• Yet can those bolts of death that 4 In vain the Spanish ocean roar'd;
cleave the flood [shroud, To teach a rebel, pierce this sacred Ting'd in the vital stream of my Redeemer's blood?
The penitent pardoned.
1 HENCE from mysoul, my sins, depart,
Your fatal friendship now I see;
Long have you dwelt too near myheart,
Hence, to eternal distance flee.
2 Ye gave my dying Lord his wound,
Yet I caress'd your vip'rous brood,
And in my heart-strings lapp'd you
round,
You, the vile murderers of my God. 3 Black heavy thoughts, like mountains,
Its billows swell'd against our shore,
Its billows sunk beneath thy word,
With all the floating war they bore.
5 Come, said the sons of bloody Rome,
Let us provide new arms from hell:"
And down they digg'd thro' earth's
And ransack'd all the burning cell.
6 Old Satan lent them fiery stores,
Infernal coal, and sulph'rous flame,
And all that burns, and all that roars,
Outrageous fires of dreadful name.
7 Beneath the senate and the throne,
Engines of hellish thunder lays;
There the dark seeds of fire were sown,
To spring a bright but dismal day.
O'er mypoor breast, with boding fears, 8 Thy love beheld the black design,
And crushing hard my tortured soul,
Wring thro' my eyes the briny tears.
4 Forgive my treasons, Prince of grace,
The bloody Jews were traitors too,
Yet thou hast pray'd for that curs'd
race,
[do."
"Father, they know not what they
5 Great Advocate, look down and see
Awretch, whose smarting sorrowsbleed;
O plead the same excuse for me!
For, Lord, I knew not what I did.
6 Peace, my complaints; let ev'ry groan
Bestill, and silence wait his love;
Compassions dwell amidst his throne,
And thro' his inmost bowels move.
7 Lo, from the everlasting skies,
Gently, as morning-dewsdistil,
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 pow'rs adore the grace.
A hymn of praise for three great salva-
vations; viz.
1 From the Spanish Invasion, 1581.
9 From the Gun-powder Plot, Nov. 5.
3 From Popery and Slavery by King
William of glorious memory, who
landed, Nov. 5, 1688.
Composed Nov. 5. 1695.
1 INFINITE God, the 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 heav'n of angels praise;
Our labouring tongues would reach
With the loud triumphs of thy grace. 3 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."
Thy love that guards our island round;
Strange! how it quench'd the fiery
mine,
And crush'd the tempest underground,
1 ASSUME, my tongue, a nobler strain,
Sing the new wonders of the Lord;
The foes revive their pow'rs again,
Again they die beneath his sword.
2 Dark as our thoughts our minutes roll,
While tyranny possess'd the throne,
And murd'rers of an Irish soul
Ran, threatning death, thro'ev'ry town.
3 The Roman priest, and British prince,
Join'd their best force, and blackest
[France
And the fierce troops of neighbouring
Offer'd the service of their arms.
4 " 'Tis done," they cry'd, and laugh'd
aloud,
The courts of darkness rang with joy,
Th' old serpent hiss'd, and bell grew
While Zion mourn'd her ruin nigh.
5 But lo, the great Deliverer sails
Commission'd from Jehovah's hand,
And smiling seas, and wishing gales,
Convey him to the longing land.
6 The happy day, and happy year,
Both in our new salvation meet:
Thedaythatquench'd theburningsnare,
The year that burnt th' invading fleet.
7 Now did thine arm, O God of hosts,
Nowdidthine armshine dazzlingbright,
The sons of might their hands had lost,
And men of blood forgot to fight.
8 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.
9 Then, mighty God, the earth shall
And learn the worship of the sky,
Angels and Britons join below,
To raise their Hallelujahs high.
The world's bright roof repeats the joy.
The Incomprehensible.
1 FAR in the heav'ns my God retires,
My God, the mark of my desires,
And hides his lovely face;
When he descends within my view,
He charms my reason to pursue,
But leaves it tir'd and fainting in th'
unequal chase.
Or if I reach unusual height
Till near his presence brought,
There floods of glory check myflight,
Cramp the bold pinions of my wit,
And all untune my thought;
Plung'd in a sea of light I roll,
Where wisdom, justice, mercy shines;
Infinite rays in crossing lines
Beat thick confusion on my sight,
and overwhelm my soul.
