You are a dainty violet,-
Yet wither'd, ere you can be set
Within the virgin's coronet.

You are the queen all flowers among,—
But die you must, fair maid, ere long,
As he, the maker of this song.

TO THE MOON.

Thou silent Moon, that look'st so pale,
So much exhausted, and so faint,
Wandering over hill and dale,

Watching oft the kneeling saint-
Hearing his groans float on the gale-
No wonder thou art tir'd and pale.

Yet 1 have often seen thee bring

Thy beams o'er yon bare mountain's steep; Then, with a smile, their lustre fling

Full on the dark and roaring deep;

When the pilgrim's heart did fail,

And when near lost the tossing sail.

Sure, that passing blush deceives;
For thou, fair nymph, art chaste and cold!
Love our bosoms seldom leaves;

But thou art of a different mould.
Hail, chaste queen! for ever hail!
And, prithee, look not quite so pale.

Yet stay-perhaps thou'st travell'd far,
Exulting in thy conscious light;
Till, as I fear, some youthful Star

Hath spread his charms before thy sight;
And, when he found his arts prevail,
He left thee, sickening, faint, and pale.

PSALM CXLVIII.

You who dwell above the skies,
Free from human miseries;

You whom highest heaven embowers,
Praise the Lord with all your powers!
Angels, your clear voices raise!

Him your heavenly armies praise!
Sun, and moon, with borrow'd light,
All you sparkling eyes of night,
Waters hanging in the air,

Heaven of heavens, his praise declare!

His deserved praise record,
His, who made you by his word-
Made you evermore to last,
Set you bounds not to be past.
Let the earth his praise resound;
Monstrous whales, and seas profound
Vapours, lightning, hail, and snow,
Storms, which, when he bids them, blow!
Flowery hills, and mountains high,

Cedars, neighbours to the sky,
Trees, that fruit in season yield,
All the cattle of the field,
Savage beasts, all creeping things,
All that cut the air with wings!
You who awful sceptres sway,
You, inured to obey,
Princes, judges of the earth,
All, of high and humble birth!
Youths, and virgins, flourishing
In the beauty of your spring;
You who bow with age's weight,
You who were but born of late;
Praise his name with one consent:
O how great! how excellent.

THE DAY OF JUDGMENT.

When the fierce north wind with his airy forces Rears up the Baltic to a foaming fury,

And the red lightning with a storm of hail comes Rushing amain down,

How the poor sailors stand amaz'd and tremble! While the hoarse thunder, like a bloody trumpet, Roars a loud onset to the gaping waters,

Quick to devour them.

Such shall the noise be, and the wild disorder,
(If things eternal may be like these earthly)
Such the dine terror, when the great archangel
Shakes the creation;

Tears the strong pillars of the vault of heaven,
Breaks up old marble, the repose of princes;
See the graves open, and the bones arising,
Flames all around 'em.

Hark the shrill outcry of the guilty wretches!
Lively bright horror and amazing anguish

Stare thro' their eye-lids, while the living worm

lies

Gnawing within them.

Thoughts, like old vultures, prey upon their heartstrings,

And the smart twinges, when their eye heholds the Lofty Judge frowning, and a flood of vengeance Rolling afore him.

Hopeless immortals! how they scream and shiver, While devils put them to the pit wide yawning, Hideous and gloomy, to receive them headlong Down to the centre..

Stop here my fancy: (all away ye horrid
Doleful ideas!) come arise to Jesus,

How he sits God-like: and the saints around him

Thron'd, yet adoring!

O may I sit there when he comes triumphant, Dooming the nations! then ascend to glory, While our Hosannas all along the passage

Shout the Redeemer.