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§ 1. An Address to the Deity. Thomson. ATHER of light and life! Thou GOOD SUPREME!
O teach me what is good! Teach me THYSELF!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low pursuit! and feed
With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue
Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss! [pure;
§ 2. Adam and Eve, in a Morning Hymn, call
upon all the Parts of the Creation to join with
them in extolling their common Maker.
THESE are Thy glorious works, Parent of good,
Almighty, thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then!
Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these Heavens
To us invisible, or dimly seen
In these thy lowest works; yet these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine.
Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs
And choral symphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in Heaven,
On Earth, join all ye creatures to extol
Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere,
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Thou, Sun, of this great world both eye and soul,
Acknowledge him thy greater, sound his praise
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st,
And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou
Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st
With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies,
And ye five other wand'ring fires that move
In mystic dance, not without song, resound
His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light.
Air, and ye Elements, the eldest birth
Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix
And nourish all things; let your ceaseless change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye Mists and Exhalations that now rise
From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey,
Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honor to the world's great Author rise,
Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolor'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,
Rising or falling still advance his praise.
His praise, yeWinds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye Pines,
With every plant in sign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Join voices, all ye living Souls; ye Birds,
That singing up to Heaven's gate ascend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness if I be silent, morn or even,
To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.
Hail, universal Lord! be bounteous still
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.
§3. Hymn on Gratitude. Addison. WHEN all thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys; Transported with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise.
O how shall words with equal warmth
The gratitude declare
That glows within my ravish'd heart?
But thou canst read it there.
Thy providence my life sustain'd,
And all my wants redress'd,
When in the silent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.
To all my weak complaints and cries
Thy mercy lent an ear,
Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt
To form themselves in pray'r.
Unnumber'd comforts to my soul
Thy tender care bestow'd,
Before my infant heart conceiv'd
From whom those comforts flow'd.
When in the slipp'ry paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,
Thine arm unseen convey'd me safe,
And led me up to man.
Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths,
It gently clear'd my way,
And through the pleasing snares of vice,
More to be fear'd than they.
When worn with sickness, oft hast thou
With health renew'd my face,
And when in sins and sorrows sunk,
Reviv'd my soul with grace.
Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss
Has made my cup run o'er,
And in a kind and faithful friend
Has doubled all my store.
Ten thousand thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ,
Nor is the least a cheerful heart,
That tastes those gifts with joy.
Through every period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue; And after death in distant worlds
The glorious theme renew.
When nature fails, and day and night
Divide thy works no more,
My ever grateful heart, O Lord,
Thy mercy shall adore.
Through all eternity to Thee
A joyful song I'll raise,
For O eternity's too short
To utter all thy praise.
§ 4. Hymn on Providence.
THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care: His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye; My noon-day walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend. When in the sultry glebe I faint, Or on the thirsty mountains pant, To fertile vales, and dewy meads, My weary wand'ring steps he leads ;
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.
Though in the paths of Death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My stedfast heart shall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me still;
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds I stray,
Thy bounty shall my pains beguile :
The barren wilderness shall smile,
With sudden greens and herbage crown'd;
And streams shall murmur all around.
§ 5. Another Hymn, from the beginning of the 19th Psalm. Addison.
THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled Heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim:
Th' unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's pow'r display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the list'ning earth,
Repeats the story of her birth:
Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
What though in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball!
What though nor real voice nor sound
Amid their radiant orbs be found!
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing as they shine,
"The hand that made us is Divine."
§ 6. Another Hymn. Mrs. Rowe.
THE glorious armies of the sky
To thee, Almighty King,
Triumphant anthems consecrate,
And hallelujahs sing.
But still their most exalted flights
Fall vastly short of thee:
How distant then must human praise
From thy perfection be!
Yet how, my God, shall I refrain,
When to my ravish'd sense
Each creature every-where around
Displays thy excellence!
The active lights that shine above,
In their eternal dance,
Reveal their skilful Maker's praise
With silent elegance.
The blushes of the morn confess
That thou art still more fair,
When in the East its beams revive,
To gild the fields of air.
The fragrant, the refreshing breeze
Of ev'ry flow'ry bloom
In balmy whispers own, from Thee
Their pleasing odours come.
The singing birds, the warbling winds,
And waters murm'ring fall,
To praise the first Almighty Cause
With diff'rent voices call.
Thy num'rous works exalt thee thus,
And shall I silent be?
No; rather let me cease to breathe,
Than cease from praising Thee!
§ 7. Another Hymn. Mrs. Rowe.
THOU didst, O mighty God! exist
Ere time began its race;
Before the ample elements
Fill'd up the void of space :
Before the pond'rous earthly globe.
In fluid air was stay'd,
Before the ocean's mighty springs
Their liquid stores display'd;
Ere through the gloom of ancient night
The streaks of light appear'd;
Before the high celestial arch,
Or starry poles were rear'd:
Before the loud melodious spheres
Their tuneful round begun;
Before the shining roads of heav'n
Were measur'd by the sun :
Ere through the empyrean courts
One hallelujah rung;
Or to their harps the sons of light
Ecstatic anthems sung:
Ere men ador'd, or angels knew,
Or prais'd thy wondrous name;
Thy bliss, O sacred Spring of life!
Thy glory, was the same.
And when the pillars of the world
With sudden ruin break,
And all this vast and goodly frame
Sinks in the mighty wreck;
When from her orb the moon shall start,
Th' astonish'd sun roll back,
And all the trembling starry lamps
Their ancient course forsake;
For ever permanent and fix'd,
Unchang'd in everlasting years,
Shall thy existence be.
Ye fields of light, celestial plains,
Where gay transporting beauty reign,
Ye scenes divinely fair!
Your Maker's wondrous pow'r proclaim,
Tell how he form'd your shining frame,
And breath'd the fluid air.
Ye angels, catch the thrilling sound!
While all th' adoring thrones around
His boundless mercy sing:
Let ev'ry list'ning saint above
Wake all the tuneful soul of love,
And touch the sweetest string.
Join, ye loud spheres, the vocal choir;
Thou dazzling orb of liquid fire,
The mighty chorus aid:
Soon as grey ev'ning gilds the plain,
Thou, moon, protract the melting strain,
And praise him in the shade.
Thou heav'n of heav'ns, his vast abode,
Ye clouds, proclaim your forming God,
Who call'd yon worlds from night:
"Ye shades, dispel!"-th' Eternal said:
At once th' involving darkness fled,
And nature sprung to light.
Whate'er a blooming world contains,
That wings the air, that skims the plains,
United praise bestow:
Ye dragons, sound his awful name
To heav'n aloud and roar acclaim,
Ye swelling deeps below:
Let every element rejoice:
Ye thunders, burst with awful voice
To him who bids you roll;
His praise in softer notes declare,
Each whispering breeze of yielding air,
And breathe it to the soul.
To him, ye graceful cedars, bow;
Ye tow'ring mountains, bending low,
Your great Creator own;
Tell, when affrighted nature shook,
How Sinai kindled at his look,
And trembled at his frown.
Ye flocks that haunt the humble vale,
Ye insects flutt'ring on the gale,
In mutual concourse rise;
Crop the gay rose's vermeil bloom,
And waft its spoils, a sweet perfume,
In incense to the skies.
Wake, all ye mounting tribes, and sing;
Ye plumy warblers of the spring,
Harmonious anthems raise
To him who shap'd your finer mould,
Who tipp'd your glitt'ring wings with gold,
And tun'd your voice to praise.
$8. Another Hymn, from Psalm 148th. Ogilvie. Let man by nobler passions sway'd,
BEGIN, my soul, th' exalted lay!
Let each enraptur'd thought obey,
And praise the Almighty's name:
Lo! heaven and earth, and seas and skies,
In one melodious concert rise,
To swell th' inspiring theme.
The feeling heart, the judging head,
In heav'nly praise employ ;.
Spread his tremendous name around,
Till heav'n's broad arch rings back the
The gen'ral burst of joy.