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HOW useless and unhappy are those idle mortals who in the morning count the tedious hours of the day, complain of their number, and lay out part of them in contriving how to squander the rest.

An Hymn to the CREATOR.
GOD of my health! whose bounteous care

First gave me power to move,
How shall my thankful heart declare

The wonders of thy love?

Whilft void of thought and sense I lay,

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

And call'd me into birth.

From thee my parts their fashion took,

And e'er my life begun,
Within the volume of thy book

Were written one by one.

Thy eye beheld in open view

The yet unfinished plan;
The shadowvy lines thy pencil drew,

And form'd the future man,

O may this frame that rising grew

Beneath thy plastic hands,
Be ftudious ever to pursue

Whate'er thy will commands.

The soul that moves this earthly load

Thy semblance let it bear,
Nor loose the traces of the God,

That stamp'd his image there,

THE refinements of dissipation have arisen to such a pitch, that what was luxury to our fore-fathers, does not now even comprize the necessaries of life.


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TO plead custom in defence of a fault, is to intimate that offences become more excusable by being multiplied : an inference as weak as it is dangerous.

On being waked in the Night by a violent STORM,

LOCK'D in the arms of balmy sleep,

From every care of day,
As filent as the folded theep,

And as secure I lay.

Sudden, tremendous thunders roll,

Quick lightnings round me glare;
The folemn scene alarms the soul,

And wakes the heart to pray’r.

Whate'er, O Lord, at this still hour,

These awful sounds portend,
Whether meer ensigns of thy power,

for nature's end,

Grant me to bear with equal mind

These terrors of the sky,
For ever, as thou wilt, refign'd,

Alike to live or die.

Welcome the bolt, where'er it fail

Beneath the passing sun;
Thy righteous will determines all,

And let that will be done,

Quick interpose, all gracious Lord,

In this tremendous night;
Arise and be alike ador'd

For mercy as for might!
Vouchsafe, amidst this time of dread,

Thy suppliant's voice to hear;
O fhield from harm each friendly head,

And all my soul holds dear.


Let it not kill where riot foul

Pours forth the drunken jest,
Nor where the guilt-envenom'd soul

Starts wild from troubled reft.

A while, O spare, those finful breasts,

Whose deeds the night deform,
Nor strike where smiling virtue rests,

Unconscious of the storm.

Succour the couch where beauty lies,

All pale with tender fear;
Where fickness lifts her languid eyes,

O pour thy comforts there!

Let them not waste this awful night

Like common hours away;
But glow with wifdom's facred light,

More fair than orient day.

Warm’d by each flash, may virtue rise,

And with its glories fpread,
While ev'ry blasted bud of vice

Shrinks in new terrors dead.

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So, on that dreadful judgment day,

Whose image shakes the foul ;
Tho' keeneft light’nings shoot their ray,

And loudest thunders roll,

Well pleas'd, O Lord, each eye shall see

Those final thunders liurl'd;
And mark with joy, for love of thee,

That flash which melts the world.

AGED wisdom, when joined with acknowledged virtue, exerts an authority over the huinan mind, greater even than that which arises from power and flation. It can check the most forward, aballa the most profligate, and strike with awe the most giddy and unthinking.


AFFLICTION is our best friend, and its awful lesons are never fo neceffary as in youth. We set out in life, ardent with the hope of attaining happiness, but pursue a wrong.path, as we seek it in diversions and sensual pleasures. Happy they who by afflictions are called off to a more rational course!

An INSCRIPTION written at a favourite Retirement,
WHAT tho' nor glitt'ring turret rise,

Nor splendor gild these mild retreats;
Yet nature here in modest guise,

Displays her unambitious sweets;
Along each gentle swelling lawn

She strays, with ruftic garlands crown'd;
And wakes the flow'rs at early dawn,

To Aing their bosom'd fragrance round.
Here teach thy votr'y, blameless guide,

To trace thy step, serene, and free;
To thun the toilsome heights of pride;

Thro' these calm scenes to follow thee.
His silent walk do thou adorn,

O'er these green flopes, from tumult far;
Whether he greet the blushing morn,

Or welcome up yon ev’ning star;
Intent, while thro' thefe tufted bow'rs,

Thy gen'rous whispers charm his ear,
To hail from heav'n thy kindred pow'rs,

And meet fair peace and freedom here.

WORLDLY enjoyments are shorn to be hollow and deceitful, with an expreis intention to direct our affections towards those which are fpiritual. The same discoveries which diminih the value of the one, serve to increase that of the other.

ONE of the most important lessons which can be given. to inan, is resignation to his Maker; and nothing inculcates it more than the experience of his own inability to guide hiinfelf.



IN heav'n, bright maid, that bliss receive,

Which goodness only knows;
Who bidst the honeit bosom grieve,

That hears another's woes.

Thy soothing voice the wretch can cheer,

Whom anguish taught to figh;
And speak away the rising tear

From pale afliction's eye.
Where'er, in kind complacence drest,

Thy sacred beam shall shine;
It lifts, expands, exalts the breast,

And swells it to divine,

For ever clad in native charms,

Thy smile benignant lives;
In friendship, with delight it warms,

In anger, it forgives.

Like heav'n's high goodness unconfin'd,

It spreads from pole to pole;
And copies still th' eternal mind,

To bless the human soul.

Thy stream, and mercy's, child of love;
' From one great current flow;
For all that mercy is above,

Humanity's below.

HE whose wishes, respecting the posseflions of this world, are the mott reasonable and bounded, is likely to lead the fafest, and, for that reason, the most delirable life. By aspiring too high, we frequently miss the happiness, which, by a less ambitious aim, we might have gained. High happineis on earth, is rather a picture which the imagination forms, than a reality which man is allowed to poilefs.


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