A

PARAPHRASE

On the CXLVIII.

PSALM.

By the Earl of Roscommon.

O

Azure Vaults! O Crystal Sky!

The World's transparent Canopy,

Break your long filence, and let Mortals know, With what contempt you look on things below.

Wing'd Squadrons of the God of War,
Who Conquer wherefo'er you are,

Let

Let Ecchoing Anthems make his Praises known

On Earth,his Footstool,as in Heav'n his Throne.
Great Eye of All, whofe Glorious Ray
Rules the bright Empire of the Day.

O praise his Name, without whofe purer Light, Thou hadst been hid in an Abyss of Night:

Ye Moon and Planets who difpence,

By God's Command your Influence.

Refign to him, as your Creator, due,
That Veneration which Men pay to you;
Faireft, as well as firft of things,

From whom all Joy, all Beauty fprings.

O praise the Almighty Ruler of the Globe,
Who ufeth thee for his Empyreal Robe:
ye loud harmonious Spheres,

Praise him

Whofe Sacred Stamp all Nature bears.

Who

Who did all Forms from the rude Chaos draw,

And whofe Command is th' univerfal Law;

Ye wat❜ry Mountains of the Sky,

And you fo far above our Eye.

Vaft ever-moving Orbs, Exalt his Name,
Who gave its being to your Glorious Frame :
Ye Dragons, whofe Contagious Breath
Peoples the dark Retreats of Death,

Change your fierce biffing into joyful Song, And praise your Maker with your forked Tongue. Praise him ye Monsters of the Deep.

That in the Seas vaft Bofoms fleep,

At whofe Command the foaming Billows roar,
Yet know their Limits, Tremble, and Adore
Ye Mifts and Vapours, Hail and Snow,
And you who through the Concave blow.

Whirlwinds and Tempest praise the Almi Mountains, who to your Maker's View Seem less than Mole-Hills do to you,

Remember how, when firft Jehovah spoke All Heaven was Fire, and Sinai hid in Sm Praise him sweet Off-spring of the Groun With Heavenly Nectar yearly Crown'd.

And ye tall Cedars, celebrate his Praife.
That in his Temple Sacred Altars raise :
Idle Muficians of the Spring,

Whofe only care's to Love and Sing,

Fly thro the world,and let your trembling Th Praise your Creator with the sweetest Note. Praise him each Salvage Furious Beast,

That on his Stores do daily feast.

And you tame Slaves of the Laborious Plow,
Your weary Knees to your Creator bow:

Majeftick Monarchs, Mortal Gods,

Whofe Power hath here no Periods:

May all Attempts againft your Crown be vain,
But ftill remember by whofe power you Reign:
Let the wide World his Praises fing,
Where Tagus and Euphrates fpring,

And from the Danube frofty Banks, to thofe, Where from an unknown head great Nilus flows You that difpofe of all our Lives,

Praife him from whom your power derives.

Be True and Juft, like him, and fear his Word,
As much as Malefactors do your Sword.
Praise him old Monuments of Time,

O praise him in your Youthful prime.