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As angels round Thy seat above,
With joyful haste and ardent love,
Thy blest commands fulfil;
So let Thy creatures here below,
As far as Thou hast giv'n to know,
Perform Thy sacred will.
On Thee we day by day depend,
Our being's Author, and its end;
Our daily wants supply:
With healthful meat our bodies fed,
Our souls sustain'd with living bread;
Our souls, that never die !
Extend Thy grace to ev'ry fault;
Each sinful action, word, and thought,
Oh! let Thy love forgive:
For Thou hast taught our hearts to show
Divine forgiveness to our foe,
Nor let resentment live.
Where tempting snares bestrew the way, To lead unwary minds astray,
Permit us not to tread : Unless Thy gracious aid appear, T'avert the threat'ning evil near,
From our unguarded head.
Thy sacred name we thus adore,
And thus Thy choicest gifts implore,
With joyful humble mind;
Because Thy power and glory prove
Thy kingdom built on wisdom, love
On the latter Part of the Sixth Chapter of St. Matthew.-Thomson.
WHEN my breast labours with oppressive care,
And o'er my cheek descends the falling tear;
While all my warring passions are at strife,
O, let me listen to the words of life!
Raptures deep-felt His doctrine did impart,
And thus He raised from earth the drooping heart.
Think not, when all, your scanty stores afford,
Is spread at once upon the sparing board;
Think not, when worn the homely robe appears,
While, on the roof, the howling tempest bears;
What farther shall this feeble life sustain,
And what shall clothe these shiv'ring limbs. again.
Say, does not life its nourishment exceed.?
And the fair body its investing weed?
Behold! and look away your low despair-
See the light tenants of the barren air :
To them, nor stores, nor granaries, belong,
Nought but the woodland, and the pleasing song;
Yet, your kind heavenly Father bends His eye
On the least wing, that fits along the sky.
To Him they sing, when Spring renews the plain,
To Him they cry, in Winter's pinching reign;
Nor is their music, nor their plaint in vain :
He hears the gay, and the distressful call,
And with unsparing bounty fills them all.
Observe the rising lily's snowy grace,
Observe the various vegetable race;
They neither toil, nor spin, but careless grow,
Yet see how warm they blush! how bright they
What regal vestments can with them compare!
What king so shining! or what queen so fair!
If, ceaseless, thus the fowls of heaven He feeds,
If o'er the fields such lucid robes He spreads;
Will He not care for you, ye faithless, say y?
Is He unwise? or, are ye less than they?
THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.-Dale.
Luke vii. v. 12, 13.-Behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And when the LORD saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not.
THE mourner, speechless and amaz'd,
On that mysterious Stranger gazed-
If young he were, 'twas only seen
From lines that told what once had been ;
As if the wind of time
Had smote him, ere he reached his prime.
The bright rose on his cheek was faded,
His pale fair brow with sadness shaded-
Yet, thro' the settled sorrow there,
A conscious grandeur flashed, and told
Unswayed by man and uncontrolled,
Himself had deigned their lot to share,
And borne-because he willed to bear-
Whate'er his being or his birth,
His soul had never stooped to earth;
Nor mingled with the meaner race,
Who shared or swayed his dwelling place;
But high, mysterious, and unknown,
Held converse with itself alone:
And yet the look that could depress
Pride to its native nothingness,
And bid the specious boaster shun
The 'eye he dar'd not gaze upon,
Superior love did still reveal:
Not such as man for man may feel,
No, all was passionless and pure-
That God-like majesty of woe
Which counts it glory to endure,
And knows nor hope nor fear below,
Nor aught that still to earth can bind,
But love and pity for mankind.
And in his eye a radiance shone-
Oh! how shall mortal dare essay,
On whom no prophet's vest is thrown,
To paint that pure celestial ray!
Mercy, and tenderness, and love,
And all that finite sense can deem
Of Him who reigns enthroned above;
Light such as blessed Isaiah's dream,
When to the awe-struck prophet's eyes,
GOD bade the Star of Judah rise
Where heaven in living lustre glow'd,
"There shone the SAVIOUR, there the GOD.
A Paraphrase on the Thirteenth Chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians.-Prior.
DID sweeter sounds adorn my flowing tongue,
Than ever man pronounced, or angel sung;
Had I all knowledge, human and divine,
That thought can reach, or science can define;
And had I power to give that knowledge birth,
In all the speeches of the babbling earth;
Did Shadrach's zeal my glowing breast inspire,
To weary tortures, and rejoice in fire;
Or had I faith like that which Israel saw,
When Moses gave them miracles and law;
Yet, gracious Charity, indulgent guest,
Were not thy power exerted in my breast,
Those speeches would send up unheeded prayer;
That scorn of life would be but wild despair;
A cymbal's sound were better than my voice;
My faith were form; my eloquence were noise.
Charity, decent, modest, easy, kind,
Softens the high, and rears the abject mind; Knows with just reins and gentle hand to guide Betwixt vile shame and arbitrary pride: