STANZAS ON THE SAME OCCASION. WHY am I loth to leave this earthly scene? Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode? And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod. Fain would I say, 'Forgive my foul offence ;' Again exalt the brute and sink the man : O Thou, great Governor of all below! If I may dare a lifted eye to Thee, Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow, With that controlling power assist e'en me Those headlong, furious passions to confine; For all unfit I feel my powers to be To rule their torrent in the allowed line: Lying at a Reverend Friend's House one Night, the Author left the following Verses in the Room where he slept. O THou dread Power, who reign'st above ! I know thou wilt me hear, When for this scene of peace and love The hoary sire-the mortal stroke She, who her lovely offspring eyes Their hope, their stay, their darling youth, Bless him, thou God of love and truth, The beauteous, seraph sister-band, With earnest tears, I pray, (Thou know'st the snares on every hand) When soon or late they reach that coast, May they rejoice, no wanderer lost, A PRAYER, UNDER THE PRESSURE OF VIOLENT ANGUISH. O THOU Great Being! what thou art Yet sure I am, that known to thee Thy creature here before thee stands, Yet sure those ills that wring my soul Sure thou, Almighty, canst not act O, free my weary eyes from tears, But if I must afflicted be, To suit some wise design, Then man my soul with firm resolves D THE FIRST SIX VERSES OF THE NINETIETH PSALM. O THOU, the first, the greatest Friend Whose strong right hand has ever been Before the mountains heaved their heads Before this ponderous globe itself That Power which raised and still upholds From countless, unbeginning time, Those mighty periods of years Which seem to us so vast, Thou givest the word: Thy creature, man, Return ye into nought!' Thou layest them, with all their cares, In everlasting sleep; As with a flood, thou takest them off They flourish like the morning flower, But long ere night cut down, it lies THE FIRST PSALM. THE man, in life wherever placed, Who walks not in the wicked's way, Nor from the seat of scornful pride But with humility and awe Still walks before his God. That man shall flourish like the trees, But he whose blossom buds in guilt For why? that God the good adore |