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Great WASHINGTON! Mount Vernon's shade were

naught, Except as close allied to thine own name; And what but noblest virtues without blame

Have all the lustre of thy glory wrought ? Our country's chief in freedom's battle fought,

Thy sword laid down in triumph's loud acclaim ; Then "First in peace,” our nation's good thine aim,

To Rulers many a lesson thou hast taught. The model patriot thou, thy life unstain'd;

A rev’rent worshipper of God, we see

Thine end was peace; one noble act remain’d,Thy dying voice said to thy slaves, “ Be Free !".

With no dear son, each Freeman is thy Son,
And thou his Father lov'd, Great WASHINGTON !

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In the sweet silence of a cloudless night

The glory-studded firmament on high
With wonder overwhelms my gazing eye,

Lost in the wilderness of worlds of light.
Around these suns do systems wheel their flight,

and spotless as the crystal sky, Th’ abodes of bliss serene without a sigh, Where mists and clouds ne'er rise nor storms

affright? O, for an angel's wings to fly away

From this low world of sin, and woe, and care,

And gain those orbs of purity and love! Wish not for angel's wings: thy God obey,

And soon bis grace thy ransom'd soul will bear Up to his own more glorious throne above!



Still beautiful in this thy rest so deep,

Thy final wish fulfill’d, we see thy face
Calm as in life, with not a marring trace

Of the swift blow, which calls thy friends to weep. What hosts of mighty dead around thee keep

On these rich-loaded shelves their silent place ?"Farewell, companions lov’d; like your's my race

Is run; tomorrow in the ground I sleep.”What would he teach us, living, by this scene?

Books ! books! are earth's invaluable lights ;

Treasures of truth, the richest gifts terrene, Left by fled spirits in their upward flights!

And what does man demand, in age and youth, But heav'n-descended, heav'nward-guiding Truth?

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“Thou shalt not kill,”—the Almighty God hath said.

Then, Mighty Kings! who glory in your shame And swim in blood to gain a hero's name,

What awful doom—with all your greatness fledWhen, rising with your subjects from the dead,

Ye stand in judgment? What will then be fame? And will not fiery courage be quite tame;

On ev'ry side th’ Almighty's terrors spread? 0, Living Monarchs! within reach of grace,

Of love and mercy from the throne of God,

Forgiveness may ye find, and faith t' embrace The offer'd pardon through redeeming blood;

Then to the world great Benefactors prove, Your pride exchang'd for happy subjects' love!


Truth to the earth came down from heav'n above,

Cloth'd in celestial beauty to the eye,
Willing to see; man's guide to God on high.

Her voice is voice of sweetness and of love,
Of pow'r all feelings of the soul to move.

When she but speaks, all wild’ring phantoms fly, Each cheat, and fraud, and vile, illusive lie,

Which in our murky air around thick rove. She speaks of Him, who ere the earth was made

Was God's own Son in heav'nly glory bright;

Yet dwelt with man in mortal flesh array'd, Redeemer blest! of this dark world the light;

Whose death by cruel nails our life has won,
Whose cross for us a bright, immortal crown.

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I've seen the morning sweet, serene, and bright,

Cheer'd by th' effulgence of the orb of day,
And ev'ry object drest in pure array;

But soon the splendor chang’d to dismal night. Dark clouds and raging storms spread round affright,

While lightnings gleam, and thunders bring dismay. And such too oft is Youth: thoughtless and gay,

With ev'ry charm to bless th' admiring sight. But soon how chang'd! The face is mark'd with care,

The furious passions cast away control,

And outrag'd conscience shakes a glist’ning dart. Poor Youth ! Would'st thou the marred scene

repair, The sway of holy laws must guide thy soul, And love, and hope, and faith must fill thy heart.

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Heard ye the anguish of that broken sigh,

Bursting from wretched sinner's smitten heart? Or did ye mark the contrite tears, which start

In pearly drops from that uplifted eye ? Blest is that groan ; 'tis heard by him on high,

Whose grace from prostrate soul will ne'er depart, Whose tender love will soothe the mental smart,

And to Himself bring humble aliens nigh. Blest are those tears;—with brighter ray they shine,

Than costliest gem, which tyrant's crown adorns,

When beaming on the gaze of subject throngs. The grief of penitence wakes bliss divine

Before His throne, who bore the crown of thorns, And Angels' harps resound with rapt'rous songs!


Psalm 139.

O, whither from thy Spirit shall I go?

Or whither from thine eye shall I repair ?
Thou, Lord, if I ascend to heav'n, art there;

And there, if I lie down in grave below:
Or if the wings of morning on me grow,

And with the speed of light I pierce the air And find the shores, which India's billows wear,

Ev'n there thy presence will around me flow.If I should say,—“night's veil will me conceal;"

Yet in thy view the darkness shall be light,

And deepest gloom will shine like flood of day.-Thy presence, Lord, then let me ever feel

Each budding, sinful aim and thought to blight, And urge to deeds of holy, blest array.



'Tis piteous tale, in Grecian numbers told,

Prometheus chain’d by Vulcan to a rock;
Expos'd aloft to ev'ry tempest's shock,

To burning sun, and winter's shiy'ring cold :
And all his woe, as minstrel doth unfold,

From love to man, whom other gods would mock. For man his hands Jove's treasury unlock;

The stolen fire he breathes on man's dull mould. O, could this Bard have liv'd in Christian days,

And seen our blessed Lord nail'd to the tree,

Expos’d, from love to man, to scorn and woe;
He would have sung of JESUS; and his lays

Would shame our empty, soulless minstrelsy,
Whose strains in praise of Jesus never flow!

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