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The lightning on thy steps attend,
And thund'ring clouds beneath thee bend.
Even 'midst the silence of the grove,
We hear the whispers of thy love;
The hill and vale their God proclaim,
The mountain echoes back thy name;
And as the solemn whisper dies,
The breezes bear to it the skies.

How sweet amidst those wilds to stray,
At morning hour, or close of day;
For there the wounded, bleeding breast,
Flies for a home, and place of rest;
In solitude the tear is shed,

In silent mem'ry of the dead;
In solitude how oft we find,

The broken heart and greived mind!
And 'midst its silence love to dwell
Those who have bade the world farewell.



ORPHEUS, for so the Gentiles* call'd thy name,
Israel's sweet Psalı, who alone could'st wake
Th' inanimate to motion; who alone

The joyful hillocks, the applauding rocks,
And floods with musical persuasion drew;
Thou, who to hail and snow gav'st voice and sound,
And mad'st the mute melodious!-greater yet
Was thy divinest skill, and rul'd o'er more
Than art and nature; for thy tuneful touch
Drove trembling Satan from the heart of Saul,

* See this conjecture strongly supported by Delany, in his Life of David.

And quell'd the evil Angel-in this breast:
Some portion of thy genuine spirit breathe,
And lift me from myself; each thought impure
Banish; each low idea raise, refine,

Enlarge, and sanctify ;-so shall the Muse
Above the stars aspire, and aim to praise
Her God on earth as he is prais'd in heaven.
Immense Creator! whose all-powerful hand
Fram'd universal being, and whose eye
Saw like thyself, that all things form'd were good
Where shall the timorous Bard thy praise begin,
Where end the purest sacrifice of song, [light,
And just thanksgiving ?-The thought-kindling
Thy prime production, darts upon my mind
Its vivifying beams, my heart illumines,
And fills my soul with gratitude and Thee.
Hail to the cheerful rays of ruddy morn,
That paint the streaky East and blithsome rouse
The birds, the cattle, and mankind from rest!
Hail to the freshness of the early breeze,
And Iris dancing on the new-fall'n dew.
Without the aid of yonder golden globe,
Lost were the garnet's lustre, lost the lily,
The tulip and auricula's spotted pride;
Lost were the peacock's plumage, to the sight
So pleasing in its pomp and glossy glow.
O thrice-illustrious! were it not for Thee,
Those pansies, that reclining from the bank
View thro' th' immaculate pellucid stream
Their portraiture in the inverted heaven,
Might as well change their triple boast, the white,
The purple, and the gold, that far outvie
The Eastern monarch's garb, ev'n with the dock
Ev'n with the baneful hemlock's irksome green.
Without thy aid, without thy gladsome beams,
The tribes of woodland warblers would remain

Mute on the bending branches, nor recite
The praise of Him, who, ere he form'd their lord,
Their voices tun'd to transport, wing'd their flight,
And bade them call for nurture, and receive:
And lo! they call; the blackbird and the thrush,
The woodlark and the redbreast jointly call:
He hears, and feeds their feather'd families;
He feeds his sweet musicians-nor neglects
Th' invoking ravens in the greenwood wide;
And tho' their throats coarse rattling hurt the ear,
They mean it all for music, thanks and praise
They mean, and leave ingratitude to man :-
But not to all-for, hark! the organs blow
Their swelling notes round the cathedral's dome,
And grace the harmonious choir, celestial feast
To pious ears, and med'cine of the mind!
The thrilling trebles and the manly bass
Join in accordance meet, and with one voice
All to the sacred subject suit their song.
While in each breast sweet melancholy reigns
Angelically pensive, till the joy

Improves and purifies; the solemn scene
The sun thro' storied panes surveys with awe,
And bashfully withholds each bolder beam.
Here, as her home, from morn to eve frequents
The cherub Gratitude; behold her eyes!
With love and gladness weepingly they shed
Ecstatic smiles; the incense, that her hands
Uprear, is sweeter than the breath of May
Caught from the nect'rine's blossom, and her voice
more than voice can tell: to Him she sings,
o Him who feeds, who clothes, and who adorns,
ho made, and who preserves, whatever dwells
n air, in stedfast earth, or fickle sea.

O He is good, He is immensely good!

Who all things form'd, and form'd them all for man

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Who mark'd the climates, varied every zone,
Dispensing all his blessings for the best,

In order and in beauty :-rise, attend,

Arrest, and praise, ye quarters of the world!
Bow down, ye elephants, submissive bow

To Him who made the mite! Tho', Asia's pride,
Ye carry armies on your tower-crown'd backs,
And grace the turban'd tyrants, bow to Him
Who is as great, as perfect, and as good
In his less striking wonders, till at length
The eye's at fault, and seeks th' assisting glass.
Approach, and bring from Araby the Blest
The fragrant cassia, frankincense, and myrrh,
And, meekly kneeling at the altar's foot,
Lay all the tributary incense down.

Stoop, feeble Africa, with rev'rence stoop,
And from thy brow take off the painted plume;
With golden ingots all thy camels load
T' adorn his temples, hasten with thy spear
Reverted, and thy trusty bow unstrung,
While unpursued thy lions roam and roar,
And ruin'd tow'rs, rude rocks, and caverns wide
Re-murmur to the glorious, surly sound.

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And thou, fair Indian, whose immense domain
To counterpoise the hemisphere extends,


Haste from the West, and with thy fruits and flow-
Thy mines and med'cines, wealthy maid, attend.
More than the plenteousness so fam'd to flow
By fabling bards from Amalthea's horn

Is thine; thine therefore be a portion due
Of thanks and praise: come with thy brilliant crown
And vest of fur; and from thy fragrant lap
Pomegranates and the rich ananas pour.
But chiefly thou, Europa, seat of Grace
And Christian excellence, his goodness own.
Forth from ten thousand temples pour his praise.

Clad in the armour of the living God,
Approach, unsheath the spirit's flaming sword;
Faith's shield, salvation's glory-compass'd helm
With fortitude assume, and o'er your heart
Fair Truth's invulnerable breast-plate spread;
Then join the general chorus of all worlds,
And let the song of Charity begin

In strains seraphic, and melodious prayer:
"O all-sufficient, all-beneficent,

"Thou God of Goodness and of Glory, hear! "Thou, who to lowest minds dost condescend, "Assuming passions to inforce thy laws, "Adopting jealousy to prove thy love: "Thou, who resign'd humility uphold'st, "Ev'n as the florist props the drooping rose, "But quell'st tyrannic pride with peerless power. "Ev'n as the tempest rives the stubborn oak: "O all-sufficient, all-beneficent,

"Thou God of Goodness, and of Glory, hear! "Bless all mankind; and bring them in the end "To heav'n, to immortality, and Thee!"



Deo Opt. Max.

FATHER of all! in ev'ry age,

In ev'ry clime ador'd,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou Great First Cause, least understood,

Who all my sense confin'd
To know but this, that Thou art good,
And that myself am blind.

Yet give me, in this dark estate,

To see the good from ill;

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