« AnteriorContinuar »
GR A T IT U D E.
BY THE SA M E.
Wmen all thy mercies, O My God!
My rising foul surveys; Transported with the view, I'm loft
In wonder, love, and praife!
O! how shall words with equal warmth
The gratitude declare,
But thou canst read it there.
Thy providence my life fustainid,
And all my wants redrest, When in the filent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.
To all my weak complaints and cries,
Thy mercy lent an ear,
To form themselves in pray’r.
Unnumber'd comforts to my soul
Thy tender care bestow'd, Before my infant heart conceiv'd
From whom those comforts flow'd.
When in the lipp'ry paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,
And lod me up to man.
Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths,
It gently clear'd my way,
More to be fear'd than they.
When worn with sickness, oft hast thou
With health renew'd my face,
Reviv'd my soul with grace.
Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss
Has made my cup run o'er,
Has doubled all my store.
Ten thousand thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ,
That tastes those gifts with joy.
Through every period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
When nature fails, and day and night
Divide thy works no more,
Thy mercy shall adore.
Through all eternity to thee
A joyful fong I'll raise, For, oh! eternity's too short
To utter all thy praise.
C R Ε Α Τ Ι ο Ν.
B 7 THE SAME.
The lofty pillars of sky,
Soon as th’ev’ning shades prevail,
Whilft all the stars, that round her burn,
What though, in folemn filence, all
A WINTER PIECE.
ADDRESSED TO THE DUKE OF DORSET.
From frozen climes, and endless tracts of snow,
By snow difguis'd in bright confusion lie,
No gentle-breathing breeze prepares the spring,
And yet but lately have I seen ev'n here, The winter in a lovely dress appear. E'er yet the cloucis let fall the treasur'd snow, Or winds begun through hazy skies to blow. At ev'ning a keen eastern breeze arose; And the descending rain unfully'd froze. Soon as the filent shades of night withdrew, The ruddy morn disclos'd at once to view The face of nature in a rich disguise, And brighten'd ev'ry object to my eyes: For ev'ry shrub, and ev'ry blade of grass, And ev'ry pointed thorn, seem'd wrought in glass; In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show, While through the ice the crimson berries glow.