COMMON METRE.

Now let the Father, and the Son,

And Spirit, be ador'd,

Where there are works to make him known, Or saints to love the Lord.

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 OF

MORAL SONGS,

SUCH AS I WISH SOME HAPPY AND

CONDESCENDING GE

NIUS WOULD UNDERTAKE FOR THE USE OF CHILDREN, AND PERFORM MUCH BETTER.

THE sense and subjects might be borrowed plentifully from the Proverbs of Solomon, from all the common appearances of nature, from all the occurrences in the civil life, both in city and country: (which would also afford matter for other divine songs.) Here the language and measures should be easy and flowing with cheerfulness, with or without the solemnities of religion, or the sacred names of God and holy things; that children might find delight and profit together.

This would be one effectual way to deliver them from the temptation of loving or learning those idle, wanton, or profane songs, which give so early an ill taint to the fancy and memory, and become the seeds of future vices.

MORAL SONGS.

I.

THE SLUGGARD.

'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him com

plain,

"You have waked me too soon, I must slumber

again."

As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed,

Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy

head.

"A little more sleep, and a little more slumber; Thus he wastes half his days and his hours without number;

And when he gets up, he sits folding his hands, Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands.

I pass'd by his garden, and saw the wild brier, The thorn and the thistle, grow broader and higher;

The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags; And his money still wastes, till he starves, or he

begs.

I made him a visit, still hoping to find
He had took better care for improving his mind:
He told me his dreams, talk'd of eating and drink-

ing,

But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.

Said I then to my heart, " Here's a lesson for me; That man's but a picture of what I might be; But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding,

Who taught me betimes to love working and reading."

II.

INNOCENT PLAY.

ABROAD in the meadows to see the young lambs Run sporting about by the side of their dams, With fleeces so clean and so white,

Or a nest of young doves in a large open cage, When they play all in love, without anger or

rage,

How much we may learn from the sight!

If we had been ducks, we might dabble in mud, Or dogs, we might play till it ended in blood,

So foul and so fierce are their natures;