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A PIOUS WISH.

On reading Clito's ingenious and devout Lines, entituled, Thoughts in Health.

W

WHEN the pale monarch aims his dreadful dart ;
And nature's pow'rs at diffolution start,

When inftant bord'ring on the gloomy grave,
Beyond all pow'r of human art to fave,
Thus calm, may I refign my fleeting breath,
Put off mortality, and smile in death.
May then the facred fpirit guide my way,
Thro' the dark vale, to scenes of endless day,
Difpell the clouds, display th' eternal skies,
Bid to my view the heav'nly landscape rise,
And beckon a bright choir of angels down,
To waft me fafe to my etherial crown.

Amata

H

LINES occafioned by a Series of Affliction.

OW loaths my foul this forrowful abode !
How flag her pinions under life's dull load!
Nor finds content in any thing but God:
Hence longs unfetter'd to attempt the sky,
And shoot from time into eternity.
O blissful region! perfect joy reigns there,
No bofom feels a figh, nor eye a tear.
No need of fun by day, or moon by night,
For God himself is one eternal light.
Here gloomy clouds the horizon o'erfpread,
And our hearts tremble with continual dread:
Mountains of danger in perfpective lye,
Walls to be scal'd that seem to touch the sky;
Vaft giants, fons of Anak to be flain ;
Yet but unquiet rest, if Canaan we obtain.

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Clito.

FA

DIRECTIONS to HAPPINESS.

AME, riches, honour, birth, or wit,
Yield not the foul fupplies;

Nor all the fciences replete

Her noble faculties.

How vastly short the human line!
Vain ev'ry art we try!
For nothing but a pow'r divine,
Who made, can fatisfy.
Let mortals then attend my theme,
I point the way to bliss :
Abridge your wants, quit each false scheme,
Refign your wills to his.

For providence directs us right;
His difpenfations good.

This truth is clear in reafon's light,
Tho' rarely understood.
Come, refignation, fill my heart!

O dwell for ever there!
Teach me to act my deftin'd part,
What can't be cur'd, to bear.

Prefent eternity's fair face,

To chear me on the

way;

Or if too fast, then check my pace,
And fpur me, if I ftay.

My home's on t'other fide the grave,

Why should I linger here?

Since heav'n gives all the foul can crave,
There's nought to wish or fear.

APARAPHRASE on the 7th Chapter of the Proverbs. By A. B.

Y fon, th' inftruction that my words impart

ΜΥ

Grave on the living tablet of thy heart;
And all the wholsome precepts that I give,
Obferve with stricteft reverence, and live.
Let all thy homage be to wisdom paid,
Seck her protection, and implore her aid;

That

That she may keep thy foul from harm fecure,
And turn thy footsteps from the harlot's door,
Who, with curs'd charms, lures the unwary in,
And fooths with flattery their fouls to fin.

Once from my window as I caft mine eye,
On those that pafs'd in giddy numbers by,
A youth, among the foolish youths, I fpy'd
Who took not facred wisdom for his guide.

Juft as the fun withdrew his cooler light,
And evening foft led on the shades of night,
He stole in covert twilight to his fate,

And pass'd the corner near the harlot's gate;
When lo, a woman comes!

Loofe her attire, and fuch her glaring dress,
As aptly did the harlot's mind express :
Subtle the is, and practis'd in the arts,

By which the wanton conquer heedless hearts:
Stubborn and loud the is, fhe hates her home,
Varying her place and form, fhe loves to roam;
Now fhe's within, now in the street does stray,
Now at each corner stands, and waits her prey.
The youth fhe feiz'd, and, laying now afide
All modefty, the female's jufteft pride,

She faid, with an embrace, here at my house
Peace-offerings are, this day 1 paid my vows.
I therefore came abroad to meet my dear,
And lo, in happy hour, I find thee here.

