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PO E T R Y.
TO THE MEMORY of Mrs. S. F.
WHO FELL ASLEEP IN JESUS, MAR. 2, 1796,
HE dear immortal's took her fight
Thus, thro' the desert and the deep, The tender shepherd of his sheep Watch'd o'er the object of his choice, And inade her in his name rejoice. Ah! could this pen describe the whole Of that great work, which in her soul Emmanuel wrought,sureeach would own That light is for the righteous sown. When sickness had reduc'd her frame, And her last parting moments came, She welcom'd death with cheerful heart, And even longed to départ: Just as the last important stroke, Which every tie of nature broke, By Death's unerring hand was given, To me she said, just ent'ring heaven: “ My refuge is the eternal Lord, Who now has verify'd his word, And for my soul's support hath said, That underneath his arms are'laid ; This witness for my Lord I bear, Adieu! and in my comforts share."
No more to mourn an absent God, No more to dread Affliction's rod. She now has pass'd the vale of tears, And bid adieu to all her fears, Outrid the storms of earth and hell, Arrived in heaven with Christ to dwell. No more in Meshech she abides, Nor dwells near Jordan's swelling tides, No more she feels the war within, No more laments the power of sin. Wrapt in the vision of her God, With ecstacy she shouts abroad The victries of Immanuel's grace Display'd to Adam's guilty race. And while she triumphs in the thought, That millions are to glory brought, This is the wonder of the whole, That Jesus has redeem'd her soul. Thin is the suminit of her bliss, To find herself where Jesus is, For ever to behold his face, Encircled in his arms of grace. Now her enlarged mind surveys A Providence in all his ways, And traces every step she took, While here, by that unerring book. And, O! what raptures fill her soul, While reading the inysterious roll; No mortal tongue can e'er express, Nor heart conceive, nor angel guess. That which on earth did oft appear A source of soul-tormenting fear, Is now made known with its design, And well bespeaks the work divine. Not one aliction that was seni, But had its weight and measurement, First taken in the courts above, Replete with wisdom and with love. The darkness and the conflicts sore, Which she endur'd, and patient bore, Were all design'd to pave a way For Grace to shine in bright array,
May thousands there arise, and sing Where vice and sorrow, with gigantic A precious Saviour's dving love,
[sway, And, ihrough the riches of his grace, Stalk o'er the land, and ho'd a bountless Be brought to join the church above! And stretch their banefui scop re« 'er the
guilt, There ransom'd Britons then will join,
The human mind becloured wit her With Afric's saved sons, to raise Their hignest, sweetest, noblest notes
Where Conscience, with her scourse of
tenfold re, In everlasting songs of praise,
[jov; L. PHEPPARD.
Proclaims no peace, nor yields one solid Joy to be found alone where heay’n reveald,
[blood. Gives us a welcome thro' Immanue!'s
Should he in anger cut thy thread of AN ADDRESS TO A LIBERTINE,
Ithoughts WHO REJECTED THE BIBLE.
And launch thee off!-Send furth thy
To dread Eternity's unbounded sea. TOP thy career, and turn thy laugh
Then turn them to that Saviour's won[joy, drous love,
[heart Flush'd with conceit of riches, youth, and
Which still irvites thee to bestow thy To Death's sure, rapid, terrible approach. Where never-failing streams of pleasure Ah! what will it availat close of life,
[the lay, The empty boasting of hy vainful heart,
There mayest thou join in pouring forth Just like a bubble blown up in the air,
The lay melodious to that sov'reign And breaks whilst glistering with the
[found; Tyrian dies!
[thy steps, At whose meek cross, thy soulacceptance Cease from thy course! nor madiy urge Now landed safely where no sin invites, Withoutone wary glance where Ruin lies
And blissful millions, rebels like thyself, Ambush'd to strike thee with her barbed
Adore the grace, which snatch'd them darts.
from the flame. Pale Death stalks round thee, whose ful
SERENA. ,hlrent soon
[thee; Arres's the rapid wheel of Time with And soon revo.ving seasons cease to roll. Hell gapes its pondrous jaws-Heaven ON MATTHEW, XIV. 24. staids reveal'd;
« For the wind was contrary." Earth, with portentous struggles, urges
MBITIOUS mortals vainly rise
All their rich crops of promis'd good view
Are blasted in the opening bud. In living characters bespeaks thine eye; And far and wide, triumphant in its irain, Their boasted pleasures, wealth and fame, it diaw's tle prince, the peasant, and the Exist, and but exist in name ; slave;
[the high, And Death--that inauspicious wind, Brings do it'n the proud, conceited, and Leaves that an hapless wreck behind. And ribs them of their honours in the
But the fair world to which I press dust;
Hasendless grandeurs--boundless grace, Lifts up ihe icwly and the contrite heart,
Where pleasures, in a rich repast, Who sighis fir Truth to guide his err
Shail to unnumber'd ages lasi. ing steps,
[surround. Free from the thousand whirlpools that
Should angry fiends unite their force, Immortals ul! Immanuel waits to save.
Determin'd to obstruct my course, O! world thy siubborn ennily submit
Jesus, my pilot and my love, To that ble:t page, which paints him to
Shall all their threat'ning storms reprove, thy vicw!
[here; In the fair haven of his breast His birth, his life, our joy and comfort My vessei shall for ever rest, His suff'rings, death, our hope for peace
And to the Ruler of the seas and heav'n,
Discinarge her grand salutes of praise. of everlasting bliss, unknown on earth,
For APRIL, 1797.
MEMOIRS OF THE LATE REVEREND
JOHN CARVER. THE Rev. John Carver was born A. D. 1733, at Southill,
in Bedfordshire, and was several years a member of the Independent church of that place, of which church his father was a deacon. That piety, and those talents which shone, with increasing lustre, to the close of his life, discovered themselves at a very early period; but unaffected modesty, and confcientious motives, prevented his entering into the ministry till he had completed his thirtieth year. He began by privately exercising his gifts before the church, and after wards established an evening lecture among his poor neighbours, to whom he preached after the labours of the day were closed. He continued these exercises, and some occafional services, a considerable time before he relinquished his secular employment, and devoted himself entirely to the fervice of the church. At-length, however, he accepted the unanimous and urgent invitation of a small, but affestionate, congregation at Kirtling, near Newmarket, in Cambridgeshire. With this people he remained till the year 1770, when he removed to Wellingborough, in Northamptonshire, which fituation he filled near twenty-seven years with great respectability and usefulness, his life and labours ending on January 31, 1797.
Mr. Carver had not the advantage of an academical education ; but his understanding, naturally vigorous, was cultivated by reading and reflection. In conversation he was habitually serious without gloom, and cheerful without levity. He possessed, to an uncommon degree, the happy talent of giving a devotional turn to almost every subject. Far from VOL. V.