Whose various orders bear the rounded ball,
Which would without them to confusion fall,
All are the Lord's, at his disposure stand,
And prop the govern'd world at his command.
"His mercy, still more wonderfully sweet,
Shall guard the righteous, and uphold their feet,
While, through the darkness of the wicked soul,
Amazement, dread, and desperation roll;
While envy stops their tongues, and hopeless grief,
That sees their fears, but not their fears' relief.
And they their strength as unavailing view,
Since none shall trust in that and safety too.
"The foes of Israel, for his Israel's sake,
God will to pieces in his anger break;
His bolts of thunder from an open'd sky,
Shall on their heads, with force unerring, fly.
His voice shall call, and all the world shall hear,
And all for sentence at his seat appear."

But mount to gentler praises, mount again,
My thoughts, prophetic of Messiah's reign;
Perceive the glories which around him shine,
And thus thine hymn be crown'd with grace divine.
'Tis here the numbers find a bright repose,
The vows accepted, and the votary goes.
But thou, my soul, upon her accents hung,
And sweetly pleas'd with what she sweetly sung,
Prolong the pleasure with thine inward eyes,
Turn back thy thoughts, and see the subject rise.
In her peculiar case, the song begun,
And for a while through private blessings run,
As through their banks the curling waters play,
And soft in murmurs kiss the flowery way,
With force increasing then she leaps the bounds,
And largely flows on more extended grounds;
Spreads wide and wider, till vast seas appear,
And boundless views of Providence are here.
How swift these views along her anthem glide,
As waves on waves push forward in the tide!
How swift thy wonders o'er my fancy sweep,
O Providence, thou great unfathom'd deep!
Where Resignation gently dips the wing,
And learns to love and thank, admire and sing;
But bold presumptuous reasonings, diving down
To reach the bottom, in their diving drown.

Neglecting man, forgetful of thy ways, Nor owns thy care, nor thinks of giving praise, But from himself his happiness derives, And thanks his wisdom, when by thine he thrives; His limbs at ease in soft repose he spreads, Bewitch'd with vain delights, on flowery beds; And, while his sense the fragrant breezes kiss, He meditates a waking dream of bliss; He thinks of kingdoms, and their crowns are near; He thinks of glories, and their rays appear; He thinks of beauties, and a lovely face Serenely smiles in every taking grace; He thinks of riches, and their heaps arise; Display their glittering forms, and fix his eyes; Thus drawn with pleasures in a charming view, Rising he reaches, and would fain pursue. But still the fleeting shadows mock his care, And still his fingers grasp at yielding air; Whate'er our tempers as their comforts want, It is not man's to take, but God's to grant. If then, persisting in the vain design, We look for bliss without an help divine, We still may search, and search without relief, Nor only want a bliss, but find a grief. That such conviction may to sight appear, Sit down, ye sons of men, spectators here;

Behold a scene upon your folly wrought,
And let this lively scene instruct the thought.
Boy, blow the pipe until the bubble rise,
Then cast it off to float upon the skies;
Still swell its sides with breath-O beauteous frame!
It grows, it shines: be now the world thy name!
Methinks creation forms itself within,

The men, the towns, the birds, the trees, are seen;-
The skies above present an azure show,
And lovely verdure paints an Earth below.
I'll wind myself in this delightful sphere,
And live a thousand years of pleasure there;
Roll'd up in blisses, which around me close,
And now regal'd with these, and now with those.
False hope, but falser words of joy, farewel,
You've rent the lodging where I meant to dwell,
My bubbles burst, my prospects disappear,
And leave behind a moral and a tear.

If at the type our dreaming souls awake,
And Hannah's strains their just impression make,
The boundless power of Providence we know,
And fix our trust on nothing here below.
Then he, grown pleas'd that men his greatness

own,

Looks down serenely from his starry throne,
And bids the blessed days our prayers have won
Put on their glories, and prepare to run.
For which our thanks be justly sent above,
Enlarg'd by gladness, and inspir'd with love:
For which his praises be for ever sung,
O sweet employment of the grateful tongue!
Burst forth, my temper, in a godly flame,
For all his blessings laud his holy name:
That, ere mine eyes saluted cheerful day,
A gift devoted in the womb Ilay,

