« FöregåendeFortsätt »
What conscience di&tates to be done,
Or warns me not to do, This teach me more than hell to shun,
That more than heav'n pursue.
What blessings thy free bounty gives
Let me not caft away ;
T' enjoy is to obey
Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound,
When thousand worlds are around :
Let not this weak, unknowing hand
Perfume thy bolts to throw,
On each I judge thy foe,
If I am right; thy grace impart
Still in the right to stay ;
To find that better way.
Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious discontent;
®r aught thy goodness lent.
Teach me to feel anothers woe,
To hide the fault I see:
That mercy shew to me.
Mean though I am, not wholly la,
Sisce quicken'd by thy breath ;
Through this day's life or death.
This day, be bread and peace my lot :
All elfe beneath the sun
And let thy will be done.
To Thee, whose.temple is all space,
Whose altar, earth, sea, skies !
All nature's incense rise?
LL are but parts of one ftupendi us whole,
Whose body Nature is, and God the soul : That chang'd thro' all, and yet in the all fame, Great in the earth, as in the etherial frame
Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
Cease then, nor Order imperfection name: Our proper bliss depends on what we blame, Know thy own point: This kind, this due degree. Of blindness, weakness Heav'n bestows on thee. Submit.-In this, or any other sphere, Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear : Safe in the hand of one disposing pow'r. Or in the natal, or the muortal hour, All nature is but art, unknown to thee; All chance, direction, which thou canst not see; All discord, harmony not understood; All partial evil, universal good : And, spite of pride, in erring reason's fpite, One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.
E L E G Y .
P I T Y.
When Fancy paints the scene of deep distress ; Whose tears spontaneous chrystalize the eye,
When rigid Fate denies the power to bless.
Not all the sweets Arabia's gales convey
From flowery meads can with that ligh compare : Not dew drops glittering in the morning ray,
Seem near so beauteous as that falling tear,
Devoid of fear the fawns around thee play ;
Emblem of peace the dove before thee flies;
Beneath thy feet no hapless infect dies,
Come, lovely nymph! and range the mead with me,
To spring the partridge from the guileful foe; From secret snares the struggling bird to free,
And stop the hand uprais'd to give the blow.
And when the air with heat meridian glows,
And Nature droops beneath the conquering gleam, Let us slow wandering where the current flows,
Save finking flies that float along the stream.
Or turn to nobler, greater tasks thy care,
To me thy sympathetic gifts impart ;
And juftly boast the generous, feeling heart..
Teach me to soothe the helpless orphan's grief,
Wish timely aid the widow's woes assuage, To Misery's moving cries to yield relief,
And be the sure refource of drooping age,
So when the genial spring of life shall fade,
And finking nature owns the dread decay, Some foul congenial then may lend it's aid,
And gild the close of life's eventful day.
APPY they! the happiest of their kind.!
Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. "Tis not the coarser tie of human laws,