ADDRESS TO THE DEITY,-Merrick.

PART I.

God of my health, whose tender care

First gave me pow'r to move,
How shall my thankful heart declare

The wonders of Thy love?
While void of thought and sense I lay,

Dust of my parent earth,
Thy breath inform'd the sleeping clay,

And call’d me to the birth.

From Thee the parts their fashion took,

And, ere my life begun, Within the volume of Thy hook

Were written one by one.
Thine eye beheld in open view

The yet unfinish'd plan;
The shadowy lines Thy pencil drew,

And form'd the future man.

Oh! may this frame, which rising grew

Beneath thy plastic hands, Be studious ever to pursue

Whate'er Thy will commands. The soul which moves this earthly load, :

Thy semblance let it bear, Nor lose the traces of the GOD,

Who stamp'd His image there.

PART II.

Thou, who within this earthly shrine

Hast pour'd Thy quick’ning ray, Oh! let Thy influence on me shine,

And purge each mist away. With curious search let others ask

Through Nature's depth to see; Oh! teach my soul the better task,

To know itself and Thee.

Teach me to know how weak the mind,'

That yields to erring pride ;
And make my doubting reason find

Thy word its safest guide.
Let me not, lost in learning's maze,

Religion's flame resign:
For what's the worth of human praise,

Compared, my God, to Thine

presents before

my sight

Keep in my soul the strong delight,

The hopes that in me rise,
While Faith

The bliss that never dies.
Oh! be those hopes my only boast,

That faith my whole employ;
Till faith in knowledge shall be lost,

And hope in fullest joy.

PART III.

A

Where'er I turn my wakeful thought,

Unnumber'd foes I see;
Guide of my youth, forsake me not,

But lead me safe to Thee.
As on I press, distrust and doubt

Dissuasive step between;
While pleasures tempt me from without,

And passions war within.

Yet fix'd on Thee, I lose each fear, ,

Each vain assault I brave;
I know Thee, LORD, not slow to hear,

Nor impotent to save.
Oh! cast my errors fronı Thy sight,

And let them pass away
Unheeded, as a watch by night,

Or as a cloud by day.

Só while, in secret thought arraign'd,

O'er my past life I go,
And mark how oft I urg'd Thy hand

To strike th' avenging blow:
So oft shall my repeated lays

My thankful heart declare, And joy to celebrate Thy praise,

Whose mercy deign'd to spare,

ON THE WORKS OF CREATION.

BEAUTY complete, and majesty divine, In all Thy works, ador'd Creator, shine. Where'er I cast my wond'ring eyes around, The God I seek in every part is found. Pursuing Thee, the flow'ry fields I trace, And read Thy name on ev'ry spire of grass. I follow Thee thro' many a lonely shade, And find Thee in the solitary glade. I meet Thee in the kind refreshing gale, That gently passes thro' the dewġ vale. The pink, the jasmin, and the purple rose, Perfum'd by Thee, their flagrant leaves disclose, The feather'd choir, that welcome in the spring, By Thee were taught their various notes to sing. By Thee the Morning in her crimson vest And ornaments of golden clouds is drest. The Sun, in all his splendour, wears Thy beams, And drinks in light from Thy exhaustless streams. The Moon reveals Thee by her glimm’ring ray; Unnumber'd Stars Thy glorious paths display. Amidst the solemn darkness of the night, The thoughts of God my musing soul delight. Thick shades and night Thy dread pavilion form; In state Thou rid'st upon the flying storm; While Thy strong hand its fiercest rage restrains, And holds the wild unmanag'd winds in reins. What sparklings of Thy majesty appear, When thro' the firmament swift lightnings glare?

When peals of thunder fill the skies around,
I hear Thy voice in the tremendous sound.
But, oh! how small a part is known of Thee,
From all Thy works' immense variety.
Whatever mortal men perfection name,
Thou, in an infinite degree, dost claim.

And while I here Thy faintest shadows trace,
I pine to see the glories of Thy face;
Where beauty, in its never-changing height
And uncreated excellence, shines bright.
When shall the heav'nly scene, without control,
Open in dazzling triumph on my soul
My pow'rs, with all their ardour, shall adore,
And languish for terrestrial charms no more.

THE BIBLE.

HAIL sacred volume of eternal truth!
Thou staff of age! thou guide of wand'ring youth!
Thou art the race which all that run shall win,
Thou the sole shield against the darts of sin;
Thou giv'st the weary rest, the poor man wealth,
Strength to the weak, and to the lazar health.

1

Lead me, my KING! my SAVIOUR! and my

God! Through all those paths thy sainted servants trod! Teach me thy twofold nature to explore, Copy the human, the Divine adore.