HAPPY the hours, the golden days,
When I could call my Jefus mine,
And fit and view his fmiling face,
And melt in pleasures all-divine.
Near to my heart, within my arms
He lay, till fin defil'd my breast,
Till broken vows, and earthly charms,
Tir'd and provok'd my heavenly guest.
And now He's gone, (O mighty woe!)
Gone from my foul, and hides his love!
Curfe on you, fins, that griev'd Him so,
Ye fins, that forc'd him to remove.
Break, break, my heart; complain, my tongue :
Hither, my friends, your forrows bring:
Angels, affift my doleful fong,
If you have e'er a mourning ftring.
But, ah! your joys are ever high,
Ever his lovely face you fee;
While my poor fpirits pant and die,
And groan, for Thee, my God, for Thee.
Yet let my hope look through my tears,
And spy afar his rolling throne;
His chariot through the cleaving spheres
Shall bring the bright Beloved down.
Swift as a roe flies o'er the hills,
My foul fprings out to meet him high,
Then the fair Conqueror turns his wheels,
And climbs the manfions of the sky.
There fmiling joy for ever reigns,
No more the turtle leaves the dove;
Farewell to jealoufies, and pains,
And all the ills of abfent love.
GOD exalted above all Praife.
TERNAL Power! whofe high abode
Becomes the grandeur of a God;
Infinite length beyond the bounds
Where ftars revolve their little rounds.
The loweft ftep above thy feat
Rifes too high for Gabriel's feet,
In vain the tall Arch-angel tries
To reach thine height with wondering eyes.
Thy dazzling beauties whilst he fings,
He hides his face behind his wings;
And ranks of fhining thrones around
Fall worshiping, and spread the ground.
Lord, what fhall earth and afhes do!
We would adore our Maker too;
From fin and duft to thee we cry,
The Great, the Holy, and the High!
Earth from afar has heard the fame,
And worms have learnt to lifp thy name;
But O, the glories of thy mind
Leave all our foaring thoughts behind.
God is in heaven, and men below;
Be fhort, our tunes; our words be few;
A facred reverence checks our fongs,
And praise fits filent on our tongues.
"Tibi filet Laus, O Deus," Pfal. lxv. 1.
TO HER MAJESTY.
UEEN of the Northern world, whofe gentle sway
Commands our love, and charms our hearts t'obey,
Forgive the nation's groan when WILLIAM dy'd:
Lo, at thy feet in all the royal pride
Of blooming joy, three happy realms appear,
And WILLIAM's urn almoft without a tear
Stands; nor complains; while from thy gracious tongue
Peace flows in filver ftreams amidst the throng.
Amazing balm, that on those lips was found
To foothe the torment of that mortal wound,
And calm the wild affright! The terror dies,
The bleeding wound cements, the danger flies,
And Albion fhouts thine honours as her joys arise.
The German eagle feels her guardian dead,
Not her own thunder can fecure her head;
Her trembling eagles haften from afar,
And Belgia's lion dreads the Gallick war:
All hide behind thy shield. Remoter lands
Whofe lives lay trufted in Naffovian hands
Transfer their fouls, and live; fecure they play
In thy mild rays, and love the growing day.
Thy beamy wing at once defends and warms
Fainting religion, whilst in various forms
Fair piety fhines through the British isles:
Here at thy fide, and in thy kindest smiles *
Blazing in ornamental gold she stands,
To bless thy councils, and affift thy hands,
And crowds wait round her to receive commands.
There at a humble distance from the throne +
Beauteous fhe lies; her luftre all her own,
Ungarnish'd; yet not blushing, nor afraid,
Nor knows fufpicion, nor effects the shade:
Chearful and pleas'd she not prefumes to share
In thy parental gifts, but owns thy guardian care.
For thee, dear fovereign, endless vows arise,
And zeal with earthly wing falutes the skies
To gain thy fafety: Here a folemn form *
Of ancient words keeps the devotion warm,
And guides, but bounds our wishes: There the mind + Feels its own fire, and kindles unconfin'd
The established church of England,
The Proteftant Diffenters.
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