Come to my aid, ye fellow-minds,
And help me reach the throne;
(What single strength, in vain de-
" And inine must be as they."
9 Thus shall our mould'ring members
teach
What now our senses learn :
For dust and ashes loudest preach
Man's infinite concern.
A Sight of Heaven in Sickness.
1 OFT have I sat in secret sighs,
To feel my flesh decay,
Then groan'd aloud with frighted eyes,
To view the tott'ring clay.
2 But I forbid my sorrows now,
Nor dares the flesh complain;
Diseases bring their profit too;
The joy o'ercomes the pain.
United force hath done; (poles, 3 My cheerful soul now all the day
Thus worms may join, and grasp the
Thus atoms fill the sea)
But the whole race of creature-souls Stretch'd to theirlast extent of thought, plunge and are lost in thee.
4 Great God, behold my reason lies
Adoring; yet iny love would rise
On pinions not her own;
Faith shall direct her humble flight,
Thro' all the trackless seas of light,
To Thee, th' eternal Fair, the Infinite
Unknown.
Death and Eternity.
1 MY thoughts, that often mount the
Go, search the world beneath, Where nature in all ruin lies,
And owns her sovereign, death.
2 The tyrant, how he triumphs here!
His trophies spread around!
And heaps of dust and bones appear
Thro' all the hollow ground.
3 These sculls, what ghastly figures now!
How loathsome to the eyes?
These are the heads we lately knew
So beauteous and so wise.
4 But where the souls, those deathless
things,
That left this dying clay? [wings, My thoughts, now stretch out all your And trace eternity.
5 O that unfathomable sea!
Those deeps without a shore! Where living waters gently play, Or fiery billows roar.
Šits waiting here and sings;
Looks thro' the ruins of her clay,
And practises her wings.
5 Faith almost changes into sight,
While from afar she spies,
Her fair inheritance, in flight
Above created skies.
5 Had but the prison walls been strong,
And firm without a flaw,
In darkness she had dwelt too long,
And less of glory saw.
6 But now the everlasting hills
Thro' every chink appear,
And something of the joy she feels
While she's a pris'ner here.
7 The shines of heaven rush sweetly in
At all the gaping flaws:
Visions of endless bliss are seen:
And native air she draws.
8 O may these walls stand tott'ring still,
The breaches never close,
If I must here in darkness dwell,
And all this glory lose!
9 Or rather let this flesh decay,
The ruins wider grow,
'Till glad to see th' enlarged way,
I stretch my pinions through.
The Universal Hallelujah.
Psalm cxlviii. Paraphrased.
I PRAISE ye the Lord with joyful
Ye pow'rs that guard his throne;
Jesus the man shall lead the song,
The God inspire the tune.
2 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.
3 Shine to his praise, ye crystal skies,
The floor of his abode,
Or veil your little twinkling eyes
Before a brighter God.
4 Thou restless globe of golden light,
Whose beams create our days,
Join with the silver queen of night,
To own your borrow'd rays.
5 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
Thro' the ethereal blue,
For when his chariot is a cloud,
He makes his wheels of you.
7 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:
9 While monsters sporting on the flood,
In scaly silver shine,
Speak terribly their Maker God,
And lash the foaming brine.
10 But gentler things shall tune his name
To softer notes than these,
Young zephyrs breathing o'er the
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By the last agonies of death Sent down to fiercer pains.
3 Ye stand upon a dreadful steep,
And all beneath is hell;
Your weighty guilt will sink you deep,
Where the old serpent fell.
4 When iron slumbers bind your flesh,
With strange surprise you'll find
Immortal vigour spring afresh,
And tortures wake the mind!
5 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.
6 Then shall ye curse that fatal day,
(With flames upon your tongues)
When you exchang'd your souls away
For vanity and songs.
7 Behold the saints rejoice to die,
For heav'n shines round their heads; And angel guards prepar'd to fly. Attend their fainting beds.
8 Their longing spirits part, and rise
To their celestial seat;
Above these ruinable skies
They make their last retreat.
9 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.
