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Ride on the clouds; whilst, as his chariot flies,
The bright effusion streams thro' all the skies.
Then shall the proud dissolving mountains glow,
And yielding rocks in fiery rivers flow:
The molten deluge round the globe shall roar,
And all man's arts and labour be no more.
Then shall the splendours of the enliven'd glass
Sink undistinguish'd in the burning mass.
And oh! till earth and seas, and heaven decay,
Ne'er may that fair creation fade away;
May winds and storms those beauteous colours

Still may they bloom, as permament as fair;
All the vain rage of wasting time repel,
And his tribunal see, whose cross they paint so



Commit thou all thy ways

And griefs into his hands,
To his sure trust and tender care,

Who heav'n and earth commands;

Who points the clouds their course,

Whom winds and seas obey :
He shall direct thy wand'ring feet,

He shall prepare thy way.

No profit canst thou gain

By self-consuming care :
To him commend thy cause, his ear

Attends the softest pray’r.

Give to the winds thy fears,

Hope, and be undismay'd; God hears thy sighs and counts thy tears,

He will lift up thy head.

Thro' waves, and clouds, and storms,

He'll gently clear thy way;
Wait thou his time, so shall this night

foon end in boundless day.


Father of all! in ev'ry age,

In ev'ry clime, ador'd,
By Saint, by Savage, and by Sage,

Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou Great First Cause, least understvod,

Who all my sense confin'd
To know but this, that Thou art good,

And that myself am blind :

Yet gave me, in this dark estate,

To see the good from ill;
And, binding nature fast in fate,

Left free the human will.

What conscience dictates to be done,

Or warns nie not to do,
This teach me more than hell to shun,

That more than heav'n pursue.

What blessings thy free bounty gives

Let me not cast anay;
For God is paid when man receives,

T' enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to earth's contracted span

Thy goodness let me bound, Or think Thee Lord alone of man,

When thousand words are round.

Let not this weak, unknowing hand

Presume thy bolts to throw, And deal damnation round the land

On each I judge thy foe.

If I am right, thy grace impart

Still in the right to stay; If I am wrong, oli teach my heart

To find that better way.

Save me alike from foolish pride,

Or impious discontent,
At aught thy wisdom has deny'd,

Or aught the goodness lent.

Teach me to feel another's woe,

To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show,

That mercy show to me.

Mean tho’ I am, not wholly so,

Since quicken'd by thy breath, O lead me wheresoe'er I go, Thro' this day's life, or death,

This day, be bread and peace my lot :

All else beneath the sun, Thou know'st if best bestow'd or not;

And let thy will be done.

To Thee, whose temple is all space,

Whose altar, earth, sea, skies!
One chor let all Being raise !

All Nature's incense rise.


An Ode.

Othou, whom love and fancy lead,

To wander near this woodland hill,

If ever musick soothed thy quill,
Or pity waked thy gentle reed,

Repose beneath my humble tree,
If thou lovest simplicity.

Stranger, if thy lot has laid

In toilsome scenes of busy life,

Full sorely may'st thou see the strife, Of weary passions ill repaid,

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