Page images
PDF
EPUB

THE NATIVITY OF CHRIST.

"SHEPHERDS, rejoice, lift up your eyes,
And send your fears away;
News from the region of the skies,
Salvation's born to-day.

"Jesus, the God whom angels fear,
Comes down to dwell with you;
To-day he makes his entrance here,
But not as monarchs do.

"No gold, nor purple swaddling-bands,
Nor royal shining things;
A manger for his cradle stands,

And holds the King of kings.

"Go, shepherds, where the infant lies, And see his humble throne; With tears of joy in all your eyes,

Go, shepherds, kiss the Son."

Thus Gabriel sang: and straight around
The heavenly armies throng;
They tune their harps to lofty sound,
And thus conclude the song:
"Glory to God that reigns above,

Le peace surround the Earth; Mortals shall know their Maker's love, At their Redeemer's birth."

Lord! and shall angels have their songs,
And men no tunes to raise?

O may we lose these useless tongues
When they forget to praise!

Glory to God that reigns above,
That pitied us forlorn!

We join to sing our Maker's love,
For there's a Saviour born.

GOD GLORIOUS, AND SINNERS SAVED.

FATHER, how wide thy glory shines!

How high thy wonders rise!

Known through the Earth by thousand signs,

By thousand through the skies.

Those mighty orbs proclaim thy power,
Their motions speak thy skill;

And on the wings of every hour
We read thy patience still.

Part of thy name divinely stands
On all thy creatures writ;
They show the labour of thine hands,
Or impress of thy feet.

But when we view thy strange design
To save rebellious worms,
Where vengeance and compassion join
In their divinest forms;

Our thoughts are lost in reverend awe:
We love and we adore;
The first archangel never saw
So much of God before.

Here the whole Deity is known;
Nor dares a creature guess

Which of the glories brightest shone,
The justice or the grace.

[blocks in formation]

Grand Dieu, tes Jugemens, &c.

GRACE rules below, and sits enthron'd above,

How few the sparks of wrath! how slow they move,
And drop and die in boundless seas of love!

But me, vile wretch! should pitying Love embrace
Deep in its ocean, Hell itself would blaze,
And flash, and burn me through the boundless seas.
Yea, Lord, my guilt, to such a vastness grown,
Seems to confine thy choice to wrath alone,
And calls thy power to vindicate thy throne.
Thine honour bids, "avenge thine injur'd name,"
Thy slighted loves a dreadful glory claim,
While my moist tears might but incense thy flame.
Should Heaven grow black, almighty thunder roar,
And vengeance blast me, I could plead no more,
But own thy justice dying, and adore.

Yet can those bolts of Death, that cleave the flood
To reach a rebel, pierce this sacred shroud,
Ting'd in the vital stream of my Redeemer's blood?

THE PENITENT PARDONED.

HENCE from my soul, my Sins, depart!
Your fatal friendship now I see :
Long have you dwelt too near my heart;
Hence, to eternal distance flee!

Ye gave my dying Lord his wound;
Yet I caress'd your viperous brood,
And in my heart-strings lapp'd you round,
You, the vile murderers of my God.
Black heavy thoughts, like mountains, roll
O'er my poor breast, with boding fears,
And, crushing hard my tortur'd soul,
Wring through my eyes the briny tears.
Forgive my treasons, Prince of Grace!
The bloody Jews were traitors too;
Yet thou hast pray'd for that curs'd race,
"Father, they know not what they do."
Great Advocate, look down and see
A wretch, whose smarting sorrows bleed;
O plead the same excuse for me!
For, Lord, I knew not what I did,

Peace, my complaints! Let every groan
Be still, and silence wait his love;
Compassions dwell amidst his throne,
And through his inmost bowels move.
Lo, from the everlasting skies,
Gently, as morning-dews distil,
The dove immortal downward flies,
With peaceful olive in his bill.

How sweet the voice of pardon sounds!
Sweet the relief to deep distress:
I feel the balm that heals my wounds,
And all my powers adore the grace.

A HYMN OF PRAISE

FOR THREE GREAT SALVATIONS.

VIZ.

1. From the Spanish Invasion, 1588.
2. From the Gun-powder Plot, Nov. 5.

3. From Popery and Slavery by K. WILLIAM of Glo. rious Memory, who landed Nov. 5. 1688. Composed Nov. 5, 1695.

INFINITE God, thy counsels stand
Like mountains of eternal brass,
Pillars to prop our sinking land,
Or guardian rocks to break the seas.

From pole to pole thy name is known,
Thee a whole Heaven of angels praise;
Our labouring tongues would reach thy throne
With the loud triumphs of thy grace.

Part of thy church, by thy command,
Stands rais'd upon the British isles;
"There," said the Lord," to ages stand,
Firm as the everlasting hills."

In vain the Spanish ocean roar'd;
Its billows swell'd against our shore,
Its billows sunk beneath thy word,
With all the floating war they bore.
"Come," said the sons of bloody Rome,
"Let us provide new arms from Hell:"

And down they digg'd through Earth's dark womb,
And ransack'd all the burning cell.

Old Satan lent them fiery stores,
Infernal coal, and sulphurous flame,
And all that burns, and all that roars,
Outrageous fires of dreadful name.
Beneath the senate and the throne
Engines of hellish thunder lay;
There the dark seeds of fire were sown,
To spring a bright but dismal day.
Thy Love beheld the black design,
Thy Love, that guards our island round;
Strange! how it quench'd the fiery mine,
And crush'd the tempest under ground.

THE SECOND PART.

Assume, my tongue, a nobler strain, Sing the new wonders of the Lord; The foes revive their powers again, Again they die beneath his sword.

Dark as our thoughts our minutes roll,
While tyranny possess'd the throne,
And murderers of an Irish soul

Ran, threatening death, through every town
The Romish priest and British prince
Join'd their best force, and blackest charms,
And the fierce troops of neighbouring France
Offer'd the service of their arms.

""Tis done," they cried, and laugh'd aloud : The courts of darkness rang with joy,

Th' old Serpent hiss'd, and Hell grew proud,
While Zion mourn'd her ruin nigh.

But lo, the great deliverer sails,
Commission'd from Jehovah's hand,
And smiling seas, and wishing gales,
Convey him to the longing land.

The happy day', and happy year,
Both in our new salvation meet:
The day 2 that quench'd the burning snare,
The year that burnt th' invading fleet.
Now did thine arm, O God of Hosts,
Now did thine arm shine dazzling bright;
The sons of might their hands had lost,
And men of blood forgot to fight.
Brigades of angels lin'd the way,
And guarded William to his throne:
There, ye celestial warriors, stay,
And make his palace like your own.
Then, mighty God, the Earth shall know
And learn the worship of the sky :
Angels and Britons join below,
To raise their Hallelujahs high.
All Hallelujah, heavenly King!
While distant lands thy victory sing,
And tongues their utmost powers employ,
The world's bright roof repeats the joy.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

DEATH AND ETERNITY.

My thoughts, that often mount the skies,
Go, search the world beneath,
Where Nature in all ruin lies,

And owns her sovereign, Death.
The tyrant, how he triumphs here!
His trophies spread around!
And heaps of dust and bones appear
Through all the hollow ground.
These skulls, what ghastly figures now!
How loathsome to the eyes!
These are the heads we lately knew

So beauteous and so wise.

But where the souls, those deathless things,
That left this dying clay?

My thoughts, now stretch out all your wings,
And trace Eternity.

O that unfathomable sea!

Those deeps without a shore!
Where living waters gently play,
Or fiery billows roar.

Thus must we leave the banks of life,
And try this doubtful sea;
Vain are our groans, and dying strife,
To gain a moment's stay.

There we shall swim in heavenly bliss,

Or sink in flaming waves,
While the pale carcass thoughtless lies
Among the silent graves.

Some hearty friend shall drop his tear
On our dry bones, and say,

"These once were strong, as mine appear,
And mine must be as they."

Thus shall our mouldering members teach
What now our senses learn;
For dust and ashes loudest preach
Man's infinite concern.

A SIGHT OF HEAVEN IN SICKNESS.

OFT have I sat in secret sighs,

To feel my flesh decay,

Then groan'd aloud with frighted eyes,
To view the tottering clay.

But I forbid my sorrows now,

Nor dares the flesh complain; Diseases bring their profit too; The joy o'ercomes the pain.

My cheerful Soul now all the day

Sits waiting here and sings;
Looks through the ruins of her clay,

And practises her wings.

Faith almost changes into sight,
While from afar she spies
Her fair inheritance, in light
Above created skies.

Had but the prison walls been strong,
And firm without a flaw,

In darkness she had dwelt too long,
And less of glory saw.

But now the everlasting hills

Through every chink appear,
And something of the joy she feels
While she's a prisoner here.

The shines of Heaven rush sweetly in
At all the gaping flaws:
Visions of endless bliss are seen,

And native air she draws.

O may these walls stand tottering still,
The breaches never close,

If I must here in darkness dwell,
And all this glory lose!

Or rather let this flesh decay,
The ruins wider grow,

Till, glad to see th' enlarged way,
I stretch'd my pinions through.

THE UNIVERSAL HALLELUJAH.

FSALM CXLVIII. PARAPHRASED.

PRAISE ye the Lord with joyful tongue,

Ye powers that guard his throne;
Jesus the Man shall lead the song,
The God inspire the tune.
Gabriel, and all th' immortal choir
That fill the realms above,
Sing; for he form'd you of his fire,
And feeds you with his love.
Shine to his praise, ye crystal skies,
The floor of his abode,

Or veil your little twinkling eyes
Before a brighter God.

Thou restless globe of golden light,
Whose beams create our days,
Join with the silver queen of night,
To own your borrow'd rays.
Blush, and refund the honours paid

To your inferior names:

Tell the blind world, your orbs are fed
By his o'erflowing flames.

Winds, ye shall bear his name aloud
Through the ethereal blue;
For, when his chariot is a cloud,
He makes his wheels of you.

Thunder and hail, and fires and storms,
The troops of his command,

Appear in all your dreadful forms,

And speak his awful hand.

Shout to the Lord, ye surging seas, In your eternal roar;

Let wave to wave resound his praise, And shore reply to shore:

While monsters, sporting on the flood,
In scaly silver shine,

Speak terribly their Maker-God,
And lash the foaming brine.

But gentler things shall tune his name
To softer notes than these,

Young Zephyrs breathing o'er the stream,
Or whispering through the trees.
Wave your tall heads, ye lofty pines,
To him that bid you grow:
Sweet clusters, bend the fruitful vines

On every thankful bough.

Let the shrill birds his honour raise,
And climb the morning-sky:

While grovelling beasts attempt his praise
In hoarser harmony.

Thus while the meaner creatures sing,
Ye mortals, take the sound,

Echo the glories of your King
Through all the nations round.

Th' eternal name must fly abroad
From Britain to Japan;

And the whole race shall bow to God,
That owns the name of man.

THE ATHEIST'S MISTAKE.

LAUCH, ye profane, and swell and burst
With bold impiety:

Yet shall ye live for ever curst,
And seek in vain to die.

The gasp of your expiring breath
Consigns your souls to chains,

By the last agonies of death
Sent down to fiercer pains.

Ye stand upon a dreadful steep,
And all beneath is Hell:

Your weighty guilt will sink you deep,
Where the old Serpent fell.
When iron slumbers bind your flesh,
With strange surprise you'll find
Immortal vigour spring afresh,
And tortures wake the mind.

Then you'll confess, the frightful names
Of plagues you scorn'd before,
No more shall look like idle dreams,
Like foolish tales no more.

Then shall ye curse that fatal day,

(With flames upon your tongues) When you exchang'd your souls away For vanity and songs.

Behold, the saints rejoice to die,

For Heaven shines round their heads; And angel-guards, prepar'd to fly, Attend their fainting beds.

Their longing spirits part, and rise
To their celestial seat;

Above these ruinable skies
They make their last retreat,

Hence, ye profane! I hate your ways,
I walk with pious souls;
There's a wide diff'rence in our race,
And distant are our goals.

THE LAW GIVEN AT SINAI. ARM thee with thunder, heavenly Muse, And keep th' expecting world in awe; Oft hast thou sung in gentler mood The melting mercies of thy God; Now give thy fiercest fires a loose,

And sound his dreadful law:

To Israel first the words were spoke, To Israel freed from Egypt's yoke, Inhuman bondage! The hard galling load Over-press'd their feeble souls, Bent their knees to senseless bulls,

And broke their ties to God.

Now had they pass'd th' Arabian bay,

And march'd between the cleaving sea;

[way,

The rising waves stood guardians of their wondrous But fell with most impetuous force

On the pursuing swarms,

And bury'd Egypt all in arms,

Blending in watery death the rider and the horse:

O'er struggling Pharaoh roll'd the mighty tide,

And sav'd the labours of a pyramid.

Apis and Ore in vain he cries,

And all his horned gods beside;

He swallows fate with swimming eyes,
And curs'd the Hebrews as he died.

Ah! foolish Israel, to comply
With Memphian idolatry!

And bow to brutes (a stupid slave),
To idols impotent to save!

Behold thy God, the sovereign of the sky,
Has wrought salvation in the deep,
Has bound thy foes in iron sleep,

And rais'd thine honours high:
His grace forgives thy follies past,
Behold, he comes in majesty,
And Sinai's top proclaims his law:
Prepare to meet thy God in haste;
But keep an awful distance still:
Let Moses round the sacred hill
The circling limits draw.

Hark! the shrill echoes of the trumpet roar,
And call the trembling armies near:
Slow and unwilling they appear;
Rails kept them from the mount before,
Now from the rails their fear:

'Twas the same herald, and the trump the same
Which shall be blown by high command,
Shall bid the wheels of Nature stand,
And Heaven's eternal will proclaim,

That time shall be no more.

Thus while the labouring angel swell'd the sound,
And rent the skies, and shook the ground,
Up rose th' Almighty; round his sapphire seat
Adoring thrones in order fell;

The lesser powers at distance dwell,

And cast their glories down successive at his feet: Gabriel the Great prepares his way,

"Lift up your heads, eternal doors!" he cries; Th' eternal doors his word obey,

Open, and shoot celestial day

Upon the lower skies.

Heaven's mighty pillars bow'd their head,

As their Creator bid,

And down Jehovah rode from the superior sphere,
A thousand guards before, and myriads in the rear.

His chariot was a pitchy cloud,
The wheels beset with burning gems;
The winds in harness with the flames

Flew o'er th' ethereal road;
Down through his magazines he pass'd
Of hail, and ice, and fleecy snow;
Swift roll'd the triumph, and as fast
Did hail, and ice, in melted rivers flow.
The day was mingled with the night,
His feet on solid darkness trod,
His radiant eyes proclaim'd the God,
And scatter'd dreadful light;

He breath'd, and sulphur ran, a fiery stream:
He spoke, and (though with unknown speed he came)
Chid the slow tempest, and the lagging flame.

Sinai receiv'd his glorious flight;
With axle red, and glowing wheel,

Did the winged chariot light,

And rising smoke obscur'd the burning hill.
Lo, it mounts in curling waves;

Lo, the gloomy pride out-braves

The stately pyramids of fire:
The pyramids to Heaven aspire,

[higher.

And mix with stars, but see their gloomy oflspring So have you seen ungrateful ivy grow

Round the tall oak that six-score years has stood,

And proudly shoot a leaf or two

Above its kind supporter's utmost bough,

And glory there to stand the loftiest of the wood.

Forbear, young Muse, forbear;
The flowery things that pocts say,
The little arts of simile

Are vain and useless here;
Nor shall the burning hills of old
With Sinai be compar'd,

Nor all that lying Greece has told,

Or learned Rome has heard; Etna shall be nam'd no more, Etna the torch of Sicily;

Not half so high

Her lightnings fly,

Not half so loud her thunders roar

Cross the Sicanian sea, to fright th' Italian shore.
Behold the sacred hill: its trembling spire

Quakes at the terrours of the fire
While all below its verdant feet
Stagger and reel under th' Almighty weight:
Press'd with a greater than feign'd Atlas' load,
Deep groan'd the mount; it never bore

Infinity before,

It bow'd, and shook beneath the burthen of a God.
Fresh horrours seize the camp; despair,
And dying groans, torment the air,

And shrieks, and swoons, and deaths were there:
The bellowing thunder, and the lightning's blaze
Spread through the host a wild amaze;
Darkness on every soul, and pale was every face:
Confus'd and dismal were the cries,
"Let Moses speak, or Israel dies:"
Moses the spreading terrour feels,

No more the Man of God conceals

His shivering and surprise;

Yet, with recovering mind, commands

[bands.

Silence, and deep attention, through the Hebrew

Hark! from the centre of the flame,
All arm'd and feather'd with the same,
Majestic sounds break through the smoky cloud :
Sent from the All-creating tongue,

A flight of cherubs guard the words along,
And bear their fiery law to the retreating crowd.
"I am the Lord: 'Tis I proclaim
That glorious and that fearful name,
Thy God and King: 'twas I that broke
Thy bondage, and th' Egyptian yoke;
Mine is the right to speak my will,
And thine the duty to fulfil.

Adore no God beside me, to provoke mine eyes:
Nor worship me in shapes and forms that men de-

vise; [to jest ; With reverence use my name, nor turn my words Observe my sabbath well, nor dare profane my rest; Honour and due obedience to thy parents give; Nor spill the guiltless blood, nor let the guilty live: Preserve thy body chaste, and flee th' unlawful bed; Nor steal thy neighbour's gold, his garment, or his bread;

Forbear to blast his name with falsehood, or deceit; Nor let thy wishes loose upon his large estate."

REMEMBER YOUR CREATOR, &c.

ECCLES. XIII.

CHILDREN, to your Creator, God,

Your early honours pay, While vanity and youthful blood

Would tempt your thoughts astray. The memory of his mighty name

Demands your first regard;
Nor dare indulge a meaner flame,
Till you have lov'd the Lord.

Be wise, and make his favour sure,
Before the mournful days,

When youth and mirth are known no more,
And life and strength decays.

No more the blessings of a feast
Shall relish on the tongue;

The heavy ear forgets the taste
And pleasure of a song.

Old age, with all her dismal train,
Invades your golden years
With sighs and groans, and raging pain,
And Death, that never spares.
What will ye do when light departs,
And leaves your withering eyes
Without one beam, to cheer your hearts,
From the superior skies?

How will you meet God's frowning brow,
Or stand before his seat,
While nature's old supporters bow,

Nor bear their tottering weight?
Can you expect your feeble arms
Shall make a strong defence,
When Death, with terrible alarms,
Summons the prisoner hence?
The silver bands of nature burst,
And let the building fall;

The flesh goes down to mix with dust,

Its vile original.

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »