IV.

Tho' Hills be in the Ocean loft,
With all their fhaggy Load:

No Fear fhall e'er moleft the Juft,
Or fhake his Truft in God.

V.

What tho' th' ungovern'd wild Abyss
His Force tumultuous pour?

What tho' the watʼry Legions rise,

And lash th' affrighted Shore?

VI.

What tho' the trembling Mountains nod,

Nor stand the rolling War?

Sion,fecure, enjoys the Flood,

Loud-ecchoing from afar.

VII.

The Lord most high on Sion Hill

Has fix'd his fure Abode;

Nor

Nor dare th' impetuous Waves affail

The City of our God!

VIII.

Nations remote, and Realms unknown

In vain reject his Sway ;..

For lo! Jehovah's Voice is fhown,

And Earth fhall melt away!

IX.

Let War's devouring Tempefts rise,

And rage on ev'ry Side;

The Lord of Hofts our Refuge is,

And Jacob's God our Guide.

The WREATH.

S

I.

Weet, lovely, chafte,

Ye Lillies hafte,

That in the Vallies breathe:

To Phyllis hafte,

Sweet, lovely, chafte,

For Phyllis twine the Wreath.

III.

Vos Viola, quæ,

Luxuriantis

Purpura veris, Nafcimini, fubnafciminique,

Pulchra humilefque;

IV.

Vos quoque, Flofculi,

Copia ruris,

Quá variatur

Omnis agellus,

Quâ decoratur

Omne viretum;

V.

Vos redolentes

Herbula, adefte,

Quas operofa