1 ARMthee with thunder, heavenlymuse,
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
He spoke, and, tho' with unknown speed he came,
Chid the slow tempest, and the lagging
Sinai received his glorious flight, With axle red, and glowing wheel Did the winged chariot light, And rising smoke obscur'd the burning bill.
Lo, it mounts in curling waves, Lo, the gloomy pride out-braves The stately pyramids of fire The pyramids to heav'n aspire, And mix with stars, but see their gloomy offspring higher. So have you seen ungrateful ivy grow Round the tall oak that sixscore 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
Forbear, young muse, forbear; The flow'ry things that poets 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;
Ætna shall be nam'd no more,
Ætna, the torch of Sicily;
Not half so high
Her lightnings fly,
Not half so loud her thunders róar Cross the Sicanian sea, to fright the [spire Behold the sacred hill: Its trembling Quakes at the terrors of the fire, While all below its verdant feet Stagger and reel under th' almighty
Press'd with a greater than feign'd
Deep groan'd the mount; it never bore Infinity before.
It bow'd, and shook beneath the burden of a God.
11 "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' Egyptianyoke;
Mine is the right to speak my will,
And thine the duty to fulfil.
10 Laden with guilt, (a beavy load)
Uncleans'd and unforgiv'n,
The soul returns t' an angry God,
To be shut out from heav'n.
Sun, Moon, and Stars, praise ye the
Adore no God beside me, to provoke 1 FAIREST of all the lights above,
Nor worship me in shapes and forms
that men devise; With rev'rence use my name, nor turn my words to jest; Observe my sabbath well, nor dare profane my rest;
Honour, and due obedience, to thy
Thou sun, whose beams adorn the
spheres,
And with unweary'd swiftness move,
To form the circles of our years;
2 Praise the Creator of the skies,
That dress'd thine orb in golden rays:
Or may the sun forget to rise,
If he forget his Maker's praise.
Nor spill the guiltless blood, nor let 3 Thou reigning beauty of the night,
Preserve thy body chaste, and flee the
Nor steal thy neighbour's gold, his gar- 4 Arise, and to that sov'reign pow'r
Fair queen of silence, silver moon, Whose gentle beams & borrow'd light, Are softer rivals of the noon;
Nor let thy wishes loose upon his large
Waxing and waning honours pay, Who bid thee rule the dusky hour, And half supply the absent day. 5 Ye twinkling stars, who gild the skies When darkness has it curtains drawn, Who keep your watch, with wakeful
Forbear to blast his name with false
Remember your Creator, &c. Eccl. xii.
1 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.
3 Be wise, and make his favour sure,
Before the mournful days,
[more,
When youth and mirth are known no
And life and strength decays.
4 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 you do when light departs,
And leaves your with'ring 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 tott'ring weight?
• Can you expect your feeble arms
Shall make a strong defence,
When death, with terrible alarms,
Suminous the pris'ner hence
The silver bonds of nature burst,
And let the building fall;
The flesh goes down to mix with dust,
Its vile original.
[gone; When business, cares, and day are 6 Proclaim the glories of your Lord,
Dispers'd thro'all the heav'nlystreet,
Whose boundless treasures can afford
So rich a pavement for his feet.
7 Thou heav'n of heav'ns, supremely
bright,
Fair palace of the court divine,
Where, with inimitable light,
The Godhead condescends to shine.
8 Praise thou thy great Inhabitant,
Who scatters lovely beams of grace
On ev'ry angel, ev'ry saint,
Nor veils the lustre of his face.
9 O God of glory, God of love, [days:
Thou art the Sun that makes our
With all thy shining works above,
Let earth & dust attempt thy praise.
The Welcome Messenger.
1 LORD, when we see a saint of thine
Lie gasping out his breath,
With longing eyes, and looks divine,
Smiling and pleas'd in death:
2 How we could e'en contend to lay
Our limbs upon that bed!
We ask thine envoy to convey
Our spirits in his stead.
3 Our souls are rising on the wing,
To venture in his place :
For when grim death has lost his sting,
He has an angel's face.
4 Jesus, then purge my crimes away,
'Tis guilt creates my fears,
'Tis guilt gives death its fierce array,
And all the arms it bears.
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