COMMON METRE. HOSANNA to the Prince of Grace; Sion, behold thy King! Proclaim the Son of David's race, Hofanna to th' eternal word, SHORT METRE. HOSANNA to the Son Of David and of God, Who bought the news of pardon down, To Chrift, th' anointed King, Be endless bleffings given; Let the whole earth his glory fing, GLORY GLORY to the FATHER and the SON, &c. T LONG METRE. O God the Father, God the Son, COMMON METRE. OW let the Father and the Son, Now And Spirit, be ador'd, Where there are works to make him known, SHORT METRE. GIVE to the Father praise, Give Glory to the Son; And to the Spirit of his grace; Be equal honour done. A SLIGHT SPECIMEN O F MORAL SONGS, Such as I wifh fome happy and condefcending genius would undertake for the use of children, and perform much better. HE fenfe and fubjects might be borrowed plenti THE fully from the Proverbs of Solomon, from all the common appearances of nature, from all the occurrences of civil life, both in city and country (which would alfo afford matter for other divine fongs). Here the language and measures should be eafy, and flowing with chearfulness, with or without the folemnities of religion, or the facred names of God and holy things; that children might find delight and profit together. This would be one effectual way to deliver them from thofe idle, wanton, or profane fongs, which give fo early an ill taint to the fancy and memory; and become the feeds of future vices. I. The 1. THE SLUGGAR D. IS the voice of the fluggard; I heard him complain, "You have wak'd me too foon, I must flumber again." As the door on its hinges, fo he on his bed, Turns his fides and his shoulders and his heavy head. "A little more sleep, and a little more flumber;" Thus he waftes half his days, and his hours without number; And when he gets up, he fits folding his hands, Or walks about fauntering, or trifling he stands. I pafs'd by his garden, and faw the wild brier, The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher; The cloaths that hang on him are turning to rags : And his money still wastes till he starves or he begs. I made him a vifit, ftill hoping to find He had took better care for improving his mind: Said I then to my heart, "Here's a leffon for me:" II. INNO. II. INNOCENT PLAY. ABROAD in the meadows to see the young lambs Run fporting about by the fide of their dams, Or a neft of young doves in a large open cage, If we had been ducks, we might dabble in mud; But Thomas and William, and fuch pretty names, Not a thing that we do, nor a word that we say, For he's ftill in earneft that's hurt: How rude are the boys that throw pebbles and mire! There's none but a madman will fling about fire, And tell you," "Tis all but in fport." III. THE ROSE. WOW fair is the rofe! what a beautiful flower! Ho The glory of April and May! But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour, Yet |