Page images
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

I.

A PRAYER IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH. LYING AT A REVEREND FRIEND'S HOUSE ONE NIGHT, THE

AUTHOR LEFT

THE FOLLOWING VERSES
IN THE ROOM WHERE HE SLEPT.

O THOU unknown, Almighty Cause
Of all my hope and fear!

In whose dread presence, ere an hour,
Perhaps I must appear!

II.

If I have wander'd in those paths
Of life I ought to shun,

As something, loudly, in my breast,
Remonstrates I have done;

III.

Thou know'st that thou hast formed me
With passions wild and strong;
And listening to their witching voice
Has often led me wrong.

IV.

Where human weakness has come short,
Or frailty stept aside,

Do thou, All-Good! for such thou art,
In shades of darkness hide.

V.

Where with intention I have err'd,
No other plea I have,

But thou art good; and goodness still
Delighteth to forgive.

STANZAS ON THE SAME OCCASION.

WHY am I loath to leave this earthly scene?

Have I so found it full of pleasing charms?
Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between:
Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renewing storms:
Is it departing pangs my soul alarms?

Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode ?
For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms;
I tremble to approach an angry God,
And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod.

Fain would I say, "Forgive my foul offence!"

Fain promise never more to disobey;
But, should my Author health again dispense,
Again I might desert fair virtue's way;
Again in folly's path might go astray;

Again exalt the brute and sink the man;
Then how should I for heavenly mercy pray,
Who act so counter heavenly mercy's plan?
Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation
ran?

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,
Or still the tumult of the raging sea:
With what 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 th' allowed line; O aid me with thy help, Omnipotence Divine !

I.

O THOU dread Power, who reign'st above!
I know thou wilt me hear:

When for this scene of peace and love,
I make my prayer sincere.

II.

The hoary sire-the mortal stroke,
Long, long be pleased to spare!
To bless his little filial flock,
And show what good men are.

III.

She, who her lovely offspring eyes
tender hopes and fears,
O bless her with a mother's joys,
But spare a mother's tears!

VI.

Their hope, their stay, their darling youth,
In manhood's dawning blush;

Bless him, thou God of love and truth,
Up to a parent's wish!

V.

The beauteous, seraph sister band,
With earnest tears I pray,

Thou know'st the snares on every hand,
Guide thou their steps alway!

VI.

When soon or late they reach that coast,
O'er life's rough ocean driven,
May they rejoice, no wanderer lost,
A family in heaven!

THE FIRST PSALM.

THE man, in life wherever placed,
Hath happiness in store,

Who walks not in the wicked's way,
Nor learns their guilty lore!

Nor from the seat of scornful pride
Casts forth his eyes abroad,
But with humility and awe

Still walks before his God.

That man shall flourish like the trees
Which by the streamlets grow;
The fruitful top is spread on high,
And firm the root below.

But he whose blossom buds in guilt
Shall to the ground be cast,

And, like the rootless stubble, tost
Before the sweeping blast.

For why? that God the good adore
Hath given them peace and rest,
But hath decreed that wicked men
Shall ne'er be truly blest.

A PRAYER

UNDER THE PRESSURE OF VIOLENT ANGUISH.

O THOU Great Being! what thou art
Surpasses me to know:

Yet sure I am, that known to thee
Are all thy works below.

Thy creature here before thee stands, All wretched and distrest;

Yet sure those ills that wring my soul, Obey thy high behest.

Sure thou, Almighty, canst not act
From cruelty or wrath!
O free my weary eyes from tears,
Or close them fast in death!

But if I must afflicted be,

To suit some wise design; Then man my soul with firm resolves To bear and not repine!

THE FIRST SIX VERSES OF THE NINE-
TIETH PSALM.

O THOU, the first, the greatest Friend
Of all the human race!

Whose strong right hand has ever been Their stay and dwelling place!

Before the mountains heaved their heads
Beneath thy forming hand,
Before this ponderous globe itself
Arose at thy command:

That power which raised and still upholds This universal frame,

From countless, unbeginning time Was ever still the same.

Those mighty periods of years
Which seem to us so vast,

Appear no more before thy sight
Than yesterday that's past.

Thou givest the word: Thy creature, man, Is to existence brought:

Again thou say'st, "Ye sons of men, Return ye into naught!"

Thou layest them, with all their cares, In everlasting sleep;

As with a flood thou takest them off With overwhelming sweep.

They flourish like the morning flower,
In beauty's pride array'd;
But long ere night cut down it lies
All wither'd and decay'd.

TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY,

ON TURNING ONE DOWN WITH THE PLOUGH IN APRIL, 1786.

WEE, modest, crimson-tipped flower, Thou's met me in an evil hour;

For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem; To spare thee now is past my power, Thou bonnie gem.

Alas! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonnie lark, companion meet! Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet! Wi' spreckled breast. When upward-springing, blythe to greet The purpling east. Cauld blew the bitter-biting north Upon thy early, humble birth; Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth Amid the storm, Scarce rear'd above the parent earth Thy tender form.

The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, High sheltering woods and wa's maun shield, But thou beneath the random bield O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field, Unseen, alane.

There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawy bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise ; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies!

Such is the fate of artless maid,
Sweet floweret of the rural shade!
By love's simplicity betray'd,
And guileless trust,
Till she, like thee, all soil'd is laid
Low i' the dust.
Such is the fate of simple bard,
On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd!
Unskilful he to note the card

Of prudent lore,
Till billows rage, and gales blow hard,
And whelm him o'er!
Such fate of suffering worth is given,
Who long with wants and woes has striven,
By human pride or cunning driven,
To misery's brink,
Till wrench'd of every stay but Heaven,
He, ruin'd, sink!

E'en thou who mourn'st the daisy's fate That fate is thine-no distant date; Stern ruin's ploughshare drives, elate, Full on thy bloom, Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight Shall be thy doom!

TO RUIN.

I.

ALL hail! inexorable lord!

At whose destruction-breathing word,
The mightiest empires fall!
Thy cruel wo-delighted train,
The ministers of grief and pain,
A sullen welcome, all!
With stern-resolved, despairing eye,
I see each aimed dart ;

For one has cut my dearest tie, And quivers in my heart.

Then lowering, and pouring,
The storm no more I dread;
Though thickening and blackening
Round my devoted head.

II.

And, thou grim power, by life abhorr❜d,
While life a pleasure can afford,

O! hear a wretch's prayer!
No more I shrink appall'd, afraid;
I court, I beg thy friendly aid,

To close this scene of care!
When shall my soul, in silent peace,
Resign life's joyless day;

My weary heart its throbbing cease,
Cold mouldering in the clay?

No fear more, no tear more,
To stain my lifeless face;
Enclasped, and grasped
Within thy cold embrace!

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

216

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]
« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »