"Prifoner, long detain'd below;

Prifoner, now with freedom bleft;

Welcome from a world of woe,

Welcome to a land of reft!"

Thus thy GUARDIAN ANGEL fang,

As he bore thy foul on high;

While with Hallelujahs rang

All the region of the sky.

-Ye that mourn a FATHER's lofs,

Ye that weep a FRIEND no more!

Call to mind the CHRISTIAN crofs,

Which your FRIEND, your FATHER bore.

Grief and penury and pain

Still attended on his way,

And Cppreffion's fcourge and chain,

More unmerciful than they.

Yet while travelling in distress,

('Twas the eldeft curfe of fin)

Thro' the world's waste wilderness,

He had Paradife within.

And along that vale of tears,

Which his humble footsteps trod,

Still a fhining path appears,

Where the MOURNER walk'd with GOD.

Till his MASTER, from above,

When the promised hour was come,

Sent the chariot of his love

To convey the WANDERER home.

Saw ye not the wheels of fire,

And the fteeds that cleft the wind?

Saw ye not his foul afpire,

When his mantle drop'd behind?

126 TO THE MEMORY OF JOSEPH BROWNE,

Ye that caught it as it fell,

Bind that mantle round your breaft;

So in you his meeknefs dwell,

So on you his fpirit reft!

Yet, rejoicing in his lot,

Still fhall memory love to weep

O'er the venerable spot,

Where his dear cold relicks flcep

Grave! the guardian of his duft,

Grave! the treafury of the fkies,

Every atom of thy truft

Refts in hope again to rise.

Hark! the judgment-trumpet calls,

"Soul re-build thine houfe of clay:

IMMORTALITY thy walls,

And ETERNITY thy day!"

THE THUNDER STORM.

FOR Evening's brownest shade!

Where the breezes play by ftealth

In the foreft-cinctured glade,

Round the hermitage of HEALTH:

While the noon-bright mountains blaze

In the fun's tormenting rays.

O'er the fick and fultry plains,

Thro' the dim delirious air,

Agonizing filence reigns,

And the wannefs of despair:

Nature faints with fervent heat,

-Ah! her pulfe hath ceased to beat!

Now in deep and dreadful gloom,

Clouds on clouds portentous fpread,

Black as if the day of doom

Hung o'er NATURE's fhrinking head:

Lo! the lightning breaks from high,
-GOD is coming!-GOD is nigh!

Hear ye not his chariot wheels,

As the mighty thunder rolls?

NATURE, ftartled NATURE reels,

From the centre to the poles:

Tremble!-Ocean, Earth, and Sky!

Tremble!-GOD is paffing by!

Darkness, wild with horror, forms
His myfterious hiding place;

Should He, from his ark of ftorms,

Rend the veil and fhew his face,