XXI.

Meffiah lives! Meffiah reigns!
The fong furmounts the airy plains,
T'attend her Lord with joys unknown,
And bear the victor to his throne.

XXII.

Rejoice, ye fhining worlds on high,
Behold the Lord of glory nigh:
Eternal doors, your leaves display,
To make the Lord of glory way.

XXIII.

What mortal bard his fkill or force

To paint these scenes, to tread this course,
Or furnish thro' th' ethereal road

A triumph for a rifing God?

XXIV.

Aftonish'd at fo vaft a flight

Thro' flaming worlds and floods of light,
My mufe her awful distance keeps,
Still following, but with trembling steps. `
XXV.

She bids her humble verse explain
The Hebrew harp's fublimer ftrain;
Points to her Saviour ftill, and shows
What course the fun of glory goes.
XXVI.

Here he afcends behind a cloud
Of incenfe, there he fets in blood;†
She reads his labours and his names
In fpicy smoke,* and bleeding lambs.†
XXVII.

Rich are the graces which fhe draws
From types, and fhades, and Jewish laws;
With thoufand glories long foretold
To turn the future age to gold.

XXVIII.

Grace is her theme, and joy, and love :
Defcend, ye bleffings, from above,
And crown my fong. Eternal God,
>Forgive the muse that dreads thy rod.

CHRIST's interceffion.

XXIX. Silent, His facrifice.

XXIX.

Silent, fhe hears thy vengeance roll,
That crushes mortals to the foul,
Nor dares affume the bolt, nor fheds
Th' immortal curfes on their heads.
XXX.

Yet fince her God is ftill the fame,
And David's fon is all her theme,
She begs fome humble place to fing
In concert with Judea's king.

An HY M N to CHRIST JESUS, the Eternal Life..

By the fame.

I.

7HERE fhall the tribes of Adam find

W

The fovereign good to fill the mind?
Ye fons of moral wisdom show,

The fpring whence living waters flow.
II.

Say, will the Stoic's flinty heart
Melt, and this cordial juice impart ?
Could Plato find these blissful ftreams,
Amongst his raptures and his dreams?

All our immortal hopes are laid
In thee, our furety, and our head;
Thy cross, thy cradle, and thy throne,
Are big with glories yet unknown.

VI.

Let Atheifts fcoff, and Jews blafpheme
Th' eternal life, and JESUS' name ;
A word of his almighty breath
Dooms the rebellious world to death.

VII.

But let my foul forever lye

Beneath the bleffings of thine eye;
'Tis heaven on earth, 'tis heaven above,
To fee thy face, to taste thy love.

W

Against LEWDNESS. By the fame.

I.

HY fhould you let your wand'ring eyes
Entice your fouls to fhameful fin!

Scandal and ruin are the prize

You take fuch fatal pains to win.

II.

This brutal vice makes reafon blind,

And blots the name with hateful stains:
It wastes the flesh, pollutes the mind,
And tears the heart with racking pains.
III.

Let David fpeak with heavy groans,
How it eftrang'd his foul from God,
Made him complain of broken bones,

And fill'd his house with wars and blood.
IV.

Let Solomon and Samfon tell

Their melancholy ftories here,

How bright they fhone, how low they fell,
When fin's vile pleasures cost them dear.

V.

In vain you chuse the darkest time,
Nor let the fun behold the fight
In vain you hope to hide your crime
Behind the curtains of the night;
VI.

The wakeful stars and midnight moon
Watch your foul deeds, and know

your shame ;

And

And God's own eye, like beams of noon,
Strikes through the shade, and marks your name..
VII.

What will ye do when heav'n inquires

Into those scenes of fecret fin?
And luft, with all its guilty fires,

Shall make your confcience rage within!
VIII.

How will you curse your wanton eyes,
Curfe the lewd partners of your shame,

When death, with horrible surprise,
Shews you the pit of quenchlefs flame?

IX.

Flee, finners, flee th' unlawful bed,

Left vengeance fend you down to dwell

In the dark regions of the dead,

To feed the fiercest fires of hell.

Against DRUNKENNESS. By the fame.

1.

S it not ftrange that every creature

I should know the meature of its thirst,

(They drink but to fupport their nature, And give due moisture to their dust ;)

II.

While man, vile man, whose nobler kind

Should fcorn to act beneath the beast,

Drowns all the glories of his mind,
And kills his foul to please his taste!
IIL

O what a hateful, shameful fight,

Are drunkards reeling through the street: Now they are fond, and now they fight, And pour their fhame on all they meet.

Is it fo exquifite a pleasure

IV.

To troll down liquor through the throat, And fwill, and know no bound nor measure, 'Till sense and reason are forgot?

U 3

V. Do

V.

Do they deferve th' immortal name
Of men, who fink fo far below?
Will God, the maker of their frame,
Endure to see them spoil it fo?

VI.

Can they e'er think of heaven and grace,
Or hope for glory when they die ?
Can fuch vile ghofts expect a place
Among the fhining fouls on high?
VII.

The meaneft feat is too refin'd
To entertain a drunkard there.
Ye finners of this loathfome kind,
Repent, or perish in despair.

The MIDNIGHT ELEVATION.

By the fame.
1.

OW reigns the night in her sublimest noon;

Nature lyes hund; the stars their watches keep;

I wait thy influence, gentle fleep,

Come, fhed thy choiceft poppies down
On every sense, sweet flumbers feal my eyes,
Tir'd with the scenes of day, with painted vanities.
II.

In vain I wish, in vain I try

To clofe my eyes, and learn to die; Sweet flumbers from my restless pillow fly: Then be my thoughts ferene as day,

Be fprightly as the light,

Swift as the fun's far-fhooting ray,

And take a vigorous flight :

Swift fly, my foul, tranfcend thefe dusky skies,

And trace the vital world that lies

Beyond thofe glimmering fires that gild and chear the

III.

There JESUS reigns, adored name !
The fecond on the throne fupreme :

[night,