Like Samuel vow'd, before my breath I drew,
O could I prove in life like Samuel too!
That all my frame is exquisitely wrought,
The world enjoy'd by sense, and God by thought;
That living streams through living channels glide,
To make this frame by Nature's course abide;
That, for its good, by Providence's care,
Fire joins with water, earth concurs with air;
That Mercy's ever-inexhausted store
Is pleas'd to proffer, and to promise more;
And all the proffers stream with grace divine,
And all the promises with glory shine.
O praise the Lord, my soul, in one accord,
Let all that is within me praise the Lord;
O praise the Lord, my son, and ever strive
To keep the sweet remembrances alive.
Still raise the kind affections of thine heart,
Raise every grateful word to bear a part,
With every word the strains of love devise,
Awake thine harp, and thou thyself arise;
Then, if his mercy be not half express'd,
Let wondering Silence magnify the rest.

DAVID.

My thought, on views of admiration hung, Intently ravish'd, and depriv'd of tongue, Now darts a while on Earth, a while in air, Here mov'd with praise, and mov'd with glory there; The joys entrancing, and the mute surprise, Half fix the blood, and dim the moistening eyes, Pleasure and praise on one another break, An exclamation longs at heart to speak; When thus my genius on the work design'd, Awaiting closely, guides the wandering mind.

If, while thy thanks would in thy lays be wrought, A bright astonishment involve the thought, If yet thy temper would attempt to sing, Another's quill shall imp thy feebler wing; Behold the name of royal David near, Behold his music, and his measures hear,] Whose harp devotion in a rapture strung, And left no state of pious souls unsung.

Him to the wondering world but newly shown, Celestial Poetry pronounc'd her own;

A thousand Hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair-blooming Innocence, with tender years,
And native Sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to smile within his early song,
And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along;
Majestic Honour, at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the sceptre of her royal fate,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great;
Undaunted Courage, deck'd with manly charms,
With waving azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Display'd the glories and the toils of fight,
Demanded Fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect these, the sacred Spirit came,
By mild infusion of celestial flame,
And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men aspire,
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they strive to make proud Babel rise,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies:
While I the glittering page resolve to view,
That will the subject of my lines renew:
The laurel wreath, my fame's imagin'd shade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help, or else I sink.
As rolling rivers in their channels flow,
Swift from aloft, but on the level slow:
Or rage in rocks, or glide along the plains,
So just, so copious, move the psalmist's strains;
So sweetly vary'd with proportion'd heat,
So gently clear, or so sublimely great;
While Nature's seen in all her forms to shine,
And mix with beauties drawn from Truth divine;
Sweet beauties (sweet affection's endless rill)
That in the soul like honey-drops distil.

Hail, Holy Spirit, hail supremely kind,
Whose inspiration thus enlarg'd the mind;
Who taught him what the gentle shepherd sings,
What rich expression suit the port of kings;
What daring words describe the soldier's heat,
And what the prophet's extacies relate;
Nor let his worst condition be forgot,
In all this splendour of exalted thought,
On one thy different sorts of graces fall,
Still made for each, of equal force in all;
And while from heavenly courts he feels a flame,
He sings the place from whence the blessing came;
And makes his inspirations sweetly prove
The tuneful subject of the mind they move.
Immortal Spirit, light of life instill'd,
Who thus the bosom of a mortal fill'd,
Though weak my voice, and though my light be
Yet fain I'd praise thy wondrous gifts in him;
Then, since thine aid's attracted by desire,
And they that speak thee right must feel thy fire,
Vouchsafe a portion of thy grace divine,
And raise my voice, and in my numbers shine:

[dim,

I sing of David, David sings of thee,
Assist the psalmist, and his work in me.

But now, my verse, arising on the wing,
What part of all thy subject wilt thou sing?
How fire thy first attempt? in what resort
Of Palestina's plains, or Salem's court;
Where, as his hands the solemn measure play'd,
Curs'd fiends with torment and confusion fled;
Where, at the rosy spring of cheerful light,
(If pious Fame record tradition right)
A soft efflation of celestial fire

Came like a rushing breeze, and shook the lyre;
Still sweetly giving every trembling string
So much of sound, as made him wake to sing?

Within my view the country first appears,
The country first enjoy'd his youthful years;
Then frame thy shady landscapes in my strain,
Some conscious mountain or accustom'd plain;
Where by the waters, on the grass reclin'd,
With notes he rais'd, with notes he calm'd his
mind;

For through the paths of rural life I'll stray,
And in his pleasures paint a shepherd's day.

With grateful sentiments, with active will, With voice exerted, and enlivening skill, His free return of thanks he duly paid, And each new day new beams of bounty shed. Awake, my tuneful harp; awake," he cries; "Awake, my lute, the Sun begins to rise; My God, I'm ready now!" then takes a flight, To purest Piety's exalted height: From thence his soul, with Heaven itself in view, On humble prayers and humble praises flew, The praise as pleasing, and as sweet the prayer, As incense curling up through morning air.

When towards the field with early steps he trod, And gaz'd around, and own'd the works of God, Perhaps, in sweet melodious words of praise, He drew the prospect which adorn'd his ways; The soil, but newly visited with rain, The river of the Lord with springing grain, Enlarge, increase the soften'd furrow blest, The year with goodness crown'd, with beauty drest. And still to power divine ascribe it all, From whose high paths the drops of fatness fall; Then in the song the smiling sights rejoice, And all the mute creation finds a voice; With thick returns delightful echoes fill The pastur'd green, or soft ascending hill, Rais'd by the bleatings of unnumber'd sheep, To boast their glories in the crowds they keep. And corn, that's waving in the western gale, With joyful sound proclaims the cover'd vale.

Whene'er his flocks the lovely shepherd drove, To neighbouring waters, to the neighbouring grove; To Jordan's flood, refresh'd by cooling wind, Or Cedron's brook, to mossy banks confin'd; In easy notes, and guise of lowly swain, [train: 'Twas thus he charm'd and taught the listening

"The Lord's my shepherd, bountiful and good, I cannot want, since he provides me food; Me for his sheep along the verdant meads, Me, all too mean, his tender mercy leads, To taste the springs of life, and taste repose Wherever living pasture sweetly grows. And as I cannot want, I need not fear, For still the presence of my shepherd's near; Through darksome vales, where beasts of prey

His rod and hook direct me when I stray,
He calls to fold, and they direct my way."

Perhaps, when seated on the river's brink, He saw the tender sheep at noon-day drink, He sung the land where milk and honey glide, And fattening plenty rolls upon the tide.

1

Or, fix'd within the freshness of a shade, Whose boughs diffuse their leaves around his head, He borrow'd notions from the kind retreat, Then sung the righteous in their happy state, And how, by Providential care, success Shall all their actions in due season bless; So firm they stand, so beautiful they look, As planted trees aside the purling brook: Not faded by the rays that parch the plain, Nor careful for the want of dropping rain: The leaves sprout forth, the rising branches shoot, And Summer crowns them with the ripen'd fruit. But if the flowery field, with varied hue, And native sweetness, entertain'd his view; The flowery field with all the glorious throng Of lively colours rose, to paint his song; Its pride and fall within the numbers ran, And spake the life of transitory man.

As grass arises by degrees unseen

To deck the breast of Earth with lovely green,
Till Nature's order brings the withering days,
And all the Summer's beauteous pomp decays;
So, by degrees unseen, doth man arise,

So blooms by course, and so by course he dies.
Or as her head the gaudy floweret heaves,
Spreads to the Sun, and boasts her silken leaves,
Till accidental winds their glory shed,
And then they fall before the time to fade;
So man appears, so falls in all his prime,
Ere Age approaches on the steps of Time.

But thee, my God! thee still the same we find,
Thy glory lasting, and thy mercy kind;
That still the just, and all his race, may know
No cause to mourn their swift account below.
When from beneath he saw the wandering sheep,
That graz'd the level, range along the steep,
Then rose, the wanton stragglers home to call,
Before the pearly dews at evening fall;
Perhaps new thoughts the rising ground supply,
And that employs his mind which fills his eye.
"From pointed hills," he cries, "my wishes tend,
To that great hill from whence supports descend:
The Lord's that hill, that place of sure defence,
My wants obtain their certain help from thence."
And as large hills projected shadows throw,
To ward the Sun from off the vales below,
Or for their safety stop the blast above,
That, with raw vapours loaded, nightly rove;
So shall protection o'er his servants spread,
And I repose beneath the sacred shade,
Unhurt by rage, that, like a Summer's day,
Destroys and scorches with impetuous ray:
By wasting sorrows, undepriv'd of rest,
That fall, like damps by moon-shine, on the breast,
Here from the mind the prospects seem to wear,
And leave the couch'd design appearing bare;
And now no more the shepherd sings his hill,
But sings the sovereign Lord's protection still.
For as he sees the Night prepar'd to come,
On wings of Evening, he prepares for home;
And in the song thus adds a blessing more,
To what the thought within the figure bore:
"Eternal Goodness manifestly still

Preserves my soul from each approach of ill:

Ends all my days, as all my days begin,
And keeps my goings, and my comings-in."
Here think the sinking Sun descends apace,
And, from thy first attempt, my Fancy, cease;
Here bid the ruddy shepherd quit the plain,
And to the fold return his flocks again.
Go, lest the lion, or the shagged bear,
Thy tender lambs with savage hunger tear;
Though neither bear nor lion match thy might,
When in their rage they stood reveal'd to sight;
Go, lest thy wanton sheep returning home,
Should, as they pass, through doubtful darkness
roam.,

Go, ruddy youth, to Bethlem turn thy way,
On Bethlem's road conclude the parting day.

Methinks he goes as twilight leads the night,
And sees the crescent rise with silver light;
His words consider all the sparkling show
With which the stars in golden order glow.
"And what is man," he cries, "that thus thy kind,
Thy wondrous love, has lodg'd him in thy mind?
For him they glitter, him the beasts of prey,
That scare my sheep, and these my sheep obey.
O Lord, our Lord, with how deserv'd a fame,
Does Earth record the glories of thy name!"
Then, as he thus devoutly walks along,
And finds the road has finish'd with the song,
He sings, with lifted hands and lifted eyes,
"Be this, my God, an evening sacrifice."
But now,
the lowly dales, the trembling groves,
O'er which the whisper'd breeze serenely roves,
Leave all the course of working fancy clear,
Or only grace another subject here;
For in my purpose new designs arise,
Whose brightening images engage mine eyes,
Then here, my verse, thy louder accents raise,
Thy theme through lofty paths of glory trace;
Call forth his honours in imperial throngs,
And strive to touch his more exalted songs.

While yet in humble vales his harp he strung, While yet he follow'd after ewes with young, Eternal Wisdom chose him for his own, And from the flock advanc'd him to the throne; That there his upright heart, and prudent hand, With more distinguish'd skill, and high command, Might act the shepherd in a nobler sphere, And take his nation into regal care. He could of mercy then, and justice sing, Those radiant virtues that adorn a king, That make his reign blaze forth with bright renown, Beyond those gems whose splendour decks a crown: That fixing peace, by temper'd love and fear, Make plains abound, and barren mountains bear. "To thee, to whom these attributes belong, To thee, my God," he cry'd, "I send my song; To thee, from whom my regal glory came, I sing the forms in which my court 1 frame: Assist the models of imperfect skill, O come, with sacred aid, and fix my will. A wise behaviour in my private ways, And all my soul dispos'd to public peace, Shall daily strive to let my subjects see A perfect pattern how to live, in me. Still will I think, as still my glories rise, To set no wicked thing before mine eyes, Nor will I choose the favourites of state, Among those men that have incurr'd thine hate, Whose vice but makes them scandalously great; 'Tis time that all, whose froward rage of heart Would vex my realm, shall from my realm depart;

'Tis time that all, whose private slandering lie
Leads Judgment falsely, shall by Judgment die.
And time the great, who loose the reins to pride,
Shall with neglect and scorn be laid aside;
But o'er the tracts that my commands obey,
I'll send my light, with sharp disarming ray,
Through dark retreats, where humble minds abide,
Through shades of peace, where modest tempers
hide;

To find the good that may support my state,
And, having found them, then to make them
great.

My voice shall raise them from the lonely cell,
With me to govern, and with me to dwell.
My voice shall Flattery and Deceit disgrace,
And in their room exulted Virtue place;
That, with an early care, and stedfast hand,
The wicked perish from the faithful land.”

When on the throne he sate in calm repose,
And with a royal hope his offspring rose,
His prayers, anticipating time, reveal
Their deep concerniment for the public weal;
Upon a good forecasted thought they run,
For common blessings in the king begun :
For righteousness and judgment strictly fair,
Which from the king descends upon his heir.
So when his life and all his labour cease,
The reign succeeding, brings succeeding peace;
So still the poor shall find inpartial laws,
And orphans still a guardian of their cause:
And stern Oppression have its galling yoke,
And rabid teeth of prey, to-pieces broke.
Then, wondering at the glories of his way,
His friends shall love, his daunted foes obey;
For peaceful commerce neighbouring kings apply,
And with great presents court the grand ally.
For him rich gums shall sweet Arabia bear,
For him rich Sheba mines of gold prepare;
Him Tharsis, him the foreign isles shall greet,
And every nation bend beneath his feet.
And thus his honours far-extended grow,
The type of great Messiah's reign below.

But worldly realms, that in his accents shine, Are left beneath the full-advanc'd design; When thoughts of empire in the mind increase O'er all the limits that determine place, If thus the monarch's rising fancy move To search for more unbounded realms above, In which celestial courts the king maintains, And o'er the vast extent of Nature reigns; He then describes, in elevated words, His Israel's shepherd, as the Lord of Lords. How bright between the Cherubims he sits, What dazzling lustre all his throne emits; How Righteousness, with Judgment join'd, support The regal seat, and dignify the court; How fairest Honour, and majestic State, [wait; The presence grace, and Strength and Beauty What glittering ministers around him stand, To fly like winds, or flames, at his command. How sure the beams, on which his palace rise, Are set in waters, rais'd above the skies; How wide the skies, like out-spread curtains, fly To veil majestic light from human eye; Or form'd the wide expanded vaults above, Where storms are bounded, tho' they seem to rove; Where fire, and hail, and vapour so fulfil The wise intentions of their Maker's will; How well 'tis seen the great Eternal Mind Rides on the clouds, and walks upon the wind.

"O, wondrous Lord! how bright thy glories

shine

[thine; The Heavens declare, for what they boast is And yon blue tract, enrich'd with orbs of light, In all its handy-work displays thy might."

Again the monarch touch'd another strain,
Another province claim'd his verse again,
Where Goodness infinite has fix'd a sway,
Whose out-stretch'd limits are the bounds of day.
Beneath this empire of extended air,
Yet still in reach of Providence's eare,
God plac'd the rounded Earth with stedfast hand,
And bid the basis ever firmly stand:

He bid the mountains from confusion's heaps
Exalt their summits, and assume their shapes.
He bid the waters like a garment spread,
To form large seas, and, as he spake, they fied.
His voice, his thunder, made the waves obey,
And forward hasten, till they form'd the sea;
Then, lest with lawless rage the surges roar,
He mark'd their bounds, and girt them in with

shore.

He fill'd the land with brooks, that trembling steal
Through winding hills, along the flowery vale,
To which the beasts, that graze the vale, retreat
For cool refreshings in the Summer's heat;
While, perch'd in leaves upon the tender sprays,
The birds around their singing voices raise.
He makes the vapours, which he taught to fly,
Forsake the chambers of the clouds on high,
And golden harvest, rich with ears of grain
And spiry blades of grass, adorn the plain;
And grapes luxuriant cheer the soul with wine,
And ointment shed, to make the visage shine.
Through trunks of trees fermenting sap proceeds,
To feed, and tinge the living boughs it feeds:
So shoots the fir, where airy storks abide,
So cedar, Lebanon's aspiring pride,
Whose birds, by God's appointment, in their nest,
With green surrounded, lie secure of rest;
Where small increase the barren mountains give,
There kines, adapted to the feeding, live;
There flocks of goats in healthy pastures browse,
And, in their rocky entrails, rabbits house.
Where forests, thick with shrubs, entangled stand,
Untrod the roads, and desolate the land,
There close in coverts hide the beasts of prey,
Till heavy darkness creeps upon the day,
Then roar with Hunger's voice, and range abroad,
And, in their method, seek their meat from God;
And, when the dawning edge of eastern air
Begins to purple, to their dens repair.
Man, next succeeding, from the sweet repose
Of downy beds, to work appointed goes.
When first the Morning sees the rising Sun,
He sees their labours both at once begun;
And, Night returning with its starry train,
Perceives their labours done at once again.
O! manifold in works supremely wise,
How well thy gracious store the world supplies!
How all thy creatures on thy goodness call,
And that bestows a due support for all!
When from an open hand thy favours flow,
Rich Bounty stoops to visit us below;
When from thy hand no more thy favours stream,
Back to the dust we turn, from whence we came;
And when thy spirit gives the vital heat,
A sure succession keeps the kinds complete;
The propagated seeds their forms retain,
And all the face of Earth's renew'd again,