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Come waft a stranger thro' the skies;
FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee,
The calm retreat, the silent shade,
There, if thy Spirit touch the soul,
Oh, with what peace, and joy, and love,
There like the nightingale she pours
Her solitary lays,
Nor asks a witness of her song,
Nor thirsts for human praise.
Author and guardian of my life,
What thanks I owe thee, and what love,
A boundless, endless store,
Shall echo through the realms above
Praise to Jehovah.
SING to the Lord with joyful voice,
With solemn fear and sacred joy ;
His pow'rful word, which all things made,
We are his people, we his care,
Our souls, and all our mortal frame;
We'll crowd thy gates with thankful songs,
Wide as the world is thy command;
Firm as a rock thy truth must stand,
THE VIRGIN'S CRADLE-HYMN.
SLEEP, sweet babe! my cares beguiling:
If thou sleep not, mother mourneth,
THE CHAPEL OF WILLIAM TELL.
MARK this holy chapel well!
The Birth-place, this, of WILLIAM TELL,
Here first, an infant to her breast,
Him his loving mother prest;
And kiss'd the babe, and bless'd the day,
"Vouchsafe him health, O God! and give
The child thy servant still to live!"
God gave him reverence of laws,
Yet stirring bloed in Freedom's cause-
The eye of the Hawk, and fire therein!
To Nature and to Holy Writ
Alone did God the boy commit:
Where flash'd and roar'd the torrent, oft
The straining oar and chamois chase
Had form'd his limbs to strength and grace.
On wave and wind the boy would toss,
AT A SOLEMN MUSIC.
BLEST pair of Sirens, pledges of heaven's joy,
With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee ;
Singing everlastingly :
That we on earth, with undiscording voice,
As once we did, till disproportion'd sin
Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din Broke the fair music that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motions In perfect diapason, whilst they stood
In first obedience, and their state of good.
O, may we soon again renew that song,
And keep in tune with heaven, till God ere long
To his celestial concert us unite,
To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light!
THE BURIAL ANTHEM.
BROTHER, thou art gone before us,
From the burthen of the flesh,
And from care and fear releas'd,
The toilsome way thou'st travell'd o'er,
But Christ hath taught thy languid feet
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.
Sin can never taint thee now,
Nor doubt thy faith assail,
Nor thy meek trust in Jesus Christ
And the Holy Spirit fail:
And there thou'rt sure to meet the good,
"Earth to earth," and "dust to dust,"
So we lay the turf above thee now,