My chamber I've adorn'd, and o'er my bed.
Are cov'rings of the richest tap'ftry spread,
With linen it is deck'd from Egypt brought,
And cov'rings by the curious artift wrought;
It wants no glad perfume Arabia yields
In all her citron groves, and spicy fields;
Here all her. store of richest odours meets,
I'll lay thee in a wilderness of fweets.
Whatever to the sense can grateful be
I have collected there-

I want but thee.

My husband's gone a journey far away,
Much gold he took abroad, and long will stay :
He nam'd for his return a distant day.

Upon her tongue did fuch fmooth mischief dwell,

Aud from her lips fuch welcome flatt'ry fell,

Y 3

Thun

Th'unguarded youth, in filken fetters ty'd,
Refign'd his reason, and with ease comply'd.
Thus does the ox to his own flaughter go,
And thus is fenfelefs of th' impending blow.
Thus flies the fimple bird into the fnare,
That skilful fowlers for his life prepare.
But let my fons attend. Attend may they
Whom youthful vigour may to fin betray;
Let them falfe charmers fly, and guard their hearts
Against the wily wanton's pleafing arts;
With care direct their steps, nor turn aftray
To tread the paths of her deceitful way;
Left they too late of her fell power complain,
And fall, where many mightier have been slain.

PARAPHRASE upon the HYMN of St. AMBROSE. By Mr. Oldham.

Ο

OD E.

I.

To thee, O God, we thy juft praises fing,

To thee, we thy great Name rehearse :

We are thy vaffals, and this humble tribute bring
To thee, acknowledg'd only Lord and King,
Acknowledg'd fole and fov'reign monarch of the universe.
All parts of this wide universe adore,
Eternal Father, thy almighty power;

The skies, and stars, fire, air, and earth, and sea,

With all their numʼrous, nameless

progeny,

Confefs, and their due homage pay to thee!

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For why thou fpak'ft the word, and madeft them all from nothing be.

To thee all angels, all thy glorious court on high,
Seraph and cherub, the nobility,

And whatsoever spirits be

Of leffer honour, less degree;

To thee, in heav'nly lays,

They fing loud anthems of immortal praife:

Still holy, holy, holy Lord of Hofts, they cry;

This is their bus'ness, this their fole employ, And thus they spend their long, and bleft eternity.

II.

Farther than nature's utmost shores and limits stretch, The ftreams of thy unbounded glory reach; Beyond the ftraits of scanty time, and place, Beyond the ebbs and flows of matter's narrow feas They reach, and fill the ocean of eternity, and space.. Infus'd like fome vaft mighty foul,

Thou doft inform, and actuate, this fpacious whole:
Thy unfeen hand does the well jointed frame fuftain,
Which elfe would to its prim'tive nothing fhrink again.
But most, thou doft thy Majesty display,
In the bright realms of everlasting day:
There is thy refidence, there doft thou reign,
There, on a feat of dazling luftre, fit,
There, fhine in robes of pure refined light,
Where fun's coarse rays are but a foil and stain,
And refuse stars the fweepings of thy glorious train.
III.

There all thy family of menial faints,
Huge colonies of blefs'd inhabitants,

Which death thro' countless ages has transplanted hence;
Now on thy throne for ever wait,

And fill the large retinue of thy heav'nly state.

There rev'rend prophets ftand, a pompous, goodly fhow,
Of old thy envoys-extraordinary here,

Who brought thy facred embaflies of
peace
and war.
That, to th' obedient, this, the rebel-world below.
By them, the mighty twelve, have their abode,
Companions once of the incarnat fuff'ring God.
Partakers now of all his triumphs there,
As they on earth did in his mis'ries fhare.
Of martyrs next, a crown'd and glorious choir,
Illuftrious heroes, who have gain'd,

Thro' dangers, and red feas of blood, the promis'd land,
And pass thro' ordeal flames to thy eternity in fire.
There, all make up the confort of thy praife,
To thee they fing, and never ceale,
Loud hymns and Hallelujahs of applause:
An angel-laureat does the sense, and strains compose,

Senfe

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