can bid the warring paffions cease,
And breathe the calm of tender peace;
Wisdom! I blefs thy gentle fway,
And ever, ever will obey.

But if thou com'ft with frown auftere
To nurfe the brood of care and fear;
To bid our sweetest paffions die,
And leave us in their room a figh;
Or if thine afpe&t ftern have pow'r
To wither each poor tranfient flow'r
That cheers this pilgrimage of woe,
And dry the fprings whence hope should flow;
Wisdom, thine empire I disclaim,
Thou empty boaft of pompous name!
In gloomy thade of cloifters dwell,
But never haunt my cheerful cell.
Hail to pleafure's frolic train!
Hail to fancy's golden reign!
Feftive mirth, and laughter wild,
Free and fportful as the child!
Hope with eager fparkling eyes,
And eafy faith, and fond surprise!
Let thefe, in fairy colours dreft,
For ever fhare my careless breaft
Then, tho' wife I may not be,
The wife themselves fhall envy me,

$.60. Defpondency. An Ode. BURNS.

OPPRESS'D with grief, opprefs'd with care,

A burden more than I can bear,

I fit me down and figh:
O life! thou art a galling load,
Along a rough, a weary road,
To wretches fuch as I!
Dim-backward as I caft my view,
What fick'ning scenes appear!

What forrows yet may pierce me thro',
Too justly I may fear!

Still caring, defpairing,
Muft be my bitter doom;
My woes here fhall clofe ne'er,
But with the closing tomb!

Happy! ye fons of bufy life,
Who, equal to the bustling ftrife,

No other view regard!
Ev'n when the wifhed end's denied,
Yet, while the bufy means are plied,
They bring their own reward:
Whilft I, a hope-abandon'd wight,
Unfitted with an aim,
Meet ev'ry fad returning night
And joyless morn the fame.
You, buttling and justling,
Forget each grief and pain;

J, liftlefs yet restiofs.
Find ev'ry profpect vain.

How bleft the Solitary's lot, Who, all-forgetting, all forgot, Within his humble cell,

The cavern wild with tangling roots,
Sits o'er his newly-gather'd fruits,
Befide his cryftal well!

Or haply to his ev'ning thought,
By unfrequented stream,

The ways of men are diftant brought, faint-collected dream:

A

While praifing, and raifing

His thoughts to Heav'n on high
As wand'ring, meand'ring,
He views the folemn sky,

Than I, no lonely Hermit plac'd
Where never human footstep trac'd,
Lefs fit to play the part,

The lucky moment to improve,
And just to ftop, and just to move,
With felf-respecting art;

But ah! thofe pleasures, loves, and joys,
Which I too keenly taste,
The Solitary can despise,
Can want, and yet be bleft!

He needs not, he heeds not,
Or human love or hate;
Whilft I here, must cry here,
At perfidy ingrate!

Oh! enviable early days,

When dancing thoughtless Pleafure's maze
To Care, to Guilt unknown!
How ill exchang'd for riper times,
To feel the follies or the crimes

Of others, or my own!
Ye tiny elves, that guiltless sport
Like linnets in the bush,
Ye little know the ills ye court,
When manhood is your wish!
The loffes, the croffes,

That active man engage;
The fears all, the tears all,
Of dim declining age!

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How by himself infenfibly betray'd!
In our own ftrength unhappily fecure,
Too little cautious of the adverfe pow'r;
And, by the blaft of self-opinion mov'd,
We with to charm, and feek to be belov'd.
On pleafure's flow'ry brink we idly ftray,
Mafters as yet of our returning way:
Seeing no danger, we difarm our mind,
And give our conduct to the waves and wind:
Then in the flow'ry mead, or verdant shade,
To wanton dalliance negligently laid,
We weave the chaplet, and we crown the bowl,
And fmiling fee the nearer waters roll;
Till the frong gufts of raging paffion rife,
Till the dire tempeft mingles earth and skies;
And, fwift into the boundlefs ocean borne,
Our foolith conâdence too late we mourn:

Round

Round our devoted heads the billows beat;
And from our troubled view the leffen'd lands
retreat.

$62. A Paraphrafe on the latter Part of the
Sixth Chapter of St. Matthew. THOMSON.
WHEN my breaft labours with oppreffive care,
And o'er my check defcends the falling tear;
While all iny warring paffions are at ftrife,
Oh let me liften to the words of life!
Raptures deep-felt his doctrine did impart,
And thus he rais'd from earth the drooping heart:

Think not, when all your fcanty ftores afford
Is fpread at once upon the fparing board;
Think not, when worn the homely robe appears,
While on the roof the howling tempeft bears;
What farther fhall this feeble life fuftain,

And what fhall clothe thefe thiv'ring limbs again.
Say, does not life its nourishment exceed >
And the fair body its invefting weed?
Behold! and look away your low defpair-
See the light tenants of the barren air:
To them nor ftores nor granaries belong,
Nought but the woodland and the pleasing fong;
Yet your kind heav'nly Father bends his eye
On the leaft wing that flits along the sky.
To him they fing when fpring renews the plain,
To him they cry in winter's pinching reign;
Nor is their mufic nor their plaint in vain:
He hears the gay and the distressful call,
And, with unsparing bounty, fills them all.

Obferve the rifing lily's fnowy grace,
Obferve the various vegetable race;
They neither toil nor fpin, but careless grow,
Yet fee how warm they bluth! how bright they
glow!

What regal veftments can with them compare?
What king fo fhining, or what queen so fair?

If ceafelefs thus the fowls of heaven he feeds,
If o'er the fields fuch lucid robes he fpreads,
Will he not care for you, ye faithless, say?
Is he unwife? or are ye lefs than they?

$63. Songs of Praife. WATTS.
A general Song of Praije to God.
HOW glorious is our heav'nly King,
Who reigns above the sky!
How fhall a child prefume to fing
His dreadful Majesty?

How great his pow'r is, none can tell,
Nor think how large his grace;
Not men below, nor faints that dwell
On high before his face.

Not angels, that ftand round the Lord,
Can fearch his fecret will!
But they perform his heav'nly word,
And fing his praises still.

Then let me join this holy train,
And my first off rings bring;
Th' eternal God will not difdain
To hear an infant fing.

My heart refolves, my tongue obeys;
And angels fhall rejoice

To hear their mighty Maker's praise
Sound from a feeble voice.

Praise for Creation and Providence.
I SING th'almighty pow'r of God,
That made the mountains rife ;
That spread the flowing feas abroad,
And built the lofty kies!

I fing the Wisdom that ordain'd
The fun to rule the day;
The moon fhines full at his command,
And all the stars obey.

I fing the goodness of the Lord,

That fill'd the earth with food;
He form'd the creatures with his word,
And then pronounc'd them good.
Lord, how thy wonders are difplay'd,
Where'er I turn mine eye!
If I furvey the ground I tread,
Or gaze upon the fky!

There's not a plant or flow'r below

But makes thy glories known;
And clouds arife, and tempefts blow,
By order from thy throne.
Creatures (as num'rous as they be)
Are fubject to thy care;
There's not a place where we can flce,
But God is prefent there.

In Heav'n he shines with beams of love,
With wrath in hell beneath!

'Tis on his earth I ftand or move,

And 'tis his air I breathe.
His hand is my perpetual guard;
He keeps me with his eye:
Why should I then forget the Lord,
Who is for ever nigh?

Praife to God for our Redemption.
BLEST be the wifdom and the pow'r,
The juftice and the grace,
That join'd in counfel to reftore
And fave our ruin'd race.

Our father ate forbidden fruit,
And from his glory fell;
And we his children thus were brought
To death, and near to hell.
Bleft be the Lord that sent his Son

To take our flesh and blood;
He for our lives gave up his own,

To make our peace with God.
He honour'd all his Father's laws,
Which we have difobey'd;
He bore our fins upon the cross,
And our full random paid.
E 4

Behold

Behold him rising from the grave;

Behold him rais'd on high:
He pleads his merit, there to fave
Tranfgreffors doom'd to die.

There on a glorious throne he reigns,
And by his pow'r divine
Redeems us from the flavifh chains

Of Satan and of fin.

Thence fhall the Lord to judgment come,

And with a fov'reign voice
Shall call and break up ev'ry tomb,
While waking faints rejoice.

O may

I then with joy appear

Before the Judge's face!

And, with the blefs'd affembly there,
Sing his redeeming grace!

Praise for Mercies Spiritual and Temporal.
WHENE'ER I take my walks abroad,
How many poor I fee!
What shall I render to my God
For all his gifts to me!

Not more than others I defurve,

Yet God has giv'n me more;
For I have food while others ftarve,
Or beg from door to door.
How many children in the street
Half naked I behold!

While I am cloth'd from head to feet,
And cover'd from the cold!

While fome poor wietches fcarce can tell
Where they may lay their head,
I have a home wherein to dwell,
And reft upon my bed.

While others early learn to fwear,

And curfe, and lie, and steal,

Lord, I am taught thy name to fear,
And do thy holy will.

Are these thy favours, day by day,

To me above the reft?

Then let me love thee more than they,
And try to ferve thee beft.

Praife for Birth and Education in a Chriftian Land.

GREAT God! to thee my voice I raise,
To thee my youngest hours belong;
I would begin my life with praife,
Till growing years improve the fong.
'Tis to thy fov'reign grace I owe
That I was born on British ground;
Where ftreams of heav'nly mercy flow,
And words of weet falvation found.
I would not change my native land
For rich Peru, with all her gold:
A nobler prize lies in my hand
Than Eaft or Weftern Indics hold.
How do I pity thofe that dwell
Where ignorance or darknefs reigns!

They know no heav'n, they fear no hell,
Thofe endless joys, thofe endless pains.

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Thy glorious promises, O Lord,
Kindle my hopes and my defire;
While all the preachers of thy word
Warn me to 'fcape eternal fire.

Thy praife fall ftill employ my breath,
Since thou haft mark'd my way to heav'n;
Nor will I run the road to death,
And waste the bleffings thou haft giv'n.
Praife for the Gospel.

LORD, I afcribe it to thy grace,
And not to chance, as others do,
That I was born of Chriftian race,
And not a Heathen or a Jew.

What would the ancient Jewish kings
And Jewish prophets once have giv’n,
Could they have heard thofe glorious things
Which Chrift reveal'd and brought from heav'n!
How glad the Heathens would have been,
That worship'd idols, wood and stone,
If they the book of God had seen,
Or Jefus and his gospel known!
Then, if this gospel I refufe,
How fhall I e'er lift up mine eyes!
For all the Gentiles and the Jews
Againft me will in judgment rise.

Praife to God for learning to read.
THE praifes of my tongue

I offer to the Lord,

That I was taught, and learnt so young,
To read his holy word.

That I am brought to know
The danger I was in;
By nature, and by practice too,
A wretched flave to fin.
That I am led to fee

I can do nothing well;
And whither fhall a finner fice
To fave himfelf from hell?

Dear Lord, this book of thine
Informs me where to go
For grace to pardon all my fin,
And make me holy too.

Here I can read and learn,

How Chrift, the Son of God, Did undertake our great concern; Our ranfom coft his blood.

And now he reigns above,

He fends his Spirit down

To fhew the wonders of his love,
And make his gospel known.

O may that Spirit teach,

And make my heart receive,

Thofe truths, which all thy fervants preach, And all thy faints believe.

Then fhall I praife the Lord,

In a more cheerful frain,

That I was taught to read his word,

And have not learnt in vain.

64. The Excellency of the Bible demonftrated. | § 66. Solemn Thoughts concerning God and Death.

WATTS.

GREAT God, with wonder and with praife THERE is a God that reigns above,

On all thy works I look;

But ftill thy wifdom, pow'r, and grace,
Shine brightest in thy book.

The ftars, that in their courfes roll,
Have much inftruction given;
But thy good word informs my foul
How I may climb to heaven.
The fields provide me food, and fhew
The goodness of the Lord;
But fruits of life and glory grow
In thy moft holy word.

Here are my choiceft treasures hid,
Here my best comfort lies:
Here my defires are fatisfied,

And hence my hopes arife.
Lord, make me understand thy law,
Shew what my faults have been;
And from thy gospel let me draw
Pardon for all my fin.

Here would I learn how Chrift has died
To fave my foul from hell:
Not all the books on earth befide
Such heav'nly wonders tell,

Then let me love my Bible more,
And take a fresh delight

By day to read thefe wonders o'er,
And meditate by night.

§ 65. The All-feeing God. WATTS.

ALMIGHTY God, thy piercing eye

Strikes thro' the fhades of night,
And our most secret actions lie
All open to thy fight.

There's not a fin that we commit,
Nor wicked word we fay,
But in thy dreadful book 'tis writ,
Against the judgment-day.

And muft the crimes that I have done
Be read and publish'd there?
Be all expos'd before the Sun,
While men and angels hear?
Lord, at thy foot afham'd I lie;
Upward I dare not look:
Pardon my fins before I die,

And blot them from thy book.

Remember all the dying pains
That my Redeemer felt;

And let his blood wash out my stains,
And anfwer for my guilt.
O may I now for ever fear

T'indulge a finful thought,
Since the great God can fee and hear,
And writes down ev`ry fault.

WATTS,

Lord of the heav'ns, and earth, and feas:

I fear his wrath, I afk his love,
And with my lips I fing his praifc.

There is a law which he has writ,
To teach us all what we must do:
My foul, to his commands fubmit,
For they are holy, just, and true.
There is a gofpel of rich grace,
Whence finners all their comforts draw:
Lord, I repent, and feek thy face,
For I have often broke thy law.
There is an hour when I muft die,
Nor do I know how foon 'twill come;
A thoufand children, young as 1,
Are call'd by death to hear their doom.
Let me improve the hours I have,
Before the day of grace is fled :
There's no repentance in the grave,
Nor pardons offer'd to the dead.

