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The only Blest, tbe All-sufficient weeps,
But oh! who guides the stagg'ring world, while its Pro«
tector sleeps ?

V.
And can'st thou, man, ungrateful prove!

When 'twas for thy salvation
He left those splendid seats above,

His late bright habitation;
Where all his Deity shone without th' allay
Of a seraphic vehicle, or defecated clay.

VI.
Where he transcendently possess’d '

The fullness of perfection;
Tho' here benighted and opprest,

The type of-a-l dejection.
He asks for food who gave the ravens bread,
And the great founder of the world wants where to lay his
head.

VII.
But oh! what dark catastrophe

Does hell at last conspire!
Behold, upon the cursed tree,

The Lord of Life expire:
From this, amaz’d, the sun withdraws his eye,
Afraid to see his Maker bleed, and the Eternal die.

VIII.
The seraphim that throng'd about

'Twixt hope and consternation, Now blaze the wond'rous news about

The radiant corporation ;
Who vainly strive the mystery to scan,
And fathom the stupendous depth of this great love to
man.

IX.
He on the rights of justice stood

With their exalted nature,
Who now thro' streams of sacred blood

Wafts the terrestrial creature,
Wafts dusty man to that felicity
Which the apostate fons of light must never hope to see.'

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TE DEUM paraphrased. By Mr. Dennis.

1.
A Long adieu to mortal lays,
A Our voice t'immortal heights we raise,
And sing the great Creator's praile.
Thy praise, o God, thy boundless praise,
In more than human sounds we fing,
O for an angel's tow’ring wing!
O rather for thy spirit to sustain

Each matchless strain,
That it may reach eternal heights,
And in its lofty, daring flights,
The heaven of heavens may scale.
Raise all your voices, strike your strings,

'Tis God, 'tis God we sing ;
Sound all and cry with one accord,
Hail, thou supreme of things!
The world's great Author hail !
Hail infinite Eternal King,
The God above all heights ador'd!
We all confess and all obey,
Prostrate and low, and trembling, all
Before thy dreadful Majesty we fall,
Acknowledging thy boundless sway.

II.
Such homage to their eastern kings
The Indian and the Persian brings:
But eastern kings Calas] to thee
Vain fantoms are of royalty ;
That with a false delusive pow'r
Appear and vanish in an hour.
For thee, what homage shall we find ?
Infinite, independent mind.
What homage worthy of the God
Who can unmake us with a nod ?
Look from thy awful throne on high,
And with thy omnipresent eye
Into our souls recesses pry:

There

There fee an homage worthy thee,
Worthy eternal Majesty, a
See profound humility;
See souls entirely mortify'd, ..
Down sensless vanity and pride:
Vile as thou art, vain man, appear,
Behold Omnipotence is here.
When he who only is, when he
Appears, what worms, what mites are we?
Nay, we are not, we only seem,
We're scarce a shadow, scarce a dream ; .
A sensless dream of what is not,
That passes and is straight forgot.
Thou only art, for what thou art
Thou always will be, always wert;
For thou are permanent and fix'd,
Uncreated, and unmix'd ;
The radiant heavens and rolling earth, '
Owe to thee their wond'rous birth;
Thou of ten thousand worlds art Lord,
And art by every world ador’d;
They all confess thy power divine,
For thee they move, for thee they shine,
And every world's forever thine.
-

III.
And this groat planet earth, which rolls
Incessantly around its poles ;
And till the end of time must run
Its giant race about the fun;
And moving round the lamp of day,
O’ertake the seasons in its way;
While slanting in its oblique flight,
It shortens or prolongs the night;
Thee motion's fountain, and its source,
It worships in its endless course ;
Thee, while it turns about the sphere,
Accomplishing the mighty year,
Its great Creator thee it serves,
And thy eternal laws observes.
Creatures to whom great mother earth,
Fermented by thy fame, gave birth;

All

All that on Lybian mountains roar,
Or flounder on the Indian shore ;
All that in airy caravans on high,
Intelligent of seasons fly,
Thro' the vast defarts of th' aerial sky,
Ali to their Maker adoration pay, .
All constantly thy several laws obey,
Which their distinguish'd tribes and different nations

fway,

Their seasons pre-ordain’d by thee they know, i
At thy command they come, at thy command they go.

IV.

None but irregular man thy rightful sway,
Impious irregular man dares disobey;
Yet impious man too thee adores,
Thee from Cathaian to Peruvian fhores,
With nameless rights, unnumber'd tongues,

He every hour implores.
Before thy feet earth's numerous kingdoms all,
Before thy feet a thousand monarchs fall,
And thee their everlasting Father call.
And thus they cry, thy potent breath,
Our great forefather call's from more than death.
When thou said'It let him be, the sound
Drew him wond’ring from the ground;
Before thee low the world's great rulers bow,
Thou art our God, our mighty maker thou,
Thou form’dst us at the first, and thou sustain'st us

now.

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Now let us earth and earthly things disdain,
Now let us try a loftier strain,
Now let our souls to heaven repair,
Direct tlieir most aspiring flight,
To fields of uncreated light,
And dare to draw empyreal air. -
'Tis done, oh place divinely bright!
Oh sons of god divinely fair!
Oh sight! unutterable sight!
Oh unconceivable delight!
Oh joy, which only Gods can bear!

Hark

Hark how their blissful notes they raise,
And sing th' eternal Maker's praise ;
How in ecstatic song they cry,

Lo we the glorious fons of light,
So great, so beautiful, so bright!
Lo we the brightest of created things,

Who are all flame, all force, all spirit, and all eye,
Are yet but vile, and nothing in thy light.
Before thy feet, mighty King of Kings,

O Maker of this boundless all !
Thus lowly reverent we fall!
Thou know'st how many of us fell
To lowest shame and lowest hell ;
But thou art holy, thou, O Lord,
Art only fit to be implor'd,
Of sacred sabbath God ador'd!
And thus they pass eternity.
To thee all angels in the sky,
And all archangels loudly cry;
The mighty cherubim
Answer the flaming seraphim,

Holy, continually they cry!
O holy, holy, holy Lord,
Of sacred sabbath God ador’d.
From them dominions catch the blissful song,

And thrones the glorious theme prolong;
Holy continually they cry,
Th’ harmonious thunder rolls along the skies,
And to the golden orbs it flies
The vast intelligences all on fire,'
With flaming zeal complete th' immortal quire.
To sing the great Creator, all conspire ;
All ranks divinely touch the living lyre :
O holy, holy, holy Lord,
Of sacred sabbath God ador'd !
Holy, th' empyrean spirits cry,
Holy, the regents of the orbs reply.
To the great strain they tune their spheres,
And ravish even immortal ears:
And all th' harmonious worlds on high

. D

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