Just as the tree, cut down, that fell
To north or fouthward, there it lies;
So man departs to heav'n or hell,
Fix'd in the ftate wherein he dies.

§ 67. Heaven and Hell. WATTS.

THERE is beyond the sky

A heav'n of joy and love;

And holy children, when they die,
Go to that world above.

There is a dreadful hell,

And everlafting pains;
There finners muft with devils dwell,
In darkness, fire, and chains.
Can fuch a wretch as I

Efcape this curfed end?

And may I hope, whene'er I die,
I fhall to heav'n afcend?
Then will I read and pray,

While I have life and breath;
Left I fhould be cut off to-day,
And fent to eternal death.

§ 68. The Advantages of early Religion. WATTS. HAPPY the child whofe tender years

Receive instructions well;
Who hates the finner's path, and fears
The road that leads to hell.
When we devote our youth to God,

'Tis pleafing in his eyes;

A flow'r, when offer'd in the bud,
Is no vain facrifice.

'Tis easier work, if we begin
To fear the Lord betimes;
While finners that grow old in fin
Are harden'd in their crimes.

*Twill fave us from a thousand snares, To mind religion young;

Grace will preferve our following years, And make our virtue ftrong.

To thee, almighty God, to thee,

Our childhood we refign; "Twill pleafe us to look back and fee

That our whole lives were thine. Let the fweet work of pray'r and praise Employ my youngest breath; Thus I'm prepar'd for longer days, Or fit for early death.

69. The Danger of Delay. WATTS. WHY fhould I fay, " 'Tis yet too foon "To feck for Heav'n, or think of death?" A flow'r may fade before 'tis noon, And I this day may lose my breath. If this rebellious heart of mine Defpife the gracious calls of Heaven, I may be harden'd in my sin, And never have repentance given. What if the Lord grow wroth, and swear, While I refuse to read and pray, That he'll refuse to lend an ear To all my groans another day! What if his dreadful anger burn, While I refuse his offer'd grace, And all his love to fury turn, And strike me dead upon the place! 'Tis dang'rous to provoke a God! His pow'r and vengeance none can tell: One ftroke of his almighty rod Shall fend young finners quick to hell. Then 'twill for ever be in vain

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cry for pardon and for To wish I had my time again, Or hope to fee my Maker's face!

70. Examples of Early Piety. WATTS. WHAT blefs'd examples do I find Writ in the word of truth,

Of children that began to mind
Religion in their youth!

Jefus who reigns above the sky,
And keeps the world in awe,
Was once a child as young as I,
And kept his Father's law.

At twelve years old he talk'd with men,
(The Jews all wond'ring stand)
Yet he obey'd his mother then,
And came at her command.
Children a fweet hofanna fung,

And blefs'd their Saviour's name!
They gave him honour with their tongue,
While fcribes and priests blafpheme.
Samuel the child was wean'd and brought
To wait upon the Lord;
Young Timothy betimes was taught
To know his holy word.

Then why should I so long delay
What others learnt fo foon?
I would not pafs another day
Without this work begun.

$71. Again Lying. WATTS.
'Tis a lovely thing for youth
To walk betimes in wifdom's way;
To fear a lie, to fpeak the truth,
That we may truft to all they fay.
But liars we can never truft,
Tho' they should speak the thing that's true
And he that does one fault at firft,
And lies to hide it, makes it two.
How God abhors deceit and wrong?
Have we not known, nor heard, nor read,
How Ananias was truck dead,
Caught with a lie upon his tongue?
So did his wife Sapphira die,
When she came in, and grew so bold
As to confirm that wicked lie
That just before her husband told.

The Lord delights in them that speak
The words of truth; but ev'ry liar
Muft have his portion in the lake
That burns with brimftone and with fire.
Then let me always watch my lips,
Left I be ftruck to death and hell,
Since God a book of reck'ning keeps
For ev'ry lie that children tell.

$72. Against Quarrelling and Fighting. WATTS

ET dogs delight to bark and bite,

LE

For God hath made them fo;
Let bears and lions growl and fight,
For 'tis their nature too :
But, children, you fhould never let
Such angry paffions rife;
Your little hands were never made
To tear each other's eyes.

Let love through all your actions run,
And all your words be mild;
Live like the blessed Virgin's Son,
That sweet and lovely Child.
His foul was gentle as a lamb :

And, as his ftature grew,
He grew in favour both with man
And God his Father too.

Now, Lord of all, he reigns above;
And from his heav'nly throne
He fees what children dwell in love,
And marks them for his own.

$73. Love between Brothers and Sifters.
WATTS.

WHATEVER brawls difturb the street,
There should be peace at home;
Where fifters dwell, and brothers meet,
Quarrels fhould never come.

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